the full moon always proved to be difficult for jean â as soon as the sun began to sink behind the swaying tree line behind his home, his skin began to crawl ⊠pricks of pain erupting from the follicles that line his arms and the back of his neck, spreading slowly at first ( warning him of what was to come ) and then like a tidal wave it washes over him;debilitating as it crawls up thick arms, settling alongside his neck, the ghost of a hollowed throat emanating a pain heâd first experienced two centuries ago in a quiet, french forrest nestled against a peaceful mountainside â gĂ©vaudan, his true home.
he makes haste in hiding himself away in the crematorium heâd built to satisfy the objective of his clients & his own. in the farthest corner, hidden in the shadows of a darkened room, is a steel door that hangs precariously on rusting hinges. ( jean makes a point to note that in his thoughts, tucking it away for another time â when he has more time â praying it will hold for just one more night. ) itâs behind that door that keeps his facade alive; the restraintsthat keep the sleepy, american town away from the horrors of what heâs capable of ⊠the horrors that gĂ©vaudan still cling to â retellings of his story keeping mischievous children in bed at night and driving fear into the hearts of nocturnal hunters.
the chains are coated in a thin layer of his own blood, at times the thrashing becoming soviolent it rips through the layers of skin beneath a thick, black coat. without hesitation he chains himself to the wall, knowing itâs the only way to keep himself from hunting down theunlucky humans that still wander the streets after sundown. his head falls back against the wall, eyes falling shut as his jaw clenches â the pain piquing as the sun finally disappears below the earth and the moon lights the sky, a sliver of the pale orbâs glow creeping througha crack in the curtains on the far side of the room.
itâs like a fire burning beneath his flesh, the flames lapping viciously against his bones, melting his muscles and melding them into something else entirely. the curse is felt against his throat, eyes blowing wide as his lips part to emit a howl of pain. with a shallow breath, his back arches against the wall and neck cranes, writhing in an attempt to fight back the feverthat erupts along pale skin. thereâs always a moment of clarity, a brief second where he reminds himself that he cannot fight this .. and perhaps he should welcome it, but it quickly dies and is replaced with a torturous scream â the cracking of bone and squelch of skin ripping from itâs place consumes every inch of his thoughts.
on instinct, his body moves onto hands and knees, assuming the only position his frantic thoughts can muster, head dipped low between thick arms and forehead grazing against a dirty floor. with each violent lurch of his body, another limb snaps and twists into position, splinters of collagen breaking through and tearing away his human skin. managing a glimpse down at his tightly fisted hands, jean watches as knuckles split and part, making way for massive paws in their place â onyx hued claws break through, catching a ray of moonlight and glimmer with the streams of blood that drip down his forearms, mingling with old stains that litter the concrete beneath him. his groans are strangled, grunts turning to growls and snarls as his lips peel back to make way for the fangs that split through his gums; hominal ivories dropping to the floor, clattering alongside the bloody strips of skin that fall from his chest and neck. the collar around his throat begins to tighten as his back begins to split, opening up to make way for his true form, his torso bent over and writhing as it doubles in size â ribcage shifting and cracking as it breaks through. as the skin peels away, the warm air that circulates through the crematorium becomes stifling as flesh is replaced with a thick layer of fur â black as night, shimmering in even the lowest light.
he has shifted with the moon thousands of times; a monthly ritual he effortlessly completes, though the anguish it elicits never comes with ease. some nights he can feel his instinctsbreak through more than others ( the scent of his neighbours, as far as a mile away, drifting through the smallest cracks in the aging building. ) his heart races, slamming against a newly designed chest, pumping the curse quicker through his veins. a guttural howl bellows from the pit of his lungs, racing up his throat and escaping through bloody jowls â sharpened canines baring and snapping at nothing, lashing out at the spasms that echo through his form. the wolf shudders as the tendrils of pain begin to subside, shaking out the remnants of flesh and scattering them against the walls, a grisly surprise heâd leave for tomorrow.
