Fóllalo, follala, fóllalos, vete a la maldita manada. A pesar de los hechos, a pesar de todo lo que se dijo, todavía me sentenciaron. Fuck him, fuck her, fuck them, fuck that damn pack. Despite the facts, despite everything that was said, they still sentenced me. Fuck being apologetic, because every time I think about that damn pack I think of them. Catalina and Gadiel. The very thought of those two makes my blood boil and I wouldn’t mind watching them burn together. Too bad, Im far from their eyes, but sadly the situations I’ve been in couldn’t have been any better. At least in the pack I knew I was relatively safe. My name is Raquel Vendoza Rojas, I was born and raised in Mexico City, though my life there isn’t worth talking about. I had an asshole father, who treated my mother like a whore in front of his friends, and treated me like a slave. Men…. I would become a lesbian if women weren’t so damn annoying and catty. I’ve learned over time that there isn’t anyone worth trusting or loving, other than yourself. My father wasn’t a drunk, he did drugs, though he was an asshole well before chopped anything up and snorted it through his nostril.
Mexico City is dangerous, both in the streets and in your homes. The number of cartels that runs through Mexico and other Latin provinces is what makes Mexico so dangerous. The cartels have only gotten worse overtime, especially with the complete frenzy over supernatural creatures. I think it would be easier to say my father was a part of a Cartel or bought from one, but nothing is ever easy, let alone predictable. My father did drugs, manufactured drugs, and then sold them off without a Cartel signing off on it. You know what he was doing? Causing trouble, being fucking stupid, an asshole, and the list could go on forever. My mother was too sweet and enthralled with the man she thought she loved that she didn’t mind helping him with his madness. I saw how much my father dick-matized her and manipulated her into something less than a human; which crippled my mother so much that she didn’t even know who she was any longer. My father would slap her on her ass in front of his friends just for laughs, though that’s just the bare minimum of embarrassment he caused my mother.
Mother wasn’t alone in feeding into my father’s no-good behavior as I was forced into helping as a young girl. Packaging was all he would make me do, but believe me it was as if I was working in a sweatshop. It wasn’t just me though as my sisters were also dragged into his mess. I knew it was only just a matter of time before a Cartel would find out about his fraudulent behavior, despite how illegal everything was in the first place. This went on for a while, matter of fact nobody cared until I was at least fifteen or sixteen, when Cartel members came storming into my home. My mother led me and my sisters to the back of our home, while the members dealt with that no good asshole, though we were already outside the house when we heard the gunshot. My mother was broken, but when she saw a way out she sure as hell took it. Ever since then, I stopped feeling sorry for my mother as I was proud to have her as mi madre. Before we officially left, my mother was able to grab enough cash to buy us a coyote to lead us across the border. We hated our father, but we did assist him in making drugs in turn made us competition for a Cartel, so it would be smart to leave the country than allow them to finish what they started.
I didn’t expect to be the only family traveling with a Coyote that night across the border, what was surprising was the amount of people. There were groups of people, I had only my two sisters and my mother going with me that night. There had to have been ten to fifteen more people going with us that night, though the journey ahead of us really tampered the numbers. The coyote told us there were a lot of animals out and we needed to always be with the group to avoid danger. We all saw animals, but the most dangerous thing we felt was the beaming rays of the sun making the journey that much hard to trek. I felt like my skin was sizzling the longer I stayed underneath the sun. Some people died of exhaustion and thirst, but all we could have done was pray over their body than kept going. We had to keep moving if we were going to cross the border safely. We try not to travel as much during the day because of the heat, but once the sun falls we cover more ground at night. Sadly, at night is when all the patrols are more constant, and animals are out.
One night, the moon was full in the sky and it was kind of cool, while we were still walking and close to the border. We were all traveling together when we all heard the ghostly howl of a wolf not too far behind us, though the Coyote told us that everything would be okay if we all stuck together. That would have been true, if we were dealing with a regular wolf. I could remember the number of screams that sounded the area, I could remember whipping my head around trying to see the beast, but every time I looked to where there was a scream it was gone, and body laid in its place. We all scattered when the beast attacked, and it was hard to control scared people who were in a panic, so the Coyote just took off in the direction of the border. All the screams, the snarls, blood splattering was ringing in my ears as I ran trying to catch up with the coyote. I was separated from my family when it all happened, though I assumed they were with the coyote. At one point, I was by myself and everyone was either dead or have crossed the border with the coyote. The wolf stood a few spaces away from me, snarling and baring its bloody fangs, while taking a step forward. I stepped back, but I wasn’t quick enough when it attacked me.
