this was always the worst part. for years, katia had grown to deal with the increased lunacy the week of an impending full moon, grown to deal with the ravaging and wrathful blood lust, but what she never got used to; what one could never really be accustomed to, was the realignment of every bone, reconfiguration of each and every molecule, going from human to wolf. she knows that such a transformation has sparked interest and legends abound, but she, of course, is no fool. she does not make her monthly indiscretions known to the masses, does not make her kills obvious, and never wastes a morsel of meat. at her most basic nature, she is quite animalistic, though this means not that she is without premeditation, cunning, and intelligence. she knows better than to be sloppy.
and so, as the moon gradually reaches its apex - filling the sky with a radiant, sinister glow, the rumancek beast stands in the center of her favored place. her clothing begins to fall from her lithe form, and a light breeze pricks at her skin, brushes at her locks. swallowing hard, she watches as fur arises upon the flesh of her arms. however, she does not fight against it; finding such an act less painful than any alternative. she recalls as a child, the adolescent confusion she felt with every shift, and that urge to resist — only furthering her agony. now, she allows the process to wash over her, and in some ways, despite the tearing of flesh, despite the cracking of bone, despite the tears stinging in her eyes, this made her feel whole; made her feel as though something was no longer missing in her; that she was truly herself. in a manner, she is not wrong.
a yelp turns suddenly into a vehement rumbling deep within the woman’s throat as her form drops to the leafy ground, hands and feet essentially sloughing off to produce her forceful set of paws. panting and seething as she rolls amongst the dirt, human skin no longer wearable, and other various foliage, she feels the moon’s hold growing ever more vehement upon her with each passing moment — and soon, she sits upon her haunches. her head cranes back, true visage facing the very thing which captivates her the most. then, a blood-curdling howl comes; and it pierces the air - igniting that legend’s flame once again. she can practically hear the villagers now.
who will die next ?
will the beast come closer ?
who will slay it ?
for a moment, she remains in the spot - before a familiar voice catches her ear. part of her, the part cursed with rational thought, tells her to run in the opposing direction, to hunt down some no good peasant that no one will miss, eat him as she had her human hide moments ago, but the part driven by primal instinct seems to win her over and claws dig into the dirt, propelling her forward in a sprint. the female monstrosity ceases, however, when she comes within ten feet of juliet. the blonde is a welcomed, familiar face though the boy she is with is not. the way he stands with her, the way she clings to him out of fright makes her desire regurgitation. a wrath unstable finds its way inside her, creeps inside her bones and soul and is truly an unsettling force. teeth flash white amongst the dark, and how big they are !!! one leap, she thinks, and this boy could be dead. but would such a hasty move be wise ? gods, no.
a step.
a growl.
a step.
a growl.
a beat.
a chomping of maws ready to strike.
poor juliet, sweet little flower. close your eyes.
The princess could feel her pulse raising & her heart beating loudly
inside her chest --- FEAR written all over her face. Maybe this had
been a bad idea. Maybe those stories weren’t false. Maybe monsters
did exist. So stupid. She should have never come here.
& then another growl --- & now steps too.
They were going to D I E. Never in her life had the blonde feared death
as much & right now all she could do was silently pray that maybe the beast
that was not showing itself yet, was not hungry ---- that maybe it would leave again.
The girl grabbed the boys arm & just trying to get ahold of something. If she was
going to die, at least not alone ‘’ Do something.’’ She said, her voice barely a
whisper. ‘’ Don’t you have like a sword or a knife or anything?’’ ---- weren’t men the
ones that swore to protect the women? He was not even close to being a man
but that really didn’t matter in that situation.
Juliet was ready to face this fate. To stand there and have the beatst get it over
it ---- to D I E. But that boy obviously wasn’t. He ripped his arm out of her grasp &
started taking a few quick steps back, almost as if he was about to run & leave her
all alone.
