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Flight.

You make to follow, but as soon as she turns around the corner on the stairs you reverse direction and run for the door. The fact that your altered legs are letting you flee faster than normal is but a minor footnote in your mind. Reaching your vehicle, you realize that being naked you no longer have your keys on you. From inside the castle you hear a loud shriek. You don't know if it is from your mate- THAT SHE-CREATURE (you quickly correct your mind) or someone else, but it only encourages you to run away from the castle on foot.

You make your way down the hillside on the road when the fear in your mind starts to urge your body to faster and faster. None of this is making sense to you. Werewolves aren't real. They can't be! It's like alien abductions, Santa Claus, or female orgasms. You'd think something like that would had been discovered and made widely known by now. Besides, most of the werewolf stories you knew always had the victim have to wait a month before changing. It shouldn't be instantaneous. This has to be a dream. Right?

At that moment you look around and realize that you hadn't been paying attention to what you were doing. You are no longer on the road. You had been leaping around the tall leafless trees amidst the forest. In fact, you had been running with a lope on all fours.

The shock causes you to stumble and fall. Your head is whacked against a small half-buried rock, and pain erupts through your skull. You growl in growing fury. To vent your frustrations you swat your hand at the rock. Your claws dig cleanly through the hard dirt and send the rock flying through the air. It hits a tree nearby where you see a man dressed in local village garb staring at you in horror. He drops the bundle of wood he was carrying and runs away. Even from here you smell his sweat. His meat. Your stomach growls louder than you had.

The prey runs.

The food runs.

There is no thought. There is only instinct. You chase. You remember little beyond that it is a good hunt.

__________________

As the morning light breaks upon you, your eyes open. You're in what looks to be a rustic-style bedroom... sorta like a bed 'n breakfast. However the European flare is there. You must be in a nearby town; just not your hotel room. Scratching your head, you don't remember getting here. So much of last night is a fog. Only when you sit up do you realize that you were sleeping nude on top of the sheets and the door to the room is open. In the hallway, you see a bloody arm detached from anything else. Blood has long since pooled and stained the hallway floor.


Written by A Nonymous

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