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Diary of a Werewolf: The First Transformation

I still remember that first transformation. I had known for a while that I had been infected in some way by something, but I could not come to terms with it myself. It just seemed to me as tricks of my mind where it connected random incidents. I still remember that first transformation. How can I ever forget that! It all started with the moon.

I could feel something within my body growing, coming out to take over. The physical pain was excruciating. I had always had this way of dealing with pain where I would bite my finger or pinch myself hard enough to divert the attention of my mind from the existing pain somewhere else; but I did not know what to do here! I did not know which part of body was in pain or rather, which part was not. I could not feel anything else; throughout my body, every single inch of it; so much so that I could not breathe anymore. You can always tell how deep your wound is by the way it feels; I could not. It was like pain was the only thing that existed within me. I begged for it to stop, to whom did not matter, screaming, taking occasional breaths but nothing helped. I could feel my bones break one by one and I was in no state to count but I could tell it wasn’t just one. I was on all four of my limbs; I tried to lie down but I couldn’t move, except for the ways my body moved itself. I had lost count of time but it felt like eternity. I could feel my insides shift places, move within me and the broken bones moved under the skin, causing me a level of pain that I never knew existed. My jaws started to change shape and a redness covered my vision which slowly turned into black and that was the last of what I remember of the night.

I opened my eyes in the forest not far from where I live, under the shining sun which made it hard for me to lie there anymore and to figure out exactly where I was. It took me a few minutes to come to my senses completely and to even realise that I had nothing on me. I gathered some things, bits and pieces of a branch and leaves to cover myself and sneaked my way home. My whole body ached in a hollowness but I remembered nothing of the night.

Well that was only the first. It has happened so many times after that that I’ve lost count and become familiar with the pain. My body hasn’t yet gotten used to it; I don’t think it ever will. You can never get used to such torture. Atleast back then, this fear of transformation wasn’t there. The haunting has only been added to after my learning. The haunting, that it will happen again!

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Posted by on June 7, 2018 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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Diary of a werewolf: The Deaths

I was flung in the air as I pushed his body away with my legs and freed my claws from his chest. His claws left holes on either sides of my neck and I could feel myself weak from the bleeding from different parts of my body. My final vision was of a figure vanishing into the darkness of the woods but it wasn’t him I was worried about; it was me. I had been badly injured and my body had been pushing it till that moment when my foe was out of my sight. My eyes couldn’t stay open any longer and my body exhaled a final breath as I descended from the height of that hill into the water below. As my body hit the surface of the water, my body came to an almost halt but the descent continued. As I entered the water, I started to feel my wounds getting more painful. The deeper I sunk, the more pressure was exerted on my wounds and the more painful it became. My whole body was covered with wounds and consumed by exhaustion. I soon lost consciousness, even before reaching the bottom and I knew this was going to be the end.

I don’t know after how long or why or even how, but I woke up, gasping for air, suffering from pain which was unbearable, even for the beast. It felt like the water was piercing through every single wound I had on my body. The pain was piercing through my will to live. I tried, but I could not move; my limbs wouldn’t support me; my heart wouldn’t give up. I gasped for air and tried to move my limbs again but failed; again and again and finally gave up. It was futile to try. So I just lay there, waiting, gasping uselessly for breath till I died, which seemed better than the pain that I had to bear, better than the helplessness I had to bear.

But it wasn’t my time I guess, or maybe the beast wouldn’t give up, I woke up again, gasping for breath and yet again failing to breathe. I was wrong; this was worse than the pain. It felt like I was being denied the satisfaction of dying, over and over again. The same thing, again and again. I don’t know how many times it happened, I lost count nor was I in a state where I could keep count. What I remember is that it was painful, very painful, every single time, being denied the most basic need of even a monster, air. I remember my body settling for water instead of air before drowning every time. The darkness surrounded me and all I could feel was pain and Death. The pain is unimaginable when you see no escape, no relief, no hope. The pain is unimaginable when death comes to you over and over again. 

I must have died, because there is no other explanation for my body to have surfaced without being void of life. I woke up, again; this time, in my human form but I could recall the horror I had undergone. Even for a person as strong willed and with high tolerance as me, it was horrifying. I could swear I felt even the body of the beast shiver with pain. I felt it reaching me, the pain of the darkness and the death and the hopelessness and fear it caused the beast. It shivered before every death, fearing that it’ll wake up again and would have to undergo the same horror again. Chills ran through my spine as the visions came to me in flashes and I wrapped my arms around myself as I dragged myself towards home, thinking to myself that there was no way a man could’ve survived that. It was the beast who did that; coming back from the dead, fighting death and coming back to life, over and over again. But then again, a man only has to face death once, it was because of the cursed beast that I couldn’t even die in peace. It’s a curse after all.

 
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Posted by on November 29, 2017 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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Diary of a Werewolf

  She wasn’t scared! Her eyes, unlike the rest that I have seen, weren’t scared at all. They were wide, not with fright but with something else; astonishment, surprise maybe. I wish I could tell her how weak I was, so contradictory to what I had appeared to her since the first day she saw me, so contradictory to what I appear to everyone.

Of all the victims of mine, of all the people who had faced the uncontrollable fury of the beast that resided within me, she was the one who was never scared; not once had I noticed fear in her. How could it be?! How can one not be scared when she is pinned against the wall, almost choking; her throat in my hands, hands with power to crush it right in my fist! Maybe it was her ignorance. Maybe because she was unaware of the beast within me, maybe because she did not know me, the real me; but then again, fear is aroused by ignorance.

I am so sure she could tell that it wasn’t me; that I wasn’t me when she looked into my eyes when I held her against the wall, and yet she called out my name to stop me when I was walking away from her. How can she not be afraid of a murderer, it was evident from her eyes that she knew, she knew it now; that I wasn’t one of them; that I was a beast and not a human and that that it was uncontrollable.

She shouldn’t have known. She shouldn’t have seen what she did. She should have just remained away from me. But now, NO! it’s not possible, not anymore. I long for the warmth of love now, maybe it’s the beastly desires of the human within me and I cannot resist it anymore. I have to tell her how much she means to me, how fond I have grown of her, how I long for her. But…

I don’t know what to do!……..

 
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Posted by on January 8, 2013 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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