Edward Snowden, An American Werewolf in Russia

Being in the Mental Hospital is a Beast. Literally.

"Security?" calls out the psych ward chief. "One of our clients has disappeared, and there's a wild animal on the loose!"

What appear to be two tough-looking guards start running at me. In a state of fight-or-flight, I jump out the window and start running as if it's nothing. I surely wish it was nothing.

But it's no use. They eventually catch up to me, just when I think I won't be captured. Restraining me, they decide to bring me back.

"Look, dude," they tell me. "The only reason we're not putting you in maximum security is because, werewolf attack, notwithstanding, we're not terrifed enough of you

At least now you know I'm actually a werewolf, I think to myself. But I don't bother arguing with them. Why should I? I'm already in a shitload of trouble.

The next day happens to be visiting day. My girlfriend offers to visit me here for some reason.

"Hey, Edward," she tells me, pulling out a book. "Here's that copy of Fahrenheit 451 you requested."

"Thank you," I say, taking it with gratitude.

"You're welcome." "What's going on? What happened?"

"Oh, nothing," I lie to her. "I'm just wondering why the hell you've decided to visit me here."

"Edward, we went through this," she tells me. "We promised each other we'd visit each other in prison if anything happened."

"I guess I shouldn't be too surprised," I tell her. "But honestly, why me? Why now? I thought you didn't want to be crept up in the crazy shit that happened in my life."

"Look, Edward, with all that's happening here, a wolf-baby is, honestly, the least of our problems," she tells me. "I mean, to be honest, I've secretly always wanted a Twilight romance..."

"Nobody ended up in the psych ward in Twilight," I tell her. "Also, wasn't the Edward of that story a vampire, not a werewolf?"

"Look, I don't care if you're in the psych ward or not," she tells me. "I'll always be Team Edward."

I smile, than realize something.

"But what about the baby?" I tell her. "You're probably due any day now, and I want to be there for our little baby."

"Oh, she won't be due for another two months," she tells me. "You've got time."

"You know what?" I say, clutching her hand. "We've got all the time in the world."

"Okay, enough!" says a perky voice. "Visiting time is up!"

"Whatever you do, don't tell Mom & Dad!" I tell her. "Please don't!"

"Don't worry, I won't!" she says, smiling as she leaves.

Right after visiting time is bedtime, and while the sheets aren't of the best quality, they're comfortable enough to sleep in. I'm too exhausted to care, anyway.

I don't even bother having a dream that night. My mind is too riddled with thoughts left and right about what has happened over the past few days. Jacob Littlefeather. The shaman. My new werewolf form. (I guess I really shouldn't be calling my werewolf form "new," now should I?)

Soon enough, I'm woke from a nurse taking my vitals. Why is it that all the cute girls are nurses? At least, the ones that don't go into the entertainment industry.

"That was a really nasty attack that happened last night," she tells me. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lie. In reality, I'm more of a mess than ever. Perhaps it wasn't wrong that I was sent here.

Suddenly, she pulls out a needle, looking as though she's going to prick my finger with it. What do I look like, Sleeping Beauty?

I nudge away from her like I'd just seen a terrifying bug.

"My apologies?" she asks me. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just want to help."

I can't handle it anymore. As I start to chew away at my clothes, a frightening metamorphosis starts to take place inside me.

"Are you...okay?" she asks. I want to respond, but I obviously can't.

I start to pant heavily as this young thing can do nothing but merely look on in terror. I want to respond, but honestly, I'm too terrified to understand what the hell is happening to my body. God, puberty was never this scary.

Eventually, I can't take what's happening to me, and scream in terror. Suddenly, she leaves screaming.

Soon enough, the doctors and nurses enter my room, and what appears to be someone to restrain me.

"Wait a minute," says one of them. "We don't remember a wolf coming in here."

"Very funny," he tells his little "friend." "Come to think of it, if he's actually a wolf like he says, he's not really insane. Perhaps he can be discharged?"

"He's still a threat to society if he screams around like that," he tells him. "I mean, he did kill that CIA operative."

"Yeah, but he's not aggressive right now," says the other one.

I start growling in terror, but for some odd reason, not only do I not have the urge to attack this time, I don't have the strength to carry it out. Perhaps it's because I'm getting more control over my new form? Who knows, really?

"In any case, what do you think we should do now?"

I suddenly start to calm down as I hear them. Perhaps I can leave soon? What an amazing miracle!

"Yeah, if we give him another psychiatric evaluation, and he turns out to be fine, he'll be good to go."

I smile with relief, yet feel totally apprehensive. I want to leave, but how soon can I leave, anyway? Looks pretty sketchy to me. I mean, I don't feel very aggressive right now, just in pain.

But what pain it is! I start doing whatever I can to ease it, from biting to screaming to rocking back and forth. However, since this isn't the same stress I felt on the battlefield years before, it's not the same, so I can't attack anyone.

Luckily, they can't put two and two together, and merely rush out to get me a tranquilzer shot. It's not like they can put animals in maximum security mental hospitals, anyway. Soon enough, I'm knocked out, but honestly, I don't care one bit. Not that I can feel anything, anyway.