Werewolf The Apocalypse: Beast Behind The Glass

Amaru woke up in a daze. His body was sore all over. He was exhausted. Mentally and physically. He wanted to cry, but he felt like he was running low on tears. Not to mention, he didn't want to give anyone watching the satisfaction.

When he blinked, he still felt the old sting of the pepper spray. When he inhaled, his ribs cringed. Not broken, but not far off.

He healed. He always did. He didn't tell anyone but he'd been stabbed eight times in an attempted robbery before. When he didn't come home, his foster parents called the cops on him. Typical.

He woke up covered in blood. There wasn't much to discuss. He was late and two tardies shy of not making the football team. All for no reason now.

Much like back then, he was still covered in blood as he looked himself over. Big swollen bruises covered his arms. Blood stains and dirt streaks marred his uniform. He looked a mess.

The door into the quiet concrete walled room swung open.

Another officer came in.

Amaru's adrenaline began to course through his veins with a slow burn.

The officer dropped a thick file on his desk and set his coffee down.

"Let's get straight to the point, my name is Officer Johnson. You were originally going down for assault and many were arguing you should be charged with second degree attempted murder. But after your little fiasco in your cell two hours ago, it's obvious this is far worse. You're a terrorist."

"A terrorist?" He'd been called worse.

Officer Johnson opened up the file, "Here in my officers reports, it says you smuggled in a gross amount of blood thinning analgesics, took them in your cell, and then made a racket to attract the other officers. Once inside, you attacked them, when they worked to restrain you, due to the blood thinners, it made your injuries look worse than they were. You're attempting to profit from a police brutality lawsuit, arent you? That's a whole lot of premeditation."

Amaru laughed to himself.

Officer Johnson placed two bags on the table. One held a pair of brass knuckles and the other was a bottle of Tylenol.

"These were found in your cell."

"Of course they were." Amaru said.

Officer Johnson jumped at the response, "Are you saying my officers are liars? They've served this city for a decade each. What have you done for this city? You've done nothing but throw away opportunities sent your way and now you're attacking the police. You've built quite the case against yourself over the years."

Officer Johnson flipped through the files, "Vandalism of private property at twelve, assault of three teachers at thirteen, gang violence at fourteen, now look at you. A cop-harming terrorist. You're lucky to get off with only a few bruises."

"Bruises…." Amaru thought as he looked down at himself, "They always say bruises."

He looked down at his leg. Where the three-hundred pound offensive linemen cleat mashed it. There wasn't even a bruise. Not a scratch.

It's like the entire world was out to make him wrong.

Maybe his previous foster home was right. Maybe he was schizophrenic. It would explain the visions and outbursts.

"You're going down for a long time." The officer said.

Then Amaru looked up at the officer.

There were no bugs. No oily tendrils slithering out of his eyes. No devilish wings unfurling from his back. He was just a man. And just as evil.

It wasn't Amaru. It was reality.

"What? You want to try and attack me to? Come on. Do it. Put a pin in this case so I can go home early and you can shack up in your cell." Officer Johnson pressed.

Amaru clenched his jaw.

He saw The offensive lineman in the officers face. He saw the cops with their batons and grins. He saw…..

A memory.

"Don't." The man said.

He said to keep surviving. He said it's what Amaru had been doing his whole life. To hear someone else say it was heartbreaking in a way. But also cathartic. Like someone else could really see. Like he wasn't the only one who saw the bugs and injustice.

"Ok. I'm waiting. But not for nothing."

Amaru leaned back, eyes fluttering as he felt an oncoming sneeze.

"If you spit at m—"

"CHOOO!" Amaru lunged forward as he sneezed. His knee flew up, smashing into the underside of the table.

Officer Johnson's coffee cup was thrown into the air, flinging steaming brown liquid onto his face and chest.

"AAAAHT!" He screamed, frozen in pain before bunching up his face in anger, "You little sh—"

The door swung open suddenly.

Officer Johnson didn't care. It spoke to the department norms as he lunged across the table and began choking Amaru.

Or at least trying to.

Amaru's neck and traps were too thick for him to get his hands all the way around.

Either way, the officer squeezed.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

The woman's voice startled the officer. Without letting go, he looked up to find a six foot tall woman in an all black suit standing in the doorway with a body cam lens pined to her chest.

Officer Johnson saw it too and backed away immediately.

"Mr. Mawh was having an episode and needed to be restrained—"

"Then I suggest you use proper restraints, which don't involve strangle holds….. you know, since they're illegal. Also known as a fireable offense. I'll settle with a lawsuit and immediate release for my client, though."

"Lawsuit— immediate release? Just who the hell do you think you are? I'm a Sergeant—"

"I am Ms Thena Markos, Attorney for the Onyxrath Lawfirm." Ms. Markos flashed her badge and information with a flip of her wallet.

