W
Wizzie o' Oz
Guest
This is the first chapter.
The darkness clouding my vision crept away. I could see clearly again, think clearly again. I examined my hand with the unscrupulous eye of a nervous monster. I watched as my skin tugged on my fur and it retreated into my flesh. I was human again.
Cautiously, I looked skyward. The moon was lagging at the horizon, but the sun was beginning to chase it away.
I sighed in pure relief. The full moon inspires terror in me…makes my blood race…brings out the monster in me. I will never be able to describe how excruciatingly painful it is. To run into a secluded area—a forest or an isolated cottage, where no fragile humans can stumble across me and be killed with a single strike of my massive paw, to watch the sun sink beneath the gentle cut of the hills, and to wait for the moon to rise. To wait to transform into a loathsome, putrid, repulsive monster.
I inhaled deeply, my breath still ragged from the grueling night....
Running on all fours—with the intent of cold-blooded slaughter—exhausts and repulses me. Exhaustion rolled over me, beating me into submission like the relentless waves of a blackened sea. I staggered on my feet, completely incapacitated from the long night. I thought that—for once—I had kept myself under control…I thought that, for the first time since I’d been bitten, I’d kept my claws and fangs to myself during those crucial nighttime hours. The presumption of my effort pulled me under.
Literally. I spilled onto the forest floor and drew in the familiar fragrance of fallen green leaves. My eyes roamed into the blue sky above me as I struggled to keep them open. I feasted on the sight of it all—the azure framed by treetops, with a shy sun peeking through the gaps in the trees.
I fell asleep on the rough, uneven surface of the woods.
I woke up hours later, when the glorious sun was directly overhead. I felt like it was roasting me…its overwhelming heat seemed to stifle and suffocate me. I groaned and pushed myself onto my feet, where I yawned and stretched.
I felt wonderful. I thought I had made it through the night without killing anyone, I had had a good nap, and now—I was just happy to be human again.
The irony strikes me now. Just as I was relaxing and congratulating myself on my restraint, I saw…it. Her. My sister. Tessa. About fifteen yards away from me. Sprawled on the forest floor. Dead.
Her blonde hair swirled around her head, penetrated by a deep liquid red. Her eyes were closed, but I dragged myself over to her and pushed one of her eyelids up. It stared at me with a frozen green absence.
I could feel my lungs compressing and my heart racing. My body went rigid and my skin was plagued with goosebumps.
I turned around—and with great effort—I lifted my feet and ran out of the forest.
The darkness clouding my vision crept away. I could see clearly again, think clearly again. I examined my hand with the unscrupulous eye of a nervous monster. I watched as my skin tugged on my fur and it retreated into my flesh. I was human again.
Cautiously, I looked skyward. The moon was lagging at the horizon, but the sun was beginning to chase it away.
I sighed in pure relief. The full moon inspires terror in me…makes my blood race…brings out the monster in me. I will never be able to describe how excruciatingly painful it is. To run into a secluded area—a forest or an isolated cottage, where no fragile humans can stumble across me and be killed with a single strike of my massive paw, to watch the sun sink beneath the gentle cut of the hills, and to wait for the moon to rise. To wait to transform into a loathsome, putrid, repulsive monster.
I inhaled deeply, my breath still ragged from the grueling night....
Running on all fours—with the intent of cold-blooded slaughter—exhausts and repulses me. Exhaustion rolled over me, beating me into submission like the relentless waves of a blackened sea. I staggered on my feet, completely incapacitated from the long night. I thought that—for once—I had kept myself under control…I thought that, for the first time since I’d been bitten, I’d kept my claws and fangs to myself during those crucial nighttime hours. The presumption of my effort pulled me under.
Literally. I spilled onto the forest floor and drew in the familiar fragrance of fallen green leaves. My eyes roamed into the blue sky above me as I struggled to keep them open. I feasted on the sight of it all—the azure framed by treetops, with a shy sun peeking through the gaps in the trees.
I fell asleep on the rough, uneven surface of the woods.
I woke up hours later, when the glorious sun was directly overhead. I felt like it was roasting me…its overwhelming heat seemed to stifle and suffocate me. I groaned and pushed myself onto my feet, where I yawned and stretched.
I felt wonderful. I thought I had made it through the night without killing anyone, I had had a good nap, and now—I was just happy to be human again.
The irony strikes me now. Just as I was relaxing and congratulating myself on my restraint, I saw…it. Her. My sister. Tessa. About fifteen yards away from me. Sprawled on the forest floor. Dead.
Her blonde hair swirled around her head, penetrated by a deep liquid red. Her eyes were closed, but I dragged myself over to her and pushed one of her eyelids up. It stared at me with a frozen green absence.
I could feel my lungs compressing and my heart racing. My body went rigid and my skin was plagued with goosebumps.
I turned around—and with great effort—I lifted my feet and ran out of the forest.