Mean Streak (BoyxBoy Werewolf Story)

Chapter 1: Survivor

Beck

Hell. Absolute hell.

Ever since I can remember, my life has been a set of what I feel like are unrealistic expectations.

My father is the chief of our tribe. A hard man who thinks he has to protect us from every danger like we were still in the colonization era.

Add that to the fact that he is also a werewolf, then it's a host of secrets he has to protect. He really feels like it's us versus them.

And that would be fine, if he didn't lay out all his frustrations on me. His own son.

'You're the chief's son. You can't walk around like a pansy. You have to act like a warrior.'

He has been training me ever since I could walk in multiple forms of combat. It's like he's raising a soldier instead of a son.

'No son of mine will be caught off guard. You have to keep your guard up always.'

I'm already constantly with my guard up. But that's because of him, not anyone else. My mother tries to run interference whenever she can, but unfortunately my father seems to have an infinite amount of time to hassle me.

And it's not like he just wants me to be the warrior type - which is the furthest thing that I want. I absolutely hate violence of any kind.

But it's like he wants me to be a completely different person than I am. Nothing I ever do can satisfy him. It's never enough.

'Stand up straight, son.'

'Walk like a man, son.'

'No son of mine can be that feminine. Behave like a man!'

Please tell me, father. What is to behave like a man? How can everything I do be wrong? Even my voice he finds issue with.

Give me freaking break. I'm exhausted. I have to go school every morning, then come back to train with the warriors of our pack.

He's hellbent on making me "man up" but I'm already a man. I don't know what else he wants from me...

I mean, I do know it. He wants a straight, macho type of man like he is and I can never be that. It's just not who I am.

I'd much rather be playing with my mother's make-up than be playing fight with sweaty men. Why do we even have to fight anyone? They have guns. If anyone needs defending, use them.

Just not me, I appall violence or weapons of any kind.

But do I have a say in the matter? Of course, not. Why ask ME what I want to do with my life?

If you ask me, I don't even want to follow in my father's footsteps and become the next chief of our pack.

I'd like to branch out of the reservation, go to college and meet new people. It's not like the people here suck, but when every single person answers to your father... who are you supposed to complain to?

Especially considering he rules with an iron fist. I just wish he left his chief business outside of our house and family.

My name is Kuckunniwi Becker, Beck for short. I am 17 years old and I live on a reservation in the South of the United States.

Yes, I was born a werewolf. Same as all the other people who live here. We're a special kind of tribe, a pack.

Life in the reservation has its trials and tribulations, but also its privileges. Just not for me, the broken one.

Yeah, I'm afraid it gets worse.

Not only am I not the son my father wants, I'm also not the werewolf he needs me to be.