I Am Werewolf
I Am Werewolf
Book 1: The Werewolf
Charles looked up into the sky. There were few stars tonight, Los Angeles had an awful lot of artificial light. But Charles was not noticing the stars or light, he was noticing the full moon.
It was time to feed.
He would have to eat more than one meal; he had not eaten for the past two full moons. He was in luck, too. A happy couple had just passed the alley he was hiding in. Now, as he stepped out of the shadows, he willed himself to transform. He felt his teeth enlarging into sharp canines, his mouth turning into a snout, coarse jet black hair sprout from his body, and his muscles grow to almost five times their normal size. He was shirtless, so the only clothes that he would have to replace would be his jeans, which were now ripped in two.
He dropped on all fours, and sniffed the air to find the couple again. He caught a wiff, and started running in the direction of scent. After a moment, he saw the couple, and noticed the man press a button on his keychain. A car a couple of meters away from them beeped in response. Charles would have to do this quick.
Charles started running again, but this time, the woman turned around. She screamed and the man turned around, too. Charles had blown his chance.
The man pulled out a shiny black object from his pocket: a gun. Charles was close now. He pounced. Four things happened.
The woman screamed.
The man shot.
Charles felt something hit him in the shoulder.
The man turned around and ran toward his car.
Charles landed on the woman who was still screaming. The man had reached his car, and was now fumbling with the key, trying to get it in the ignition.
First things first, Charles howled at the moon, and bit down on the woman's head. Charles heard a crack, and the woman fell silent. He looked to see if the man had managed to get the key in the ignition. He had, and already had the engine running. Charles howled again and started running toward the car. The man floored it and the car shot forward. Charles only had a chance to scratch the car before it was out of reach, going sixty miles an hour. Charles felt the pain in his shoulder subsiding, so he turned and headed over to his meal.
It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.