I lay in the center of that godforsaken church, with many a delirious thought laced with evil intent flying through my tainted mind. Each breath brought terrible fear upon my ever broken body. Ah! It was horrible pain! I was unable to see because of my bruised, blackened eyes. It was folly to attempt movement, I would risk certain hurt to my infested mangled limbs. Blood trickled and spilled over the red velvet cover of termite eaten floorboards. Mauled and destroyed I lay in the innards of that church.

It was a large structure, with many a stained glass device of biblical figures residing on its walls. It dated many centuries, although it was tended to on a weekly basis. The church consisted of a confessional in the bottom-left corner, and a large altar with a chalice centered in the furthest point from the door. The door was of hand-carved oak, and in stature it was overwhelmingly mighty. Among the many rows of pews and red carpet I lay. Several feet away from me, towards the door a large tuft of wolf-hair soaked with blood lay. For this had been the only remaining evidence of my attacker.

For a moment I considered screaming for help, but I remembered my trachea was now mainly outside of my throat, as it was so badly torn. I decided if I was going to survive, I would have to somehow seek help. On my stomach I could crawl. I attempted to haul myself up on my hands. Though as I heard the loud cracking of my left arm under the meager weight of my mutilated figure, I thought otherwise. Would I receive help? Or simply die a most horrible death?

I shifted my remaining arm under my ribcage, and felt several badly cracked ribs shatter. I slipped away. I was a wolf moving with increasing pace from a large gothic church. I felt severe pain on my lower abdomen, it was only a flesh wound, it would heal soon enough. Though blood flecked back from this wound in the wind it did not bother me as much. I felt infected saliva pour from my mouth. It was tainted by the blood of a young man. My front paws felt like something had snapped them back and at that thought I felt glee.

A mans voice boomed down the road as I picked up speed. I heard the clink of a silver piece entering an iron shaft. The sound of a flint striking, and an explosion. A large piece of silver struck the back of my head. For a moment I felt the familiar feeling of pain. But the next second I ceased to exist.

Awakening I realized I was still here. My eyes flickered as the blurry color of a red carpet filled my view. I struggled to breath, because a rib was pushing on my lung. My eyes began to roll back in my head as the feeling of emptiness swept me. I was bleeding my last drops of blood. My stomach heaved and I began to empty its contents and part of itself all in front of me. A dark black substance flecked with red was presented to my wavering eyes. I coughed, and a shard of loose bone was plunged into my lung. Every breath felt like a stab in the chest. My heart felt as if it would explode.

I became aware that my last moment was at hand. Should I end it now? Or would it would keep going, only getting worse? I tried once again to move my hand. I had stopped bleeding, had blood simply ceased to flow? What horrible force was keeping life in me? I struggled to lift my broken body, the pain of a thousand masons hammers had struck me in the lower back. I tucked my chin into my exposed neck, and rammed my head into the floor. There was loud snap as my spine broke at the base of the skull. Why did I not die?

Some internal evil forced myself to stand, in the most grotesque fashion, I felt my legs lift me. I pulled myself towards the door. Though my wounds were horribly open and infected, and the pain was burning, the only feeling I had was… Hunger. I fell into the large oaken doors, they were pushed open with my weight alone, as if something was aiding me. They swung wide open as I lay on a dusty road. I looked up in time to see the full moon creep from behind the shadows of a dense dark cloud. I writhed along the ground a hideous, broken wreck. Darkness took me. I felt as though my face was being pulled forward by some unnamed terror, and pins were pricking me horribly from within as sprouted hair from all over my body. I was brought down to four legs, feeling the strangeness as a large bushy tail erected from the base of my spine. A ravenous wolf stood in the center of the street.

Eighteenth century European streets always smelt vile, and this one smelt even more so. A large gothic cathedral in the moonlight glowed with some divine light, for the church was the only thing pleasing to the eye for several miles. The other buildings, were dank and fallen-down. The recent plagues had left their festering stench in the streets. Waste lay along side the road and some form of fungi seemed to grow between the cracks at the bases of buildings. The terrors of the street were illuminated in the lunar light.

The pain subsided as my now-dangerous form sniffed the air. My shoulder blades heaved upwards and my mouth frothed heavily. I emitted a chilling growl as the scent of a middle aged man filled my nostrils. I moved in a bear like fashion towards Samuel the Hunter’s dwelling, He was burly man in his late thirties. He had many a scar, and would always be seen with at least fifty rifle shots. He wore khaki and his hair was shaggy and wild. The muscles on his arms were well toned. His wife was slightly older then Samuel. I had never caught her name because Samuel and I never had been on good terms. She was slightly beastly in appearance and had a very quick temper.

He stood on his verandah holding a smoking rifle looking at a dead wolf with a deep wound that seamed to be smoking in the back of its neck. I came around the back of his hut, and crouched low as I crawled into the high weeds under his field of vision. When in line with my prey, I pounced.

I would have paid any price to stop whatever was causing these terrible acts, my mind trapped in this beastly body. I savaged him with these paws. With every swipe I silently prayed that these atrocities were not on my soul. I begged to be released as my jaws sank into his throat. I was being torn to pieces as badly as he was. My anguish took me so deeply I became numb. I was oblivious to the blood washing over my fur, oblivious to the blood-curdling screams of my victim. As my mind rediscovered my senses, I felt searing silver puncture my skull and penetrate my brain. I fell on top of Samuel as a corpse, his furry hands pushed me aside to expose himself to more moonlight while his wife struggled to reload her weapon.

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