Whoever the lawfirm was, they were known. Amaru could tell by the loss of color in Officer Johnson's face as he backed away.

Ms. Markos looked around the room. She seemed larger than her physical height. She had a lot of presence. And tattoos that were visible on her hands and up her neck. Her hair was black and curly, spinning down her back in a tight ponytail. She had a long mannish nose that took up much of her face and firm black eyes.

"I've done nothing wrong here. We're doing what we can to handle a terrorist!" Officer Johnson said.

"Yea, yea. You're on camera strangling a fifteen year old boy." Ms. Marko said as she continued looking around.

"He tried to attack me!"

"You all attacked him."

"He smuggled weapons and contraband into my department."

Ms. Markos walked further into the room.

Officer Johnson stepped in her way, "You're obstructing Justice—"

"Back up. Now." Her voice dropped an octave. Her suit even looked tighter around her arms and legs. "Or do boys not have the right to an attorney anymore?"

Officer Johnson swallowed and got out of the way.

Ms. Markos came and sat next to Amaru. She turned to face him.

"Hello, I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances."

Amaru cleared his throat, "Mhm…"

"May I see your hands?" She asked pleasantly.

Amaru hesitated only barely before raising them to her.

"Hmm…. " She studied them before looking back to Officer Johnson, "I don't know about you, but I've got a whole internet and criminal database worth of brass knuckle assault cases. You know the best way to determine the validity of one?"

Officer Johnson was quiet, knowing she wasn't talking to him, but the people that would be watching this all over her recording via body cam.

She lifted Amaru's hands to show him, "It's the bruises along the fingers. Brass knuckles don't discriminate. They hit back. People wear them wrong. Usually they don't have proper punch technique. Look at his hands…." She showed her cam, "The only part of his body that isn't bruised. While we're at it, we can get an outside investigation on those officers he attacked. They won't show brass knuckle injury. I know they won't."

Officer Johnson was in disbeleif.

So was Amaru.

It was just like the man in his mind. She saw what he saw.

"Hmmm….. I'll enjoy tearing down this department with lawsuits and brutality claims." She said in an almost villainous tone.

Officer Johnson was red in the face as he stared at her, "This…. This is bullshit! This is abuse of power! You can't just waltz into a department recording sensitive material and making bold claims because you're some hotshot lawyer!"

"Uh-huh." Ms. Markos and Amaru watched the Officer fumble in his rage.

"You... I know you!" He pointed at her, "You and that lawfirm. You're just a bunch of radicals that hate the men giving their lives to protect you."

Ms. Markos raised an eyebrow as she looked him up and down, "Man…. protect me?"

She laughed so loud it made Amaru jump.

"Get out. This is a breach of lawful process."

"No." Ms. Markos replied.

"Then I'll make you leave."

She cross her arms and leaned back in her chair, "Will that be before or after internal affairs gets here?"

Officer Johnson's eyes were as wide as saucers.

Ms. Markos smiled, "How about you give me and my client some privacy. You've got work to do."

Officer Johnson stormed out of the room.

Ms. Markos got up and sat across from him in his old seat.

"I don't have any money." Amaru started.

"Not yet."

"What?"

Ms. Markos grinned like a hungry wolf.

"….. do I know you?" Amaru asked.

"No. But you've waited long enough."

The response didn't immediately make sense to Amaru. Not until he remembered what the man in the longcoat said.

"Survive a while longer. Just wait a while longer."

"You're….."

"Yes. She's with me." Suddenly the man in the hooded longcoat was standing right beside her with a hand rested on her shoulder.

She shrugged him off with a snarl, "Back off, Wizard."

"I am not a wizard. I am Awakened. There's great difference." He replied.

"No matter what you say, you're a man, Wesley. And no man on Gaia's earth will touch me. Not without certifying his own death."

Wesley, who was shoved across the room, recovered and dusted off his longcoat, "My gods…. you're so preachy. I bet you enjoyed every second of that oppressor cop revenge-porn fantasy, huh?"

"Not enough violence to get me off, but it was exciting at points. I wish I could've seen the bastard burn." She grinned again. "I haven't scalded a man in a long time…"

"Relax before you transform." Wesley said to her.

"Don't assume my lack of control."

Wesley laughed, "Speaking of control…." He turned to face Amaru. "You did great, man."

"…..thanks." Amaru was beyond lost.

"Are you ready to get out of here?" Wesley asked.

"And go where?"

"To a real home." Ms. Markos said.

"A place full of people who can see. Just like you. A place to discuss the truth of the world and its histories. A place where you can start to fight back. A place where you can start to fight for something more than….. a football game."

Ms. Markos pushed aside Wesley to speak again.

"We're asking if you'd like to come with us to Chicago or stay in jail here in racist patriarchy-town."