Wolfen!
I dread the rising of the full moon.
It drives me mad.
No, not mad... Not mad...
Insane!
The shiny floating ball of light that delivers so much misery.
Misery, and indescribable, excruciating pain. Torturous burning pain.
I loathe the full moon. I despise its power over me, the way its cold hoary light strikes the change in me. The way it makes my flesh crawl and blaze white hot with hellish fire.
I curse the full moon as I try to hide in cool shadows, shivering, weeping... hoping.
It won't happen this time...
Not this time...
Not this time...
Please God...
No use.
The bitter insufferable searing pain surges through my body.
In unimaginable agony I twist and turn and tear at my clothes and scream at the full moon as bones twist and crack, muscles rip, fingers curl, nails claw, spine curves, ears extend, gums bleed, teeth sharpen, nose and jaw and tongue draw out.
None should have to endure such a terrible hurt, such a torment.
None!
And when the pain subsides, I lay weak and panting, waiting for strength to slowly return.
And when it does... Oh, when it does.
I howl at the full moon and lope silently through a forest of tall trees bathed in silver moonlight.
The smell, ah, the sweet, sweet smell of pine wood and fresh green dewy grass.
The cool night wind gently strokes my face.
I am intoxicated. I am happy. Truly happy.
The full moon holds no terror for me now.
Suddenly, quite suddenly, I feel a hunger, a ravenous hunger.
I must eat. I must eat fresh meat and drink warm blood. For I am wolfen.
There is no choice.
I must survive!
Cunningly I stalk my prey. I catch my prey. I kill my prey.
The kill is mercifully swift.
After the kill I eat my fill and then… Sleep.
A deep, deep dreamless sleep.
‘Til the early morning sun rises, warming the damp earth and draping my naked and bloodied female form in a fine dewy mist.
I detest the sun!
I despise its power over me, the way its golden radiant light awakens me, and forces me to suffer a pain infinitely worse than the cruel, cursed pain of wolfen transformation.
A pain that cuts deep into my immortal human soul.
The insufferable pain of lucid memory.
Savage, unforgiving memory.
The relentless heart rending pain of unceasing remorse and tear filled pity for my luckless human prey.
The agony of knowing the full moon will rise once again.
I will change once again.
I cannot stop it!
I cannot stop it!
I cannot even take my own life.
Such is the curse of the wolfen.
Only one who truly loves me has the power to end my miserable, wretched existence.
With a single silver bullet!
And I swear, by all that is holy, if I could find someone;
if I could find just one who could love me enough.
I would take the silver bullet…
Gladly.
I dread the rising of the full moon.
It drives me mad.
No, not mad... Not mad...
Insane!
The shiny floating ball of light that delivers so much misery.
Misery, and indescribable, excruciating pain. Torturous burning pain.
I loathe the full moon. I despise its power over me, the way its cold hoary light strikes the change in me. The way it makes my flesh crawl and blaze white hot with hellish fire.
I curse the full moon as I try to hide in cool shadows, shivering, weeping... hoping.
It won't happen this time...
Not this time...
Not this time...
Please God...
No use.
The bitter insufferable searing pain surges through my body.
In unimaginable agony I twist and turn and tear at my clothes and scream at the full moon as bones twist and crack, muscles rip, fingers curl, nails claw, spine curves, ears extend, gums bleed, teeth sharpen, nose and jaw and tongue draw out.
None should have to endure such a terrible hurt, such a torment.
None!
And when the pain subsides, I lay weak and panting, waiting for strength to slowly return.
And when it does... Oh, when it does.
I howl at the full moon and lope silently through a forest of tall trees bathed in silver moonlight.The smell, ah, the sweet, sweet smell of pine wood and fresh green dewy grass.
The cool night wind gently strokes my face.
I am intoxicated. I am happy. Truly happy.
The full moon holds no terror for me now.
Suddenly, quite suddenly, I feel a hunger, a ravenous hunger.
I must eat. I must eat fresh meat and drink warm blood. For I am wolfen.
There is no choice.
I must survive!
Cunningly I stalk my prey. I catch my prey. I kill my prey.
The kill is mercifully swift.
After the kill I eat my fill and then… Sleep.
A deep, deep dreamless sleep.
‘Til the early morning sun rises, warming the damp earth and draping my naked and bloodied female form in a fine dewy mist.
I detest the sun!
I despise its power over me, the way its golden radiant light awakens me, and forces me to suffer a pain infinitely worse than the cruel, cursed pain of wolfen transformation.
A pain that cuts deep into my immortal human soul.
The insufferable pain of lucid memory.
Savage, unforgiving memory.
The relentless heart rending pain of unceasing remorse and tear filled pity for my luckless human prey.
The agony of knowing the full moon will rise once again.
I will change once again.
I cannot stop it!
I cannot stop it!
I cannot even take my own life.
Such is the curse of the wolfen.
Only one who truly loves me has the power to end my miserable, wretched existence.
With a single silver bullet!
And I swear, by all that is holy, if I could find someone;
if I could find just one who could love me enough.
I would take the silver bullet…
Gladly.
