Face The Moon
yeah.. sorry guys, haha. this is an orginal story. sorry if it gets a be gory/gross, but i'm not writing it, only letting it out of its cage x3. anyways, the picture says " if you would not be forgotten, as soon as you are dead and rotten, either write things worth reading or do things worth the writing " - Benjamin Franklin
The Beginning of the End
It had been June 23rd, my birthday. My friends and I had been drinking alcohol. I ended up losing my friends, but I thought nothing of it, striking up a conversation with a cute guy nearby. I don't remember the conversation, but I rememeber a frantic makeout session as I fumbled to open my door.
We had stumbled inside, never once breaking the kiss. He kicked the door closed and I pointed him to my room, wrapping my legs around his waist as I did so. He staggered in the general direction.
I fumbled with his shirt, shoving my hands under the cotton. I felt his stomach muscles clench. I unwound my legs, ripping his shirt off. He reciporcated.
Soon, I found myself against the wall, in my underwear. He still had his boxers on, and his lips had slid to my neck. I tugged on the waistband of his boxers in demand. He shuddered against me. My head fell back and I moaned.
I felt a prick, then I was orgasming intensly. I gasped and shuddered, clawing at his shoulders. I felt him smile against my neck. Then I realized.
He still had his boxers on, his hands clutched at my waist. His teeth were in my skin. I tried to let out a horrified scream, but it came out a plea for more. I wanted to run, to hide, but I could only stand there, gripping him for balance as I orgasmed over and over.
I felt him shudder once, twice as he dragged me closer, but I could only gasp. Eventually, the pleasure stopped and my vision went blank. I slid down the wall.
The next morning, I was different. Not in the I-was-just-assaulted-by-something-and-I-loved-it different, but I was different. I tried to look around, but I could only see flashes of red and blue. I shook my head. Again, only red and blue. Wait, there was a flash of green. That red splotch changed to green.
I blinked furiously, but my vision did not change. I clambered to my feet, afraid I had damaged my vision. Something was wrong. I was lower than usual. I had four points touching the floor.
I gulped, suddenly afraid to look down. I scolded myself, took a small inhale and looked down.
Fur. Paws. Claws.
I scrambled away, and the furred legs pushed away from the floor with me. I screamed, and it came out a howl. I stopped instantly.
Terrified out of my mind, I walked to my floor-length mirror. I looked at myself.
I saw a wolf. There was no me, only the canine. I scrambled away and screamed again. More accurately, I howled again.
This was not possible. It couldn't be. I was dreaming. That was it, I was dreaming. In a few moments here, I would wake up in my bed, drenched in sweat. It was just a dream.
Only it wasn't.
Over the years, I had learned the ropes of my...condition. I had only transformed into a full wolf once or twice since the intial. Such a transformation required extreme emotion combined with the moon-rage.
Most times, however, I transformed into a monster. A wolf, standing like a man, mind of a wolf. In those times, which happened during intense emotion, or the moon-rage, I traveled very, very far before I transformed. I was not me during those times; I was a ravening monster, with unsatiable bloodlust.
Besides the moon-rage and the increasingly rare emotion transformations, I was mostly human. I stood, walked, talked, and thinked in human terms. But somewhere, sometimes deep inside, sometimes right below the surface, the wolf prowled.
The wolf was what called the humans to me. Instincts tried to warn them off, but like all civilized things, they were attracted to wild, untame creatures. That was, and is, their ultimate demise.
I live a life of monstrosities. I steal, and I hunt. When I hunt, I do it differently. I do not simply feed and infect, like the bastard who had turned me into the monster I was. No, I held out for as long as I could, then I picked the worst of criminals, seducing them and draining them before I treked them off deep into the woods. They were criminals, so nobody came looking.
I felt like I was giving back to the community who I so often stole from them. I stole clothes,and in return I took out a monster like me, only in human terms.
I sat in a big oak tree, staring at nothing, yet seeing everything. That was the wolf. It was always on alert, always looking for something to kill, always looking for something that might harm it. I admit, it was a useful thing - nothing went undected by me - but it grew tiring sometimes.
Something caught the wolf's attention. I immediately turned my head and focused; something that had caught the wolf's attention deserved attention. It was a man, extremely tall and looking shady.
He looked both ways, obviously hiding something, before he slipped down an alleyway. I hopped off my tree, landing in a crouch. I straightened and followed.
The wolf was alert, pacing in my mind. It was letting out a continual growl I could hear. I could feel it sink into a crouch and froze instantly.
For some reason unknown to me, I let the wolf in. I felt it stretch throughout my body, but I didn't change. The wolf moved my body forward. I stayed silent, in the back, letting the wolf do the work.
My body crept forward with amazing dexerity in complete silence. Soon, I could see the man, facing the wall and muttering to himself.
The wolf coiled, and I tried to stop myself, exploding forward in my mind. It was too late. I leapt on the man, the growl escaping me sounding nothing like a human could make. The man bounded sideways, sinking into a slight crouching position. His hands filled with a swirling blue substance.
The wolf snarled, and it came out of my mouth. The man looked shocked for a moment, then scowled. He threw the blue stuff at me.
I screamed at myself to back away, to dodge, to run. Naturally, the wolf resisted. My jaw formed into that of a wolf's, snapping at the blue stuff, ripping it out of the air. It dissolved at the contact.
Now the man looked really shocked now. I had to say, I was in his boat. Or, rather, a boat of my own, since the blue stuff was just too strange to me.
The man straightened, throwing a salute with his right hand, though his left still contained the roiling ball of blue. Only I noticed the salute; the wolf was focused entirely on his left hand, snarling viciously.
The man took the hint, distinguishing the blue stuff. Smart man. The wolf was about to leap, I could feel it. The man backed up, putting both his hands up in a signal of peace. The wolf understood that, and backed up one step, letting my jaw change back to normal.
I wanted to cry at the sudden ache of my jaw. Guess I wasn't used to one-part changes like that. I wanted to be apart of this...situation, whatever it was, but the wolf snarled gently at me, shoving me backwards.
I huffed in my mind. Arrogant mutt. This was my body, thank you very much. I think I deserved to control it.
I could almost hear the wolf chortling.
The man said something. The wolf seemed to understand, but I just stared blankly. Excuse you. What did you just say?
Naturally, there was no response. Of course, I was locked in my mind, unable to do a single thing.
The wolf made my body step forward. I resisted. Haha, no. I wasn't going anywhere until I realized what that guy just said. The wolf growled and forced me forward.
The man grabbed my arm. The wolf tolerated it. Great. Several years wanting to be touched, but not being able to because the wolf hated it. Now, when I didn't want to be touched, the wolf thoguht it was okay. Hypocrite.
I think I might've puked a little when the world whipped around me. Figuratively, of course. I wasn't in control of my stomach. There were flashes of blue and purple and green. We were spinning. Incredibly fast, too.
The world suddenly stopped and I looked around...
Woo! this one's original. promise I'm not stopping this one this time. I got great plans for it. love you all!
" there is nothing to writing. all you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed " - Ernest Hemingway