Change

I could feel the change coming; I could hold it back for a while, but it would overtake me eventually. I had learned by now that it was inevitable. If the moon was full, the change would come.

I broke into a jog, darting between a scattering of people on the street, then into a run, looking for somewhere to hide; even an alleyway would suffice for now. I crashed into a group of young men on a night out, laughing and smelling like beer. They gave me a selection of odd looks - to be honest I probably looked terrible. I had watched myself change before, in the full-length mirror in my bedroom, and just before it happened I turned into an ashen-faced, sweaty mess. I looked just like a drug addict who needed a fix something chronic.

I mumbled a sorry and ran on, pulling my long, wild hair out of my eyes. My skin was itching now, meaning the change was almost upon me. If I didn't find somewhere soon I'd be changing right here, on the street.

Just as I thought it was too late I spotted just what I needed; a dark alley, filled with dumpsters and boxes. I darted down it, until the darkness and debris obscured me from anyone passing by. And I let go, I let the change come. It wasn't painful as such, just uncomfortable, a sort of stinging sensation all over as my body grew and contorted into the unmistakable form of a werewolf. There was a brief moment of pressure and pain as my clothes resisted, then were shredded, by my now hulking form. Thanks to its high elastic content my bra had somehow stayed intact - I laughed at the thought of a werewolf in a pink bra, but it came out as more of a snort. I pulled off the remaining rags of my clothes with my huge, clawed paws and stashed them behind a pile of pallets. I'd come back for them in the morning to see if I could salvage anything. I went through more clothes than the hulk.

I scanned the alley, the darkness no longer a problem; I could see perfectly at night. Nothing here but trash. I was hungry, I always was after the change. At first this had led to a few unfortunate incidents with local pets, but thankfully I had never killed a person. And, after many nights in a locked bedroom, chained to my bed, I had learned to control my wolfish tendencies.

Apart from the howling.

My teeth clicked in my powerful jaws; the urge to run and howl and hunt was immense. But I was stuck in this alleyway and it was my own fault for staying in the library too long and not keeping track of time. It was only when Mark shook me, panic in his eyes, that I realised it was already dusk. I'd left everything in the library, knowing Mark would take care of it, and ran for home. But it was too late, the moon was already up and that only meant one thing.

Now I had two choices: stay in the alley all night with only my hunger for company; or make a break for it and risk terrifying the locals. I peered around the dumpster - the street was quiet but not deserted. It was Friday night and this was a university city, there would be people drinking and partying well into the small hours. My stomach groaned and grumbled; it seemed waiting it out would not be an option. The hungrier I became, the harder it was to control the wild wolf in me.