Wolf Sun

Fear was a constant feeling for me these days. The fear of hurting others, the fear of getting caught, the fear of feeling the agony time and time again, and most of all, the fear of losing who I was.

Fifteen months….I could count every second. Fifteen months of being nothing less than a flea-bitten monster. Hollywood got it wrong, all wrong. It was not, it had never been just one simple night out of thirty. It was all month, every month, nonstop. Even when we are not fully transformed, we are still beasts. We cannot control the predatory instinct once the infection begins. We must hunt, we must be wild, or we go insane.

And we were hated for it. Hated for being unable to control ourselves.

That was why I was in trouble.