All I could remember was my flesh tearing and the powerful bite that grabbed my shoulder. I screamed so loud, yet no one could hear me. The creature mauled me viciously and all the pain caused me to fall unconscious under the mercy of the beast. I woke up with my body aching and I saw dried blood all over my body, but in places there should have been gashes to my body. I was disoriented for sure, and for a minute I could get up as my body was probably still in shock. The sun was rising in the distance by the time I sat up to see paw indentions in the dirt, though what troubled me was how fast my wounds have healed. Matter of fact, I shouldn’t have been alive after that attack, though I was really questioning if I was even attacked at all. I remember getting up, limping in the hot sun, before tripping over a mauled body. I got up in a fright trying to get away from the dismembered corpse, then I was able to run instead of limp. My joint wasn’t paining anymore, I could breathe easier, and my overall pain dissipated. I was fine. After seeing the dead body, my overall state of mind was not fine….
Eventually, I found my way to the border, crossing the river wasn’t easy and I was day out, so I had to be careful or risk getting pinched. Maybe even shot because you the U.S.A back then was shooting first and questions later. The cold war was dying down when I made it across the border to the United States, so making a life there wasn’t as hard as it was trying to make it in Mexico. Now, America had its challenges, but there were opportunities I’ve taken just to make it out there as a ‘human’. The first time I shifted, I was still by myself in the middle of nowhere, when the moon rose, and my bones began to crack, and my body began to morph itself to a different form. This was the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt, so much that I wanted my body to fall out, yet I couldn’t seem to escape the pain. There’s no other way to describe the kind of pain I was in, when I first turned, though when it was over I had no control over myself as my wolf had fool control. When my wolf allowed me to have control, I remembered everything that I did, I could remember the blood, the yelps, the death…
Took a while to get used to my new form, I was more scared than anything… I couldn’t identify with anything else, but the only remote thing I could think of was the Nahual of Mesoamerican cultures. Everything about me was heightened, my emotions were more sensitive, and I was a lot more reactive than normal. Some fits of anger gave way to my wolf taking over and releasing the beast that I am. I’ve killed before and I had to get used to the blood, though on average it was not a lot death that was caused by me. Still, coming from a girl who never killed a person before, doing it took some time to digest. I lived in America as an illegal immigrant and became a stripper in a club on the dirt roads of Texas to live on tips and dollars attached to my garments holding on by a thread. Before that, I had to get the wolf inside of me to compromise when and how it was going to behave. Sadly, like me, it didn’t go down without a fight. Many times, the slightest shit would tick me off enough to shift and...well that wasn’t good for anyone. Eventually, the wolf and I were able to come to terms, at least an understanding at the time. I got better at calming myself and not allowing my wolf total control, but sometimes she gets her way.
I was never asked for ID to work. All I ever needed was a rack and a pretty face, though the lifestyle wasn’t exactly what I bargained for. During the time I became a dancer, I’ve seen and been through a lot of things that tested my will. I remember one of my girls were being attacked in a back alley by a man who wanted her to come home with him. He was about to slap her when I grabbed him by his hand, but at that time I could feel my wolf riling up as her eyes were shining through my own as I held the man’s wrist. A deep rumble escaped my throat as I warned him to walk away, luckily for him he took the hint and took off, leaving me and Honey (that was her stripper name) behind. After that moment, I had to punch a wall to really keep my wolf in check, but she is a very persistent thing. We protect each other, people look down on strippers because we shed our clothes and dance for money, but many do not realize that we do not have a choice. Some bosses are not as kind as the next, some will abuse their girls, and some of our girls have ended up dead in some cases.
Eventually, I within the year I moved to New Orleans when my boss got a deal at spot for his dancers in several strip clubs in the area, which sounded like my lucky break as a stripper. What I didn’t plan was for my dancing days to be over. I met a man, his name was Ramone Gutierrez, and he was like me. A werewolf. This was my first encounter with another wolf since I was crossing the border, I can tell you the feeling was something different… I wasn’t afraid, I was expectant, I wanted to go with him because I realized in that moment how lonely I was. I mean I had my girls, but they were human. Everything made more sense when I was around my kind. Luckily for me, Ramone was recruiting and wanted more to add onto his numbers because there were contestants for his mantle of power when I came into play. The more supporters you have the bigger chances of winning he had. I joined the Wasoha pack under Ramone, though I still worked as a stripper to keep some change in my pocket, otherwise I was with the pack. Now, a few altercations came about, but I was a young mind with a hot mouth… Some had things to say about the way I live my life and make my money. Sometimes I had to say, at least my pussy is still tight and not worn.
The pack, eventually, became family and Ramone was a father to some, then a deadbeat to others. I looked up to Ramone, but I never really had a good example of a father figure, so I was always expecting the worse out of him. Though, his death did come as a surprise to me and I did mourn his loss, though we all knew it was going to happen at some point. There were too many hands just grabbing for his seat of power and his death was a tragedy, but a tragedy that was expected. As were the deaths of all the others who would obtain power for a brief flicker of time. In 1982, Gadiel Torrero, a handsome man would become alpha, and his physique was just as sharp as his ambition. My respect for him and fealty only grew with time, but at some point, it was either float or sink. I chose to float with the rest.
