Andrew struggled for a moment with his decision, but realizing that there'd be another chance to become a werewolf if he desired, he headed for the door. He'd always been good at shooters like Doom and Halo, so he figured he'd be a natural at the human end of things. Andrew wasn't averse to a challenge, but he liked to work his way up to it, rather than jumping right into things. Joining the humans, he imagined, would be just like a shooter, only more immersive, and he'd have an edge.
He stepped out the door, amazed by the sunlight in his eyes, especially since the moon had been shining through the window of the house only moments before. He found himself in a run down town, with buildings scattered around in what seemed like a sparsely filled urban setting.
A heavily muscled man walked up to him, holding what looked like an AK47. "You must be the new guy," he said to Andrew, his voice gravelly like someone who'd smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for his entire life. "I'm Stetson."
"I'm Andrew," he replied, amazed by the realism.
"Andrews, huh? Well, I hope you can fucking shoot, because we've only got a few minutes until the next assault on our position," the man's face was grim, and if Andrew didn't know any better, he'd have believed this was more than a game. "You look a little lost," the man said, "You been briefed about what's going on here?"
"Uhh...kind of," Andrew said, "Something about werewolves?"
"Fucking-A right," the man said, "I'll give you the best goddamn briefing you'll ever get, and the only one you'll need." He bent over a long crate, pulling out a rifle identical to his own, tossing it to Andrew. "Semi automatic, and this bitch packs a punch." He tossed Andrew a couple clips for the gun. "Standard ammo, silver nitrate. Kills those fuckers dead, though some of them need more than a shot or two to drop 'em. When they charge at ya, they build up a lot of momentum.Just keep shootin; we got plenty of ammo. Even as they're dying, a slice from their claws or a nick from their fangs is enough to make you a monster."
"Yes, sir," Andrew said, getting into the military mindset the game obviously wanted him to have.
"Don't call me 'Sir'," the man growled, "I kill for a living. Stetson will do just fine."
"Alright," Andrew said, "When do we start?"
"Hang on," Stetson said, "I hate to have to give you this option, but the commander says we have to." He tossed a couple more clips to Andrew; these were transparent, and the rounds were visible through the casing. They weren't bullets, rather hypodermics.
"Reversionary rounds," Stetson spat, "Cures the werewolves in one shot...makes 'em human again. Upside to that is that it swells our numbers; we're always on the losing end of this equation. Soldiers are coming in slower and slower nowadays, and all those monsters have to do is hurt ya and you're one of them. You cure one, and in theory they're on our side. That's why we've got orders to give every soldier a couple clips. Problem is...some of them LIKE being monsters, and curing one of them never helps us. They might pretend to be on our side, but more often than not, they betray us to the monsters, all so they can join their furry friends again. I say fuck 'em. Do us all a favor and ignore that shit. Don't try to save 'em. Just save us, and what's left of this town."
Andrew nodded. He could hear movement just outside the walls that surrounded the encampment. "Why don't you just give up, meat?" came a taunting voice.
"That's how it always starts, every night, without fail," Stetson said, slamming a fresh clip into his weapon. "First they taunt, while they still can speak, then they rush our position. They're trying to get at the civilians behind our front line. You can't let them through, do you understand?"
"Yeah," Andrew said.
"Okay," Stetson told him, "Take the point position over there," he said, gesturing to a pile of sandbags almost directly in front of the main gate through the wall. It's only a minute or two to moonrise." Andrew looked around and found more soldiers emerging, both male and female, around a dozen, taking other strategic positions. In only moments, the most realistic video game he'd ever experienced was about to really kick into high gear.