Of wolves and men


The call of the pack, the howl in the dark of a cold winter night impossible to resist. The moon, bright in the crisp air summoning up the animal essence within, the bestial urges driving the transformation as a snarl escapes his lips. Clench teeth try to hold back the sound building in his throat, fighting to retain some last vestige of control even as his mind surrenders to the beguiling compulsion. The blood, hot in his veins pours adrenalin through his system overloading the last resisting neurons as the change happens faster and faster.

Eyes, once blue, now yellowed, bloodshot, bulging as the strain of the change, the pain of the process drives him to his knees. Back arched, joints dislocating, limbs stretching, changing, morphing as the scream of pain is torn from his throat. Surrendering as he throws his head back, the scream becoming a wail, joining the howl, one with the pack at last…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s