Bad Blood: Under the Harvest Moon


 

 

I was a happy hippie. Sitting on the edge of the world, with nothing to hold me back. Drowning away my sorrows in the smoke of liberty. Dancing to the beat of my own drums, while singing with the winds.

Until I was bitten one glorious night; on the edge of reason now.

A fire stormed through my veins, burning my entire body,-the venom spreading like wildfire, consuming my mind.

I knew I was dead now, like very third degree burnt victim. The only reasonable thing left to do was to wait…

After the fire died.

After the flames that kissed the air dance their last across my form.

After the piercing screams died.

After my very being was racked of its life.

After I drew my last human breath.

After my eyes were closed and I bled out where the savage beast tore through my flesh.

 

Let the pain of a thousand souls devour me. Then I will learn the true meaning of submission.

 

I watched with wet eyes, in the mirror as my figure broke at the spine – schooling itself to yield once again as every bone splintered and cracked to life under the delicate skin. Muscles twitched, flexed and reshaped. The screams followed suit and my frame was flooded in sweat.

I concentrated on myself in that floor length, studio mirror as I took on unnatural shapes, determined to control the beast breaking free. I was deeply fascinated by how the bones broke to rearrange themselves under the skin and how they never seem to cut right through the tissue as they should.

I was adamant to have that kind of intricate power. But first I will let out my final howl of tortured pain as a tribute of my docility, to the breath I once took as a fragile human and to welcome the new spirit I will appreciate at this moment..a Lycan.

Here lies the beast with glowing eyes and its thirst for blood will be the beginning of mankind’s suffering.

 

Lycanthropy: Le Loupgarou

 

By: Bloody I.V.

 

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