The Jehovah's Witnesses were praying to God as the half-track rumbled through the cold, French night. The German prison camp operators had herded the eight of them together, briefly informed them that they'd been 'selected' for an 'excursion', and hurried them onto the armored vehicle at gun point. Matthew stared at his scared, beaten fellows, seeing the hand of Satan's minions in their current, depraved state. The devout Christian man knew they were likely to be executed soon, or worse, subjected to experimentation. Matthew feared spiritual and physical corruption from the strange injections many of his fellow Witnesses were subjected to, at their secretive, unnamed work camp, somewhere in the French countryside.
Generaloberst Salmuth felt exceedingly grumpy as his driver trundled through the cold, French countryside in his shaking kubelwagen. The officer had firmly decided that this strange Oberstveterinar named Heller, who's bizarre projects had been introduced to him with unjustifiable enthusiasm from high command, would be punished if this proved to be yet another waste of time. The greatcoat bundled general irritably turned to the excited bonesaw "Herr doktor, we are approaching dangerously close to the Allied front line. You are absolutely certain you have everything in order? You will not be receiving another chance." Salmuth finished, curtly. The Oberstveterinar turned to him, returning his irritation with a strained, weak smile, and responded in his lisping, academic voice "A real combat scenario is the best facilitator to encourage the serum's full activation. You said we couldn't use fit reservists for the lethal experiments, so a live fire test will have to do."
As the half-track suddenly halted, Matthew stared at each of his fellow Witnesses. Their hands restrained, the believers formed a prayer circle by tapping their shoes together, praying to be delivered from the evil's of Earth, and granted everlasting salvation in God's eternal kingdom. As the German soldiers pointed rifles into the hatch and ordered them out, Matthew searched his heart for the grace to endure whatever trials lay ahead. The eight pious men, each having refused to renounce their faith, were lined up, the clouds diffusing moonlight across the rolling French countryside. Matthew nervously watched, as a decorated military officer, jangling with medals, walked over in stride with an emaciated man in a white doctor's coat. Without a word, the foul-smelling, twitchy doctor produced a series of large, glass, hypodermic syringes. The strange fluid within seeming almost to glow in the soft moonlight as it sloshed around. The first injection recipient struggled so much, the guards had to physically restrain him to allow the doctor to proceed down the line. Matthew's face burned red, as he felt especially trespassed to have his body, his holy temple unto God, desecrated by whatever filthy muck this sinner was testing on them.
"Do not be misled by their sudden resistance, these are the meekest pacifists you will find, herr Generaloberst. Their scriptures forbade them the wonders of modern medicine, so they reject the gift I offer, but it makes no difference. They will prove ample test subjects to prove the serums validity. Order your men to force them forward, we should make distance between us before the clouds clear. The serum activates surprisingly quick in environments such as this." Heller prattled on, as Salmuth resented being ordered around by the lowly medical experimenter. He raised a gloved hand, and the soldiers started cracking their rifle butts against the restrained prisoners, beating at them and urging them forward. Several of the Jehovah's Witnesses began running away, as Salmuth fired his Luger pistol in the air for emphasis, sending the whole crowd sprinting forward. "Mount up everyone, I'll observe with a spotting periscope from that hilltop." Salmuth finished crisply.
Matthew bounded away, not understanding the implications of the inexplicable scenario unfolding before him, but wishing to be free from his immoral jailers. He waved over his brothers as they crested the nearest hill, trying to keep them together. However, several of his fellows were too scared, and scattered like chickens in different directions. Matthew felt his blood pumping, his heart racing, and his skin tingling as he ran as fast and far as he could, his brothers keeping close pace. His eyes began to quickly adjust to the nighttime darkness, until the clouds above parted, revealing the full moon in its entire glory, and everything began changing.
Matthew felt his legs wobbling, his breathing becoming shallow, and his vision blurring, as his mind raced to process what was happening. The pious man tripped, fell, and scrambled back up, desperately scrambling along the ground, as his entire body began aching and burning with intense, bizarre sensations. He felt like he was on fire, as his muscles twitched uncontrollably. A wall of pain crashed down upon him, making Matthew scream as his head rolled back, his neck snapping upwards as he involuntarily gazed up at the moon. His brothers simultaneously experienced the same physical distress, the sound of creaking bone and sinew filling the air, as they began to change. Matthew's face and limbs began to elongate into lupine dimensions. Dark, coarse fur sprouted across his body, as rapidly grown muscle filled out his lanky frame. The pain intensified in measure with the pace of his transformation, and slowly Matthew's screams turned to inhuman howls of agony. He growled as he tore off his ragged clothes, exposing his now muscular torso, covered in thick, dark hair. His fingers and toes lengthened and sharpened to lethal claws, and his eyes turned bright and yellow, turning from human to wolf, as the moonlight made his pupils glow. Matthew instinctively leapt towards his brothers, who had similarly transformed, as the werewolves formed into a bloodthirsty pack. The scent of prey attracted the transformed, bestial creatures forward.
