It is the year 2008, and thanks to continued success, and relatively cost-effective budgets, reality television is still quite prevalent on tv. But, as more and more networks create reality-based shows, ideas are stretched thin, and it becomes harder to hook viewers.
What was cutting-edge in 2005 is no longer even innovative. Worse yet, what passed for a grand prize in 2005 for the winner is barely recognized as an award. Each season, the risk of injury on shows like "Survivor" are increased, as are the monetary rewards.
It was in the summer of 2008 that Fox network executives were pitched an idea from a young executive, new to the company, but already becoming known for his innovative, yet ruthless ideas. His name: James Romulus. His idea: "Dark Village", presented in a darkened boardroom in June.
It sounded at first, almost like a joke to the board. Take six people, aged 21-40, three male and three female, from all walks of life. Drop them into a small town, one that was concealed in Montana, far from any real major town. Give them a decently sized house, but no phones or television, or even computer access. The winner (or winners) would get a 3 million at the end of six months. Anyone could leave at any time. Theoretically, it would be in the best interests of any of the contestants to eliminate the others.
Of course, the rest of the board asked what the catch was; three million dollars was an insane sum of money as a prize, even in 2008. "It's quite simple," James Romulus replied, "We seed the town with werewolves, and early on in the game we make it clear-a werewolf cannot win the money. However, if all the contestants are eliminated, the town gets the 3 million."
There was considerable chuckling amongst the board members. "That's great," laughed a middle-aged board member, "But you're forgetting something; there's no such THING as werewolves!"
The face of James Romulus contorted in anger, "That's where you're wrong, Jerry. That's where you're DEAD wrong!" A throaty growl echoed from his mouth, and his lips curled in a snarl. "You thought us legend, MYTH!" His eyes flared yellow, luminous. "But..grr...we've been EVOLVING!" Spittle and foam flew from his mouth as he spoke, as his teeth became fangs. "No need for the moon any more! Grr...every NIGHT we CHANGE!" His suit began to rip as his muscles bulged. "Some change when...whenever...grraaahh..they WANT! Like...." He tore away his jacket and shirt, revealing a bulging chest, covered in black fur. He kicked away his shoes as his pants tore, revealing more fur and corded, bulging muscles. His hands and feet acquiring thick pads and long, taloned nails. "Like...like..." he began to struggle to speak as his face began to shift forward into a muzzle "ME!"
The bipedal wolfman took advantage of the confusion, and let loose with an orgy of bloodlust upon the other ten members of the board. In the end, he stood victorious, with ten bodies scattered around the room. Three of them were dead, including the unfortunate Larry, who simply made the mistake of not believing in what James Romulus had said. The other seven, four female, three male- were convulsing as their wounds slowly healed and the werewolf spirit (or virus, as some might call it) insinuated itself into every cell in their body, from brains to bowels.
A couple of them still clutched phones in their hands, office lines futilely used to call the receptionist, or secuirity. The light on her phone still blinking, the receptionist, Jennifer Carver, stood, a satisfied smile on her face. She walked to the double doors of the boardroom, withdrawing a key from her handbag to unlock the doors, which had kept the board prisoners in the massacre.
She crept into the room, resecuring the door behind her. She smiled broadly at the wolfman in the tattered rags that had once been an Armani suit. "All has gone according to plan, my alpha mate?" she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. The beast growled an answer, which she appeared to understand.
She pulled her hair out of the severe bun she'd kept it in, letting it cascade to the middle of her back. It was a raven-black color, matching the color of the wolfman. She tossed her glasses aside, never having really needed them at all.
With a fluid grace, she stalked to one of the shallowly-breathing survivors, kneeling down next to him. He was suffering from a gaping shoulder wound, which still trickled a small bit of blood. She smiled down at him in what would almost have passed for an angelic gaze. then, lowering her head to the wound, she began to lick at it hungrily, her eyes blazing yellow. For a moment, it seemed she would succumb to her vicious, bestial desires and transform, but instead she kept her human visage.
She went from human to human, licking their wounds, and with each lick, the wounds healed a bit more. Her mate die the same, quickening the process further, until all of them had healed completely, though they were all still unconscious.
Soon enough, James Romulus reverted to his human guise, smiling at his accomplice. "Well, love, I think we can get this project greenlighted no problem now."
She laughed and smiled, "Get changed into that suit you packed into your briefcase. You can't very well make a presentation dressed in tattered rags."
"Indeed not," he replied, grinning back at her.