It starts that morning, an indescribable itch beneath your skin.
You want to rip yourself apart - tear yourself free of your earthly bonds,
but there is no escape from the pull of the moonlight.
You feel the madness, a short temper and even shorter fuse.
You snap at anything that moves – a rabid animal jammed between the need for freedom
and the urge to kill.
Now, the moon settles high in the darkness which overtakes the sun,
illuminating the decaying leaves and bone white branches over which you stumble.
You feel its pull, the inexplicable need to release – to violently erupt.
The yearning gets worse, the craving for blood and the crunching of flesh.
The need is insatiable, tormenting all you do.
It pulses with the earth, each thrum sending a bolt of heat strait down your spine.
The higher the shining globe climbs into the air,
the harder it becomes to resist.
You battle the longing within, struggling against the iron grip upon your soul –
a fight you know you will lose.
It grows harder and
your humanity fainter with every passing second.
All living things become your target, their silhouettes illuminated
within the ruby filter masking your reflective hues.
You don't want to hurt people, but you will soon relinquish control to the beast within.
The moon reaches its peak and the battle is lost,
the shuddering you feel within your frame is not fear – it is the shift.
You transform, pulsing with the earth once more
as the moonlight soaks through your pores.
You welcome it now, the pain of resisting excruciating.
Your bones break.
Muscles and tendons rip, stretch, and recover.
You shrink, your spine bending and cracking in a succession of pops.
Tingles explode across what is left of your skin, soon replaced by coarse,
dark fur covering the entirety of your body,
now resting on four legs instead of two.
You throw your head back and release an ear shattering howl,
wanting them to hear you. To know that you are coming.
