A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Moonlight & a bad shape-shift | November 30, 2009

I felt a rush across my body as the night air hit my burning skin, and arched my back upwards, as far as it would go, gasping, as if taking in air for the first time.

Moonlight sears me.

Arms grabbed a hold of tightly. I knew those arms, the strength in them, the warmth from them, was almost nothing against the fever that was ravaging my body and burning me up from the inside out.

“Can you hear me sweetheart?”

My eyes rolled backwards and flickered back and forth. I was trying to focus on the voice. The sound of him. I was trying to see him. But my body was just not letting me.

It’s what happens when you’re in a loosing battle, fighting a shape-shift, you don’t want to happen.

“She’s gonna shift man.”

Another male voice said. It sounded familiar too, but I couldn’t be sure. Couldn’t be sure of anything when I was loosing control from within myself.

My temperature was only rising more. How long till I would be boiled in my own skin? Sweat poured off my body. And I began to feel the first stirrings of my skin moving. Preparing for the shape-shift.

If you were observing it, it would be like a shimmer of sorts across my skin with the quickness of the movement. That’s before the bones break and the muscles tear.

My shoulders rolled forward. I felt those strong arms lay me out on the front stoop of my house. I recognised the scent of the family home.

“Must have been the moonlight, look,” the second voice said again.

Not the voice of the person the arms belonged to, I knew that much. Not that I knew what was happening to me, how I came to be fighting a shape-shift, only my first instinct was to fight it, hope I could hold it at bay.

“It’s in prime position now.”

I groaned as my shoulders seemed to collapse. The snapping of bones breaking and re-aligning themselves, was deafening in my own ears.

A small sound not unlike a whimper came from my lips, I was loosing sight as my eyes continued to flutter, rolling back and forth.

I couldn’t stop it.

I thrashed about I caught up in some sort of soft material. My legs kicked out automatically.

A werewolf’s growl could be heard by me and them. My shape-shift had to be close to completely itself.

“You know, I don’t know your tribal name yet. I guess you were going to tell me when you’re ready, like when you’ll share a shape-shift with me.” He said.

The werewolf was thrashing, tearing at the material draped over it, but letting me, part of me retain some semblance of memory of recognition.

“Addison, lock those gates now.” His voice said softly. “No sudden movements or she might try to bolt or rip my throat out, neither of which is appealing to me.”

A small part of me, stuck in here, knows that voice is Paris’s. But it’s getting consumed by the werewolf tearing me up.

Then for the briefest of time, I felt everything and nothing, sound left me then it rushed at me, in heightened stereo as the shape-shift completes.

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