Gadiel had a little corner with a group of men at the strip club where I worked and he requested my company in the red lightened room. I remember walking over to him in nothing but a black leather bra and matching g-string as I placed a hand on his shoulder, while swaying my hips to the music. I saw his brother watching me to, though Andro is another topic all his own. Gadiel was my main concern at the time, he was attractive, so I didn’t mind dancing for him, but what I’ve always minded was being touched. You can look, but you never touch. In the business I was in, men always tried to abuse their power and try some slick shit… Gadiel wasn’t one to be considered as a gentleman, but his brother had some sort of manners. This encounter was enough to entice my way into Gadiel’s arms, then to his bed, and to his bed multiple times after.
Sadly, I failed to realize, again, that Gadiel was a womanizer, despite his eventual promise to another woman…. Before Catalina, me and Gadiel were nothing but sex for a while…. I was interested in his company, but I was too stubborn to allow anything to fester between us, other than just sex. I doubted he was the type to settle down anyway. Gadiel pursued a human, when I was done being his little sex toy. Eventually, I grew tired of being used because I knew I deserved better, and Gadiel was me settling. When he was seeing Catalina, I was never jealous, I honestly didn’t care, though he made it his business to flaunt her around in front of me as if she was trophy. Even when he was with Catalina, Gadiel wasn’t the type to settle down and I knew he wouldn’t have been the kind of man I wanted. I’ve seen him with other women before, while he was with Catalina as well.
Gadiel was a whore. Unfaithful even when he was in a union. Gadiel continued to come for me, but I continued to deny him. Catalina has seen me around him and walking away from him, though I know in some cases I know what they may look like, but if she would have given me the chance I probably would have been able to clear my name. Catalina just needed a little proof to get rid of me, but her reign as Miko hadn’t come yet. She had to deal with me for a while, especially since Gadiel had her mauled and she was turned into a werewolf because of the exchange. When the pack started Hell or High Water, I wanted to at least show my support as a pack member, but Catalina made it common knowledge that we were not on friendly terms. We’ve had altercations, I knew she was young and the control of her wolf was not even subpar, but it took two seconds for me to get in her face. Though, our altercations were in the very beginning, though Gadiel has made it perfectly clear that if I were to ever touch her than that would be a problem with him. I'm not a pussy and I will not take disrespect, but I know when to bite my tongue and swallow my pride.
Now, when werewolves were outed to the public things got a lot more interesting. Regardless of Catalina’s obvious disapproval of me it was all hands-on deck for the counterfeit production of IDs. Werewolves couldn’t remain in public without IDs exemplifying that they are werewolves, which is an obvious problem as it literally makes us targets to werewolf hate groups. The counterfeit items helped keep werewolf identities secret, of course not without a price, and the Wasohá pack made great profit from it. We were doing this for a few years, before the FBI was tipped on our productions and ransacked us blind. We weren’t prepared for their onslaughts and the process we lost a lot of guys to the jail bars that day… A lot crazy shit happened man, Gadiel was arrested, and Catalina was left as pack Miko… A problem for me. I knew it was only a matter of time, before that bitch would have a lot to say about me, so I did what my guts told me. It was time to run.
Before I got the boot, I already had an ID, license, and birth certificate made for my eventual departure. When it was time, I had little hesitation in taking off, especially being escorted out didn’t make anything better. Catalina disclosed that I was being kicked out of the pack for contributing in the infidelity with her mate, Gadiel. Of course, fuck me right, the pack went ahead with her decision in kicking me out, so on my way out I cursed that damn pack. Fuck them. Fuck her. I tried to hold my case, but what could I say to defend myself that would change their hearts. I already wasn’t liked by many, so it was a no brainer that they would see to my leave. Despite the hardships they were already going through.
Ever since then, I returned to the streets underneath the false name of Laia Vendoza, 25 years old, with birth records coming from Huston, Texas. For three years, I’ve been employed with Beauté Exotique, which is a strip club in the French Quarter, I go by ‘Darling’ over there. I returned to dancing because that’s all I know and going to school is much of an option, when you don’t have the money to do so. I was on my own for a minute, but one night I was walking home from work, when I was struck by a familiar scent. I smelled her before I saw her across the street looking directly at me, though I couldn’t see her face, but I knew that I knew her. She started to walk away, but I was determined to get to her and when I grabbed her by the shoulder to that it was my sister. I can tell you that wasn’t a reunion I was expecting, not ever, because I thought that my entire family was dead. Instead, I learned they were turned into the very thing I was. Werewolves.
My sister led me to my four sisters and my mother leaving in an apartment together all this time and I just now found out… Since then, I’ve been with them, relearning the family I once had…