The American invasion camp had settled into a defensible copse of dense woods and shrubs on a hill in Basse-Normandie. Staring out of the bocage foliage, the young U.S. sentry squinted as he saw a pack of animals sprinting over a nearby hill. The volunteer didn't know what the M.O. was on local wildlife, as he wondered what to do. He got nervous as they continued bounding forward. They looked like big wolves, and were bearing down fast, so he shot a warning shot, hoping nobody would be pissed if he raised a ruckus. The shaggy beasts continued approaching, as the sentry fired his Garand true, but barely caused the beast to flinch, though he was sure he'd plugged it. Several other nearby soldiers began firing alongside, roused to action as the huge, hulking wolves finished closing the distance.
The military men quickly realized they weren't dealing with wolves, as the skirmish escalated into a massacre and route. No matter the caliber, the humanoid wolf beasts refused to be felled by small arms, their bodies regenerating almost as quickly as they could be injured. Even a grenade only managed to slow down one of the hulking werewolves, who collapsed as it waited for its shattered leg to mend. The wolf creatures whirled through the sleepy military camp like dervishes, coating themselves in gore as the soldiers proved completely unable to defend themselves. As the slaughter continued, the American forces began to retreat, piling into whatever supply trucks and jeeps they could to escape, as those attempting to retreat on foot did not get far.
Matthew bounded after a retreating jeep, fur matted with dried viscera, his canine jaws open and slobbering with bloody spit. Even his superhuman legs failed to catch up with the speeding vehicle, as his predatory attention was distracted by a nearby farmstead. Matthew diverted course, and sprinted towards the smell of fresh, live prey within. As the werewolf tore through the solid wood door, he was greeted with a double-barrel blast of birdshot from a scared farmer man, but his thick hide and muscles endured the flattening pellets without qualm. A swipe of his elongated, humanoid paw ripped the man's jaw clean off, as Matthew's furry, lupine ears became excited by the sound of screaming. The frenzied wolf man tore through the house towards the source, as his glowing canine eyes settled on two hysteric French women.
The distressed state of the matron and maiden made the werewolf's transformed body engorge differently than the earlier battle had elicited. The growling beastman menacingly crept towards the desperately clutching pair, his claws still dripping with their patriarch's blood, as he sniffed at them inquisitively. The werewolf immediately pounced on the pair, shredding their clothes off with his clawed hands as his canine knot engorged in preparation for hedonistic satiation. The transformed creature's stomach grumbled as it wrestled with his pale, petite victims, as Matthew's enhanced metabolism was starved into an unnatural state of hunger by his earlier battle performance. As the werewolf forced the younger French woman down on all-fours onto the hardwood floor, he firmly grasped the elder's throat, and began guiding her head towards his slavering maw. The wolfman's face contorted into a snarl, as his mouth stretched wide open as he prepared to devour his prey, whole and alive, while simultaneously rutting with her daughter.
With one claw, the transformed Matthew began forcing the French mother's face into his salivating maw, guiding her past his sharp teeth and slobbering tongue. Matthew's mouth grew wider as his body pressed down on the smaller woman, until he was able to force his jaws around her head and shoulders, the panicked woman's head scraping against the slimy roof of his muzzle. The werewolf had to be careful, as his powerful jaws were easily capable of tearing the fragile flesh of his prey apart, but he was determined to do this right. With his jaws latched around the older woman's back and chest, Matthew guided his muzzle downwards, forcing his mouth further apart, as he assertively coaxed the terrified woman into his waiting, hungry maw. The matron's face struggled to fit down his narrow throat as he wolfed her down, the werewolf's eyes bulging out of their sockets as he savored her delicate flavor, and the pleasurable pressure of her firm breasts in his eager mouth. The matron's shoulders settled into his neck as Matthew forced more of her body into his mouth, until even her hips and backside were getting mashed down his abnormally flexible throat. He gagged as he attempted to swallow the frightened woman whole, but he was able to choke her down, her body disappearing down his gullet as her hysteric daughter watched from below.
The young French maiden began shaking wildly as she watched her mother disappear down the werewolf's throat, her mother's muffled cries still audible as the woman's squirming outline slowly settled in the werewolf man's bloated stomach, as it swelled rapidly to accommodate the new burden. The girl screamed as she witnessed her mother being consumed alive by the monster, but the werewolf wasn't done yet. While he was digesting his live, squirming meal, the changed man squatted over the whimpering young girl, gripping her hips tight as he positioned her tight rump in front of his throbbing knot. Her frightened eyes widened as she felt the massive wolfman's prick begin to press against her tender, feminine nether regions, as she sobbed uncontrollably.