idalie
ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ʙᴀʙʏʟᴏɴ
MR. MASON STEELE
He'd crumpled to the ground, as if in pure blinding agony. Writhing beneath the moonlight like it burnt his flesh. Horrendous yells tore through his lips as if hot irons were pressed to his skin, certainly loud enough for people to pick up on. Shoulders bunching, spine arching - his irises a pure venomous gold, the pupils of his eyes nothing but pinpricks. And then there was the snapping. Gruesomely, his bones began to shatter and bow, like thin wood in the wind as they grew longer and began to rearrange themselves to become that of not a man.
Fingers bent back on themselves, nails extending and becoming sharp whilst the palms of his hands were coated in thick grey fur. If anyone witnessed it, the transformation would've been both disturbing and utterly inhumane. The screaming only stopped, as his vocal chords stretched and compacted, which formed at first silent shouts, till then howls.
His shirt tore, trousers kicked off to leave no Steele, but a wolf. Bigger than any which wandered the globe. Elongated jaws opened to reveal rows of canines and sharp molars, tongue lolling. Licking his chops as if to blow down a house, like in a fairytale. Nay, the wolf was out for blood. Preferably the blood of humanoids. Anything which ran on two legs.
The wolf loved hunting them. Silly little things, they could barely stand without their mothers. Mason was no longer any part of the animal which paced about in a primitive circle. His humanity buried beneath instinct and hunger.
Fingers bent back on themselves, nails extending and becoming sharp whilst the palms of his hands were coated in thick grey fur. If anyone witnessed it, the transformation would've been both disturbing and utterly inhumane. The screaming only stopped, as his vocal chords stretched and compacted, which formed at first silent shouts, till then howls.
His shirt tore, trousers kicked off to leave no Steele, but a wolf. Bigger than any which wandered the globe. Elongated jaws opened to reveal rows of canines and sharp molars, tongue lolling. Licking his chops as if to blow down a house, like in a fairytale. Nay, the wolf was out for blood. Preferably the blood of humanoids. Anything which ran on two legs.
The wolf loved hunting them. Silly little things, they could barely stand without their mothers. Mason was no longer any part of the animal which paced about in a primitive circle. His humanity buried beneath instinct and hunger.