a massive head dips against the ground, tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at the bloody mess on the floor, straining slightly against the tight chains that binds him to the wall as he devours the shedded skin â relishing the warmth and how it glides down the back of his throat, satiating a fraction of the hunger that becomes more and more prominent with each moment he spends in this form. tonight he is able to reel in the bloodlust that creeps in from the corners of his mind â eternally thankful for that as loire is home ( he can smell him and the faint scent of his dinner simmering on the stove. ) thereâs another essence, though, an unfamiliar stench that he canât ignore; it only grows stronger as he lifts his head to sniff the air, curious as to why anyone would roam his property at this time of night.
his question is answered within minutes, the creak of the crematoryâs door sounds through the small space and the shuffle of boot clad feet follows â that same smell filling his senses, making it clear that the intruder was just beyond the second door. jean canât help the growl that rumbles in his chest, canines peeling back black lips and body lurching forward oninstinct. the man makes a grave mistake, deft hands pulling back the steel door upon finding nothing of interest in the main room; a bright light is the first thing that he catches sight of, scanning over the the room, yet somehow stopping before it reaches the darkest pointwhere the wolf lingers. he withholds the second guttural sound, shifting slightly in anticipation â chains clatter against concrete, spooking the man and forcing him around, the bright beam settling on him.
a strangled scream is the only thing that is heard before jean lunges forward, massive paws coming down on his chest, bones cracking easily beneath his weight. somehow, he still manages to let out a harrowing wail, fear and pain mingling in the blood-curdling sounds â he continues to cry out, pleading and thrashing helplessly under him as jean stares down at him, luminescent eyes scanning the unfamiliar face. he lets the man scream, his heart pumping adrenaline through engorged veins, carotid thumping deliciously against the side of his throat. another moment passes, ears twisting backwards as the screeches become irksome ⊠until an imposing jowl clamps down on his neck, canines tearing effortlessly through muscle and bone â the screams shifting to laborious breathing, a gargling of sorts as the blood begins to spill, spewing from the wound with each hard thump of his heart.
incisors continue to rip ruthlessly through him until he can feel the shudder of death wrack through the strangerâs form, leaving him motionless beneath him. slowly he steps off his chest, nose nudging against the center of it to pinpoint the object of his desire before claws rake through fabric and flesh, tearing open his gut and parting his shattered ribcage. a bloodied muzzle burrows into the hole heâd hewn, widening the would to allow him better access to his heart â glands salivating with anticipation as his tongue laps at the organ.
far too fixated on the victim beneath him, jean doesnât realise that a familiar scent grows stronger, now mingling with the emanation of fear that surrounds him. it isnât until the sound of loireâs erratic heartbeat hums loudly, white-tipped ears turning outward on impulse to follow the sound, that he finally pulls his mouth from the cavernous space in his chest to look towards the shadowy figure in the doorway. it doesnât register with him who it is thatâs approached, just that heâs known to jeanâs human form and means no harm. a low growl sounds, spurred by an instinctual thought that heâll approach and attempt to tear him away from his meal. canines bare, the wolf silently snarling at the other before returning to the man at his feet to continue his work on the intruder.
finally freeing the heart from his chest, his impressive jaws easily grind down the bones he took alongside it as they chew graciously on the rubber-like muscle. satisfied with the adrenaline riddled organ as it slides down the back of his throat, he steps off the crumpled body. bright eyes locate loire in the darkness, upper lip rising as he snarls again, yet takes no action to move towards him. instead, the wolf moves to bite down on the carcassâs upper thigh, incisors sinking into the flesh before he begins to tug it further into the darkness, agrowl rumbling in his chest in warning to his neighbour. the squelch of blood and flesh being torn from bone filling the small room once more as he settles against the far corner, hiding from loireâs terror stricken gaze. when he does nothing to remove himself from the scene, jean raises his head once more, a threatening growl mingling with a harsh bark fills the silence, warning him â he could be next.
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