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A Night in the Life of Jonah Lycan
The Full Moon glows tauntingly overhead, its light flooding into the room. I can already feel the Change coming on, as my ancestors before me have. Another couple of minutes and I’ll be a monster, an evil creature, an abomination. Though of course I’ve never really had a choice in what I am, I was born this way.
I can feel my wolf-like senses already kicking in, yet not so much that I’m out of control. My ears prick up to a familiar howling in the distance, I instantly recognize it as Ross, my best friend who Turned just the month before, and, unlike me, seemed to be enjoying being a werewolf.
Too soon, I feel the burn of the Change enter my body. I double over in excruciating pain and endure the drastic change of my body, bone, and flesh. Luckily, I’m a full fledged wolf mere seconds later, already hungry for meat.
I can smell meat burning in the air. I leap out of my bedroom window. I start to chase down the origin of the meat, for my wolf mind can’t ignore its heavenly scent. I run as fast as my hind legs can carry me and blend into the night.
I arrive where the smell of meat has emanated from, and I see that some humans are roasting a pig, a chicken, what seems to be a rooster, and parts of a cow at a campsite. I lick my wolf lips with anticipation of the juicy meat, but then I spot the only problem: the bonfire around the meat.
I realize that I have two choices: either I go and find food somewhere else, or go for the roasting pig, which is the farthest away from the non-wolf friendly, deathly flames, but can still potentially hurt me if I make a wrong move. The irrational, adrenaline junkie, wolf part of me makes the choice.
As soon as the humans are out of sound and sight, I leap towards the pig and capture it within my sharp canines. I start to claim victory, yet then I realize that my stomach got burnt by the nasty flames. I solemnly curse my wolf self for the idiotic idea.
Then, I hear the humans approaching swiftly. I quickly forget about the burn and grab the pig once more with my mouth. I start running away from the campsite, so that the humans don’t see me. I only hope they don’t send out a search party, looking for the pig thief.
When I reach a clearing in the woods that I’ve escaped to, I immediately see my friend Ross, who is a wolf as well. I run to him and, through our sacred wolf telepathy, I explain to him that I “found” the pig soon after I Turned.
Well done, Jonah. I have yet to go hunting myself.
Have some of mine, brother. I am not so hungry that I’ll not be able to part with some.
I give Ross the head of our meal. He eats as our kind does, savagely. Meanwhile, I launch toward the pig’s leg, my favorite part, and start eating the intoxicating meat. It had not yet lost it’s warmth from the fire, nor its delicious taste.
When Ross and I finish our midnight snack, we head into the wilderness, two wolf companions. Suddenly, we hear an agonizing, bloodcurdling scream. We sprint towards the source. When we arrive, our friend Blake lays in the middle of the forest, just Turned for the first time into a wolf.
I wince as I remember my first time, or try too. I only have hazy bits of memory, but what I remember the most is the pain, the pain of Turning for the first time. The pain from when your entire molecular structure changes within a matter of seconds. Mostly, I remember the Hunger.
The same hunger I can now see in Blake. He looks furious, but mostly with the feeling of starvation. When he turns toward Ross and me, flames of furry stare back at us from his eyes. He rises from his prize, a baby buffalo, clearly not enough to satisfy his First Hunger.
I know Blake is not friend right now, not even himself right now, for the Wolf always takes over completely during the Frist Turning. So it doesn’t surprise me when Blake’s hunger is so great that he charges toward at Ross and me and tries to eat us.
However, we don’t have another choice, but to fight back. It seems like we go on forever. It’s not until the Moon has fallen and the Sun had risen that we return to our human forms. I look at Blake, who against all odds survived is First Turning, and know that there’s still a long way to go.
Next month, at the next Full Moon, the story will repeat itself, and Ross and I will fight for the life of another First Turned wolf. Will this ever end?