Howl

Not Tonight

The figure below me landed with a loud grunt and a scream stuffed in their throat. Digging my claws into their back, I felt their struggles lessen. The heavy scent of their blood swirled in my head, making my beast anxious for the flood of the red liquid in my belly.

 

I carefully licked the back of his neck, feeling him squirm with fear.

 

Fear. I hated how the scent was invoked by my other form.

 

I felt my teeth sink into the taut flesh, making him drown his scream in his own blood. The taste exploded on my tongue, causing a shudder to heat my bones. Biting harder, the bone snapped and I felt the life leave him. A howl was stuffed in the back of my throat, my beast wanting to sing to the night sky that I was still a hunter. And that I was successful in my kill.

 

But all I felt was regret and not even a smidge of relief this meal should have given me. I killed senselessly, when all I had to do was make my blood-bond mine. And I couldn’t even do that because I was a coward.

 

A coward who killed out of fear.

 

-

 

I woke up on my couch, the small blanket covering my midsection. I moved and felt the smooth fabric slid along my naked self. The thick scent of blood was heavy in the air around me. I came straight home in my fur and immediately fell asleep. How I got up to my home was a mystery to me.

 

Sitting up, I let the blanket fall, goose bumps trailed down my skin like fingers leaving designs. A small shudder ran through me, the chill in the air was something unsettling. Sighing, I rubbed sleep leaden fists against my eyes. My life is slowly becoming chaotic, this feeding every other day, and it doing nothing was taking a huge toll on me.

 

My pack would feed every night, send out the pack hunters, lure the prey in, kill senselessly, and just for the company of one another. I always avoided situations like those. I’d rather feed when I needed too, and the company of books is more my cup of tea.

 

Sitting right, I dropped my head into my heads, elbows resting on my knees. The floor was cold and caused goose pimples to race across my skin. My jaws were working overtime, my teeth grinding slightly against each other. The pounding in my head was killing me, the urgency in my feedings lately grew with each victim. I never changed so much in a single month. My body was sore and tired, I felt feverish to the touch but that was just the normal temperature I was. With minimal changes, our bodies resort to one close to humans.

 

The blood smeared along my arms and abdomen was turning to a rust colour, and starting to flake. Claw marks were on the floor, the gouges not too deep but it was an eye-sore. The path that ended at the couch started at the picture window, a flurry of paw prints and small puddles of blood trailed the way. A burning growl seared my throat, the sound echoing off the walls, it was deep and menacing. My beast was still in need.

 

“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair, gripping the locks between my fingers, pulling slightly in agitation.