Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2010 2:06:54 GMT -5
She could feel her breath coming harsh, in gasps that flooded her body with dizzying amounts of oxygen. She stumbled over a fallen log, her bare feet bluish in the cold of winter. Her jade eyes, now flecked with gold, couldn't really see anymore, which meant she was close. This far out, would she be alone? A wracking cough made her lean against a tree for a moment, red blood dirtying her pretty heaving mouth. The hand she lifted to wipe her chin was shaking. She was certainly not squeamish, but when she lifted her hand to view the blood in the vague silverblue light of the full moon, a familiar unconsciousness overtook her, and she fell to the damp, cold, loamy ground. The beautiful woman lay still for a moment, looking extremely out of place. She was barefoot, with a backpack and a labcoat, slacks and a nice shirt.
She was not, however, still for long. The wind rustled her long nut-brown hair, and the moonlight traced tattoos across her very delicate, pale skin...which seemed to be erupting in grey fur. The crackle and pop of bones was sickeningly loud and frequent, her profile elongating, arms broadening, hands misforming and reforming as paws. Her finely pointed ears grew into wolfish triangles, a tail bursting out of her slacks. It took a minute or two for the woman to become the beast, and still minutes more for the beast to wake up.
40 years. Some 40 odd years this had been happening. Sometimes she was conscious, sometimes not, but once a month, every month, for 40 years, she found herself alone and mad in the woods. Whether she was herself or the beast was always unclear. Sometimes she could remember what happened when she awoke, sometimes she couldn't. Her own mind was always there as a passenger, of that she thought she was sure...it was just like she was possessed with some horrible yearnings. Some drives about this other body that made her run and howl and scream and cry, to rip and tear, to use the senses that were easier to ignore in her human body. She would never admit it to herself, but in her were form was where Dr. Black truly felt alive.
Ears swiveled, picking up the tiny forest-sounds that the panicked woman who had only left a pack, her coat and some scraps of cloth behind hadn't noticed. She went down on all fours, sensitive nose drinking in that intoxicating smell of dirt and wolf and earth, paws and claws sinking indulgently into the ground that had abused human feet moments ago. A growl rumbled through her barrel chest, an affirmation of her new being, like the owner of a new car revving the engine. An ecstasy filled her, a moon-induced madness; she was Mr. Hyde, a beast, senseless but because she was completely filled with senses. Made of more primal things than other creatures could fathom. A howl exploded from the lupine jowls before she dashed forward, waking muscles that had been dormant for a month, filling new lungs with frigid night air.
It had begun.
She smelled the air again, and found a scent of something-- what?
She was not, however, still for long. The wind rustled her long nut-brown hair, and the moonlight traced tattoos across her very delicate, pale skin...which seemed to be erupting in grey fur. The crackle and pop of bones was sickeningly loud and frequent, her profile elongating, arms broadening, hands misforming and reforming as paws. Her finely pointed ears grew into wolfish triangles, a tail bursting out of her slacks. It took a minute or two for the woman to become the beast, and still minutes more for the beast to wake up.
40 years. Some 40 odd years this had been happening. Sometimes she was conscious, sometimes not, but once a month, every month, for 40 years, she found herself alone and mad in the woods. Whether she was herself or the beast was always unclear. Sometimes she could remember what happened when she awoke, sometimes she couldn't. Her own mind was always there as a passenger, of that she thought she was sure...it was just like she was possessed with some horrible yearnings. Some drives about this other body that made her run and howl and scream and cry, to rip and tear, to use the senses that were easier to ignore in her human body. She would never admit it to herself, but in her were form was where Dr. Black truly felt alive.
Ears swiveled, picking up the tiny forest-sounds that the panicked woman who had only left a pack, her coat and some scraps of cloth behind hadn't noticed. She went down on all fours, sensitive nose drinking in that intoxicating smell of dirt and wolf and earth, paws and claws sinking indulgently into the ground that had abused human feet moments ago. A growl rumbled through her barrel chest, an affirmation of her new being, like the owner of a new car revving the engine. An ecstasy filled her, a moon-induced madness; she was Mr. Hyde, a beast, senseless but because she was completely filled with senses. Made of more primal things than other creatures could fathom. A howl exploded from the lupine jowls before she dashed forward, waking muscles that had been dormant for a month, filling new lungs with frigid night air.
It had begun.
She smelled the air again, and found a scent of something-- what?