The Hunger

The rain gashed down in a frenzy as she peered into the darkness. Lightning splashed across the sky and the thunder rolled in an angry growl. Her pale complexion intensified in the moonlight as it momentarily peered out from behind a cloud, and that is when it happened. Crying out from the sudden intrusion of the pain, she collapsed to her hands and knees, re-assuring her that the bite she received a mere few hours ago, was indeed what she feared, werewolf.

Ripping the fabric that caressed her milk white skin, she was bare for the entire world to see. Thick black fur began to grow, hands changed to massive paws, tail and muzzle growing, body organs changing shape to accompany her new form, and her ears, nose and eyes began to change as the senses that came with them intensified.

A hauntingly eerie howl soon echoed amongst the valley as she had taken her new shape, and with the completion of her new form came a strong hunger…

Awaking in the midst of a paddock and covered in blood, Natalie looked down in shock.

“Oh my god! What is this?” She began looking around frantically for a wound on her body, or perhaps someone nearby who may have been the owner of the redness stained upon her pale skin. Failing to find even the slightness of a graze, she stood up. Now realising that she was naked, she slunk along the shadows of a few trees that inhabited the area. Although she had regained her human form, her senses were still as strong as the wolf, and she could hear a startling scream. Making sure she wasn’t seen, she made her way in the direction of disturbance.

“My boy! My poor, poor boy!” Was the distressed call of a grieving mother who had found the remains of her one and only son. Arriving at the scene, but still managing to hide, instinct of the wolf you could say, she could see the remains of what looked to be an almost adult, teenager.

“Whatever cleaned him up did a pretty fantastic job.” She thought as his body was badly mangled, almost non-distinguishable as human. Looking around for something to cover her vulnerable body with, she snatched some clean laundry left on a cloths line nearby and put it on. She still had stained blood caked on her face and hands, but tried to not be seen as she just wanted to get home. But she was also afraid that it was she who killed that boy.

“Grr why can’t I remember any of last night? What did I do? What did I kill? Did I kill? Or was I a lowly scavenger, feeding from the kill of another?” She sighed in frustrating and moved a few strands of her starkly contrasting black hair away from her face.


Avoiding the stares of the many passengers on the train, she rushed to get out of the train at her stop and ran to her house. Rushing inside, she turned on the shower and got out of the ‘borrowed’ clothing, and into the steaming running water. Letting it cleanse her filthy body, she watched the blood run down the drain. Once clean, she got into some clothing that she deemed more comfortable, black, black and more black. Fastening the buckle of her belt, holding her black baggy jeans to her body, she slipped a simple black t-shirt on and grabbed her leather trenchcoat. Lacing up her steel-capped combat boots, she was preparing to go out to her favourite club, the Decapitated Serpent. Applying some heavy black eyeliner around her eyes, she grabbed her stuff and headed out.