Chapter Three

There's a reason monsters hide under the bed...

We're more scared of you, than you are of us.

                                                                                                                                                             

The first impression of werewolves were big, tall, scrawny, half-man half-wolf beings covered in fur that looked like an old man losing his hair, who had absolutely no control of their "other self". Now-a-days it's legit wolves the size of an adult grizzly bear. Honestly, I look a lot more like today's version of the werewolves. When I changed the first time, I caught a good look of myself in an empty store's window. I'm four and a half feet tall at the shoulder, have the mixed looks of a wolf and a honey badger (wolf structure, shorter tail like a badger, and a stalkier build), but every part of my eyes screams human. My eyes don't change when the rest of my body does.

It's great, the feeling of running. Free to roam where ever I want to go without my dad's tight hold on my "leash" yanking me back to "safety". My paws- still really weird to say, let alone think about- pounding the ground as I run out my pent up energy, putting it to good use. If I hadn't had as much self control as I did now, I'd be out stalking people throughout the night. Killing them. Just thinking about killing someone sends shivers down my back, along with memories attacking my thoughts and corrupting my very dreams.

The good part about putting my energy to good use is the fact that most of the people out this late at night are most likely no good corner w****s, druggies or gangsters. Or a mix of all three. Nothing I really wanna put in my system. I don't know where they've been. 

The bad part, there was only so far that I could run. I'd run out of space to run sooner or later. Just hopefully for the sake of my secret and the people living in downtown Los Angeles, I'd continue to find places to run off to.

                                                                                                                      

January 31st, 2012.

The first time I blacked out after I shifted back into my human self.

                                                                                                                      

Pain.

All I feel as I shift forms.

Can't get enough of it.

                                                                                                                      

Filthy, matted fur- I mean, hair. Dirt covering every inch of my naked body, blood on my hands and all around my mouth. Still the lingering taste of raw meat and fresh blood stings my taste buds, threatening to cause me to puke up whatever and everything I had eaten while shifted. For the first time since I started shifting, I couldn't remember what I did. Was this going to be a normal thing now? Forgetting my memories as a wolf?

Searching my surroundings, I can at least recognize where I am. Right in my backyard. How in the hell did I manage to get away with running rampid through the neighborhood! 

How could I have been so stupid?!

Letting myself in my backdoor, I wince when it creaks as it shuts behind me. I jerk the cooking apron off of the back of the door, slightly ripping the neck loop in the process. I prance up the stairs to my room without making too much noise, locking my door and darting to my bathroom quickly as if someone still might see. My thoughts scatter while I clean myself up with a washcloth, running my hand over my face with a groan. Sore, all over.

Once cleaned, I tugged on my too-big-for-me Denver Broncos jersey, slipped on some undies and crawled into my cold-covered bed. Curling up to get the sheets warm, trying to forget about who's or what's blood had been on my hands and mouth, and slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

                                                                                                                                                             

It's difficult.

Trying to maintain two separate lives at once.

                                                                                                                                                             

Author's Note

Whataya think guys? :)

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like this chapter. I like the run through L.A and her thought on killing the night people in the city. A interesting story. A strong ending to a excellent chapter.
Coyote