For the most part, humans were oblivious. There was the occasion one that caught on, thus spawned the legends of terrible beasts that fed upon mankind. But as time progressed and civilization boomed the myths of old faded away. As did the thoughts and warnings of the other creatures. No one remembers the date or even the year it happened. But it seemed mankind would have done well to heed those myths and legends. Werewolves and vampires were very much real. What the humans didn’t know was the struggle between these ancient adversaries. Humans were naïve and oblivious to the thousands of years of war that took place between the vampires and werewolves. All the subtle skirmishes led up to one grand event. Humans were like a tree caught up in the fury of a tornado. The sudden war burst out like a dam failing to hold back a raging flood. Blood filled the streets, so many died, on all sides. The humans couldn’t even imagine how to combat this threat, creatures whom seemed to be nearly immune to most forms of modern weaponry. Mankind was nearly snuffed out. The war between the two superior races left the lands in ruins. Whole cities were left abandoned and in ruins. Buildings crumbling because of attacks and time. Flora of the land seeking to wrap it’s tendrils around what was left and take it back into the earth. Vampires seemed to like the cold and less sunny weather and took control of the northern lands. Werewolves favored sun and didn’t mind the warm weather thus took control of the southern lands. Humans took up refuge wherever they could, often never staying in one place as they moved about the borderlands. Because for most humans, a vampire or werewolf wouldn’t hesitate to kill them. Be it for sport or food. But not all books read the same way. There was the occasional wolf or vampire that really didn’t pay much mind to the humans. Or the occasional one that found them interesting. The latter was what one such werewolf by the name of Max Moroue. A seemingly unimportant omega rogue with a fascinations for both humans, and trying to trespass into vampire territory. Hidden under the mess of blue jeans, dusty brown shirt and an old leather jacket was a man of 5’7” with a sturdy frame. His body was fit but not overly muscular. His face was thin but with strong masculine jaws, which only added to his charm when he smiled. His sandy brown hair was often a mess atop his head from which green eyes watched with often flirtatious curiosity. What skin was visible was tan like a man who spent much time out side. Since most werewolves and or vampires traveled together, the humans usually didn’t give too much thought of the lone Max when he approached their caravans. Never did he pose more of a threat than wooing the young women and he often brought them items to trade with. He gave them a wave as he left them behind, ignoring as he always did about their warnings to stay away from vampire territory. But Max was either stubborn or stupid. Whichever it was, wasn’t overly clear. Max walked on, his keen smell taking in all around him. Trying to be aware of the derelict town he was walking into. Trees and plants of all kinds over grew everything. Old automobile skeletons rusting away as plants grew from its remains. But it wasn’t the scenic view Max was cautious about. This was vampire territory, a long abandoned check point that he hoped they no longer used. For all his brash nature with woman, Max’s belly was quite yellow. But something drove him to repeatedly trespass into the territory. He gripped the satchel slung around his chest and back a bit tighter as he looked around. His keen hearing listening for anything that could pose a threat. His eyes lifted to the failing light and he swallowed a bit harshly. Night was when they were most active. He sighed and moved to travel through the broken old buildings. He’d not be caught out in the open and he’s not be caught sleeping. He’d done this before and knew it was best to keep moving during the night. And huddle down to sleep during the day.