In the year 1971, astronomy student and aspiring guitarist Brian May's ill-fated camping trip may have more consequences than he first realized. Small but unexplainable things start to happen to him after he is bit by a dog in Humpy Bong Forest. His...
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A sharp pang of tension sang through Freddie's living room. Roger turned around and looked at John. John was still like a deer in headlights and his eyes glowed a pale yellow.
Roger looked in the doorway into the living room and saw Brian standing there with his hair pressed flat and slicked back like a greaser. His furious facial expression contrasted John's almost fearful one. His eyes glowed like a burning fire.
Then Brian snarled through his fangs at John, "YOU!"
Brian dropped the grocery bags onto the floor and his soaking wet head of hair spiked up at the roots like an angry animal's hackle making him look even taller than before.
Roger gulped, "Brian..."
Ignoring him, his friend stomped over to John who raised up his bass guitar in defense like a baseball bat.
"You did this to me!" Brian snarled.
John jumped backward and stepped up on Freddie's couch. He clenched the neck of his bass and screamed, "I didn't mean to! I swear!"
Brian grabbed a throw pillow from a chair and chucked it at John's head. John batted it away and it landed a few feet from Roger. Roger gasped. The pillow was torn from Brian's claws. I'm going to shit my pants, Roger thought.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Freddie yelled. He wedged his way between Brian and John.
Brian pointed one long crooked finger at John with his amber eyes gleaming. "He is the one who turned me! The wolf in the woods at Hompy Bong. It's him!" he accused.
John panicked and insisted, "I didn't mean to! I didn't have good control over myself because of the full moon. I bit you because I thought you were going to hurt me like the others!"
"Why are you here, hm? To mess up my life more than you already have?" Brian asked with an arched eyebrow. His eyes darted to sheet music that laid on the coffee table and dashed back to John. Is he going to throw the music like an American football? Roger thought.
Roger grabbed the paper off of the table and said, "Calm down, mate. You are destroying stuff."
John's eyes faded back to natural light green. "I came here to find you," he said, "I thought what happened was just a bad dream. When I smelled you back in the forest, I immediately organized a transfer to London to find you."
A few tears streamed down Brian's face and he asked, "Fine me? Why?"
John lowered his bass and replied, "We are a pack. I turned you, so you are my responsibility."
Oh come on, John's got to be at least five years younger than Brian, Roger thought, There is no way he is responsible for him.
John hopped down from the couch and slowly rested his instrument against the wall. He never turned his back on Brian and maintained eye contact even when the bass fell to one side with a thud. The last bits of fire in Brian's eyes was quenched by hazel as he intently watched the young lad.
