By way of meme on introducing me in a novel –
Scott von Berg, of the Baltimore von Bergs (not those Nazis from Frankfurt), was a kind, generous, and thoughtful gentleman with a dark secret.
For years, the Maryland State Police and Wildlife Commission had been baffled by a string of brutal maulings in Cunningham Falls State Park. Most of the victims were of the animal variety, but occasionally the shredded remains of wayward campers would be discovered, only identifiable after extensive DNA testing.
Experts were on record stating that these attacks appeared to be the handiwork of an extraordinarily large grizzly bear, which was baffling, as they were not native to the area. Furthermore, the best woodsmen and trackers in the country were brought in on a seemingly regular basis, only to be stumped without fail, unable to find so much as a single paw print or scrap of fur.
A local amateur sleuth noticed that all of the incidents occurred when the moon was half-full, but he couldn’t find anything in the annals of animal behavior, and his research into occult rituals as a possible explanation broke his mind, leaving him in a permanent catatonic state.
If he were still capable of understanding speech, the shock of learning just how close he came to the truth might destroy him.
For Scott von Berg was not a normal man, nor was he entirely human. He was a legend, a myth. A thing that wasn’t supposed to exist outside of storybooks and medieval folklore.
Scott von Berg was a werebear.
And he just became the last of his kind.