A very, very short piece - a sort of a monologue of a werewolf resisting his change. |
Don’t stop. Hold on. Endure. Embrace the darkness... You’re still too close. Go on. Run. Don’t stop. Stop resisting. Release the beast... No! Not yet. I can still feel the city behind me. Stop fighting... Full of people. Give in, satisfy the hunger... No! People... I can hear the beat of their hearts. So I run... Fill the emptiness... Thousands and thousands of lifes. I smell... Blood. The pain throws me to my knees. I scream. Hands are shrinking, hair growing longer, each bone and every muscle shifting its shape. The pain is unbearable, but like a hundred times before I am forced to bear it. And as a hundred times before, I stop screaming. I howl. I’m not in control of my body, I don’t own the shell anymore. I’m a prisoner, a prisoner in a cell of damnation. But the prisoner’s consciousness is leaving. Falling to the darkness. And something is coming back, something... Different. I open my eyes. I sniff and I smell... A city, behind me. Full of life, full of people. I can hear the beat of their hearts. Thousands and thousands of lifes. I smell... Blood. So I run... |