I have in my possession, a very old book, which has been carefully protected over hundreds of years. The pages are delicate and yet in very good order, the cover seems to be of a stiff dark maroon coloured leather, with a symbol embossed into it, and a title underneath it.
From what I’ve managed to work out, is that it’s possibly very old French, and loosely translates to “The Diary”.
The book appears to be a compilation of stories, written by our people in a variety of languages and dialects over the course of around two hundred years.
I couldn’t read any of it, of course, although naturally there have been rough translations of parts of the book from time to time, However lately there has been more interest in the contents of the book, thanks mainly to our kind gathering on the internet and desperately trying to find genuine information, which is an exceedingly difficult thing to do, as you may imagine.
The book was passed on to me only quite recently, as the owner felt that I would take good care of it, and I have been busy photographing the pages and uploading them to our forum.
Photographing, as you may understand, is a safer procedure than the torture of a flatbed scanner, I could not face man-handling such an old tome in this manner.
The photos also add a warmth which a scan would fail to do, and this seems to bring the text to life, I can almost imagine reading the book by candle-light eons ago, when I see the results, which is what many of us must’ve done at some point.
But perhaps enough of this, you’re here for the juicy bits.
Once upon a time, Werewolves and Humans lived together in peace, they played together, sang together, ate together and had families together… the two were bonded, and villages who kept to this way of life tended to prosper.
There was no electricity back then, no television or internet to keep people awake til four in the morning, and farming was a tough life, especially without the modern farming tools we have today.
People would often fall asleep around dusk, except for those who drank, and there were always a few of those… and possibly the odd weary traveler.
Our people tended to wake in the afternoon, and do whatever we needed to do during the afternoon or evening. Today people jump to conclusions, We were hunters, well yes and no, people often forget that we are people too, and we often had farms of our own to tend to, life for us was no easier.
With Humans working in the early morning, and us working at night, things tended to get done quicker, there was more food, better health, and because we were awake mostly at night, more security.
We have translated parts of the book where it suggests that Werewolves were also healers, but how this was done is not known at this point.
Life was hard, but for the time it was practically ideal, If Werewolves and Humans got on so well, then why did everything fall apart, and why did the Werewolves almost vanish from the face of the Earth what went wrong?
From what we can tell, it seems there was a shift when religion entered the fray, and although it had little immediate effect on the community, over time, it did.
People began to believe that they were hand crafted by God, and every other creature was below them… The Werewolves, of course, with their unusual abilities, were to be cast as demons.
Of course not everyone believed in the new religion and stuck to the old ways, but this caused a dangerous precedent… if you were not with the crowd, then you were a witch.
The Werewolves saw what was coming for quite some time, our help was no longer needed or wanted, we were shunned, and sadly the only option available to us, was to move away.
Unfortunately this proved to be hard on both camps, The Humans, though satisfied with their new religion, didn’t seem to notice the poverty they had acquired, nor did they seem to care that many of their children couldn’t read, There had been time to read stories before, but now people seemed far too busy for that.
For us, there was less food, and sadly fewer friendly faces, our people had great holes in their hearts, we felt cold and empty, like pet dogs who had been dumped on the side of a road.
We walked, not together, but wherever the path took us, We settled anywhere that we could eke out a living, be it land or sea.
There were no packs, and this caused a problem… some of our children grew up by themselves and never saw the change, How could we have any idea that seeing the change was necessary, so that the young ones could do it too?
Werewolves dissolved into legend.
People just didn’t know who or what they were, they inter-bred with Humans, and the genes thinned out even more.
Throughout time, one or two here and there accidentally found that they could change, but this was rare.
Naturally they wanted to know about the transformation, but all they could find were horror stories about Werewolves killing and eating Humans, which we never did, even when we had no idea.
We saw that we were called Monsters, and this chilled us to the bone, especially those who believed that they had been curse and would burn in Hell after death, even though they knew they were kind and loving people.
In fear that we would do some great harm, many would lock themselves in cages by night, or they’d bind themselves with chains.
The stories said the change was bought on by night, or by witchcraft, and was not in our control, which it always had been, and still is. So we’d chain ourselves up, or lock ourselves in cages, and some of us took our own lives.
Movies tell people that a bite or scratch from a Werewolf would pass on the curse.
But remember, most of us carry the gene… so if you were bitten by one of us, some poor blighter infected with nothing more than a deep seated belief that we are an evil species, is it the bite which caused your own transformation, or what was already in your blood combined with a confronting vision that our kind really DO exist?
Alas what makes us what we are is highly susceptible to suggestion, and sometimes after a person is bitten, that big round moon may be all it takes to trigger those genes into a full transformation.
There’s a small pack of us in Melbourne, and we get together at a pub which isn’t visible to the street, it’s nice to get together on cold nights and sit inside where it’s warm and drink hot chocolate, play music or watch a movie together, we love a good comedy.
And we talk about our History, The book has not been completely figured out, but we know enough to know for certain that if we are anything, we are definitely not monsters.
Though we don’t lay blame on humanity either, we’re just a little bit lost, and are trying to find each other.
When we do find someone, it takes a while to get them to understand that they can change whenever they like, that it has nothing to do with Moonlight, and that eating with silver cutlery isn’t going to poison them.
But it’s a lot like anxiety you know, you can’t just tell someone “it’s all in your head” even though, really, it is.
A lot of healing is needed, but we’re getting there slowly.