A Werewolf's Growth and Redemption
I couldn't care less, before it was too late, I picked up the syringe and stabbed myself in the arm, one shot, two shots, three shots, I didn’t know how many I would need, I would use as many as I had.
In the mirror, I saw myself, my nails rapidly elongating, becoming sharp and unyielding, as if capable of tearing through anything in my path. My teeth were also sharpening, a primal urge surging within me, making me feel almost uncontrollable. Snow-white fur sprouted rapidly from my skin; the lineage of a white wolf evident in every strand. As I gazed upon this transformation, a mixture of awe and fear grips me, wondering what this metamorphosis means for my identity and my place in the world
Bab Populer