ELIJAH SKOLL

A G E || 29
J O B || Garbage Collector
R A C E || Werewolf 
A L I G N M E N T || True Neutral

A beast. 
 
There really wasn’t a better word for what Elijah had been. 
 
Given over to the beast, Elijah had forsaken his humanity in order to succumb to the true nature of a monster. Massive in size (even compared to other werewolves) and black as night, Elijah was known for his monstrous acts of violence across the country. The media painted him as a mindless animal and said that he had forsaken any human consciousness. But he still retained the cruelty of a human... real wolves do not kill for sport and pleasure. He was all the ferocity of a wolf with the willpower of a human. 
 
He ate children. More accurately- he liked to hunt children, make them fear him for days, their cries useless in the dead of the woods. He would end it slowly, brutally, drawing out their screams until it gurgled crimson from their throats. He would go after hunters in the deep of the woods, he would savage campers, he’d slip through alleyways and rip woman off sidewalks. Seemingly, Elijah had no pattern to his attacks. He simply killed for the sport and sheer violence of it.  
 
He’d follow victims into cities- no wolf could pursue a human this far, but the power of werewolves allowed them to hunt in bars, hotels, and homes. He wasn’t charismatic enough to convince people he was not a beast- and he looked every ounce the part. Sharp canines, rugged skin from months in the woods. Untamed, curly hair he did little too control. A grin that screamed predator and eyes filled with violence. Yellow, a stark contrast to his deep black hair, told the whole world what he was. 
 
His infamy as a monster and high profile killer lasted years. Werewolves were difficult to catch and Elijah was one of the most powerful in history. He held influence amongst the wolves, controlled a vast territory all to himself, and did not hesitate to rip apart anyone that hinted at being a threat. 
 
In recent years, it was frowned upon to kill werewolves. A movement to stop the killing of creatures that had no control over their actions. Lycanthropy was seen as a disease, something uncontrollable to the victim like cancer. We do not kill cancer patients, how could we with werewolves? Fueled by government funding, a serum was created that withheld the werewolves ability to change- without the control of the beast, a lycanthropy sufferer could live a seemingly normal life. A few months of therapy, continuing checkups, but otherwise a healthy, normal human. 
 
Though still in beta testing, it was decided that the first test subject would be Elijah. Threat, killer, and terror to society, Elijah Skoll was to be used as a star example of how the serum- Wolfsbane- could change the view on werewolves. If they could fix Public Enemy #1, who couldn’t be fixed? 
 
Catching him took months. They lost five people transporting his cage, and another two when getting him locked up at the facility. But after that.... 
 
The treatment worked. Stunningly so.  
 
It took over a year, but Elijah was... perfect. Where before had stood a beast, now stood a handsome young man. No one knew him before he had cut the cord of humanity, so there was no comparison to how he once was. But he was human, enough at least to pass in society- though to any trained eye, it was obvious he was off. 
 
A puppet of a human. Something with all the emotions and smiles, but it was almost like the puppeteer wasn’t matching his face with his movements. Like Elijah didn’t quiet understand why he was choosing to act the way he was. He smiled when needed (actually, he smiled a lot, probably too much). He laughed, though it was a bit too loud and filled with echoes of a growl. He was witty, quick to pleasantries and small talk, and all around a Good Guy. The guy you’d take to basketball during lunch, drink beers with after work, call on your day off for a hike. But it was all just a well-perfected charade of what a modern human man should be. 
 
Elijah follows the schedule written out for him by his therapist obediently. For all he knows he’s a recovered werewolf, taking his Wolfsbane shots every day, attending his appointments once a week, doing his best to right the wrongs of his past. He’d hit so many landmarks this year, they’d released him into a half way home and gotten him a job as a garbage collector. The media had gone insane at his release, but everyone continued to paint him as Fixed. 
 
He no longer shifts. The week of the full moon is hell though. The savage thing inside him claws right below the surface, bringing a bit of who he was back. But, he does not shift. The wolf is squashed beneath drugs and a facade built on a year of torturous rehabilitation treatment. The drugs keep him even- a flat line of emotions that make it easy for him to be the Good Person he is. Rehabilitation Werewolf Poster Boy of the Year.  
 
He was a lycanthropy survivor. A hero and example of what you can do if you allow the serum to take control of your life.  
 Give in, let go of the beast, you too can have a normal life. ™