Spike Drake was running. He loped across the tall grassy clearing in the forest at speeds that would appear as blurs to human eyes.
Spike absolutely loved running through the forest at night, especially during nights of the full moon. The adrenaline pushing him forward at great speed, the wind rushing over his fur, the peacefulness of the night, the moon illuminating his path, he loved it all.
A powerful howl escaped his lips in joy of his moonlight run. He wished his mother would join him tonight. She also loved these moonlit runs, too.
Both Spike and his mother were Werewolves. The classic monsters that were humans having the ability to change into wolves or wolf-like creatures.
Werewolves had recently revealed themselves to humanity around twenty years ago. It went about as good as one could expect. Humans were a bit divided in terms of their opinions on Werewolves. Most were very open and excepting of their species, while others were very antagonistic and even racist towards them.
The town where Spike and his mother live, Canterlot, was run by an anti-Werewolf city government. The mayor, Mayor Neighsay, established many anti-Werewolf laws within the city. He established a Werewolf Registry Bureau, which made all citizens moving into the city to undergo a blood test and registration as a Werewolf. They had to also tell their new neighbors that they were Werewolves. He helped Congress pass the bill to approve the construction of Werewolf-only prisons, affectionately called "Kennels". He even formed a group of humans tasked with policing the city's Werewolf community.
These guys were called the "Silversmiths". But they were simply violent bullies who enjoy abusing Werewolves, and sought every reason under the moon to arrest or murder them. They were armed with silver weapons and devices meant to capture Werewolves. Needless to say, these Werewolf hunters were hated by the city's Werewolf population.
Opposing the anti-Werewolf government was a group of humans called the "Sons of Fenrir". They were a group of pro-Werewolf activists who did everything they could to counter Mayor Neighsay's policies. Some of their branches are peaceful, while others are a bit more militant. There was even an incident a few months ago where a branch of the Sons bombed a truck of Silversmith operatives, killing all twelve operatives in the truck. In reprisal, some drunk Silversmiths raped and killed a young female Werewolf. No charges were filed and no arrests were made.
But Spike and his mother have been trying their very best to live among the humans of the city peacefully. There were a few ups and downs, but they were okay.
Spike was often bullied in school for his lycanthropy. One of the names some of the bullies would call him was "Dog", a racial slur to Werewolves. Despite the name-calling, none of the bigger and more imposing bullies ever attempted to get violent with Spike. They were afraid of Spike wolfing out and killing them.
But Spike would never hurt them. At least, not in his wolf form. But even in his human form, he had the same strengths of his wolf form, including increased strength, speed, stamina, and senses.
His mother got a job working for the local school as a librarian. Despite insults from her coworkers, the children love her since they loved having a Werewolf at their school.
Spike's Werewolf form was that of a humanoid wolf. He could move on two legs as well as four and his head sported pointed ears and a short muzzle. His fur was a kaleidoscope of white, silver, gray, a small spot of green on the top of his head, and bits of black. His eyes had changed from green to golden-yellow
He had been running through the forest for at least an hour now. He ran to the top of a hill and surveyed his surroundings. It was indeed a beautiful full moon night. Spike could smell the woods, his neighbor cooking steaks, and human blood.
Wait, human blood? Why was Spike smelling human blood? From what he could tell, this blood smelled fresh. He could also tell that the smell was coming from somewhere close to his neighborhood!
Spike took off in the direction of the smell. He had to really push his speed and stamina to find the source of the smell.
After a few minutes of running, Spike turned down an alleyway between two small buildings. What he saw there made his blood freeze in his veins.
There was a small girl lying dead on the ground in the alley. Her face was a mask of horror. The front of her shirt was torn to reveal her fleshless ribs and stomach. Standing over her was a large male Werewolf. The guy was silhouetted in the darkness of the alley so Spike couldn't make out any distinctive details apart from his right eye being yellow and his left being bright blue.
Spike let out a threatening growl. "What did you do, you monster?!"
The killer in front of him didn't reply with words. Instead, the killer launched himself towards Spike and began to beat him. Spike tried to fight him off, but the killer was too quick for him to land a blow. Soon, the killer Werewolf pinned Spike down on his back and started beating his head with his fists. Overpowered by his assailant, Spike fell unconscious.
A Few Hours Later
Spike woke up in an environment unfamiliar to him. A bright light shone in his eyes. He blinked himself awake and struggled to adjust to the light. After a few minutes, he was lucid enough to take full stock of where he was.
He found himself no longer in his Werewolf form. He was strapped to a metal chair with strong steel cuffs and chains around his wrists and ankles. Spike could also feel a muzzle wrapped around his head.
The walls around him were a painful clinical shade of white and made of cinderblock. Directly in front of him was a metal table with a regular chair and a huge two-way mirror behind it. To Spike's left was a metal door the same shade of white as the walls. The sound of a lock being unlocked brought Spike's attention to the door.
The door opened to reveal a woman wearing a militant-looking uniform that was a bright silver in color. She was admittedly attractive, but from the uniform she was wearing, Spike could tell she was a Silversmith. Her yellow and orange hair gave her a pretty aggressive appearance. A sheathed silver machete hung at her hip. The name on her dog-tag read "Spitfire".
"Why am I here?" Spike asked the female Silversmith.
"Quiet. It's not your place to speak," Spitfire said. "But to answer your question, you're in the Silversmith Forge, our headquarters, and we'd like to ask you a few questions".
Spike was in the Silversmith's headquarters! He was in the Silversmith Forge and was about to be interrogated by one of them.
Spitfire sat down in the chair in front of Spike, put her elbows on the table, and cradled her head in her hands. She looked at Spike with a serious expression.
"First question, did you kill that little girl we found you with last night?" she asked him.
