Werewolf Screaming Meme Novels & Stories

The bloody color of the werewolf is shining as well as the two tails it keeps on swaying. The werewolf turned around and looked at me, its cardinal eyes finding their way to me. I do not feel threatened or scared, I just felt sorrow and pain just by looking into its eyes. It shocked me when it smiled and ran in my direction. “Hey!” a masculine, deep voice shouted from within that I opened my eyes to see Alarick holding my shoulders and staring at me. “Get off me!” I shouted and pushed him hard, effortfully so that he hit the wall.

For Nicholas, the barcode was a blessing in disguise when because of it, all the werewolves were prohibited to do bad things, not just for their kind but for the humans as well. For that same reason, furious and hungry wolves, who love to stain their sharp claws and fangs with drops of blood, especially those ruthless alphas and Lunas have been dormant for years similar to a puppet. And he hasn’t heard any news about those merciless killings, colonization of other packs, and those unreasonable tortures all over the city.

It was so much so that he ran over to the guy and hugged him from the back. “Good morning!” he said while his face was buried in Nico’s shoulder, sniffing. “You still… smell so good…” “Seriously, man? You do know that werewolves think I stink, right?” said the vampire, who was surprised by the act, but didn’t make any moves to push his friend away. Even with the question, Ben didn’t stop with the sniffing. It wasn’t as forceful as how he did it last night, considering he now had better mental faculties.

I have read about werewolves and figured out they transformed when they were very furious and burning in rage. And that was Adrian right here, he was burning in fury. The sound of his teeth clathering together made me shriek in fear again. I held the arm of the chair tightly, trying to hide my fear, but it didn't help. I felt the edges of my vision going darker. I tried to muffle a scream, but I couldn't. The last thing I could remember was someone holding my hands, before everything went dark.

he yells. "Hey, man, give me some credit!" I protest, doing my best to ignore the pulsing pain in my chest. "I'm not some heartless creature of the night! I'm just a fun-loving vampire-werewolf hybrid trying to navigate this wacky world we live in!"

Another person added with a loud sigh of disgust. "Do you even know the consequences of all your utterances at all? You are making it sound like you are ignorant, not-too-young knowledge." A not-too-young male werewolf added with a grunt. Others agreed in unison while some threw abuses at me, the seemingly crazy female werewolf causing an uproar to arise.

I scoffed. "I know what I saw...what I heard...what I felt..." "It took you a while to wake up so maybe you watched something about," He failed to repress a chuckle, "werewolves, before getting hurt. Maybe it was embedded in your subconscious." I took another step forward. "I know what happened to me. I can taste the smoke and smell the sweat on them." I cringed at the memory. "Their voices..the...I remember the feel of you...I know you were there and what you...what you became...I-"

“This isn’t real. This can’t be real.” Werewolves didn’t exist. They couldn’t. I convinced myself that what I saw on the Internet was just fabricated news by desperate journalists. I opened the laptop again. The page refreshed, and a video auto-played. A man stood in the middle of a street in the night, screaming. His bones cracked and shifted beneath his skin. His spine arched grotesquely as fur burst through flesh. His jaw elongated, teeth sharpening as his scream twisted into a howl that wasn’t human anymore.

Fully human. I froze. My brain short-circuited. My mouth opened and out came a scream that ripped through the night like a thunderclap: “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Every nerve in me screamed. I was hyperventilating. My hands were shaking. My knees threatened to collapse. My voice couldn’t stop itself. Inside my head, my thoughts raced like a car without brakes: He… he… he’s a werewolf. He… he’s a werewolf. He… he’s a werewolf!

Her companions, graceful and solemn, nodded in agreement, their faces alight with a serene happiness. A werewolf, Dylan large and imposing with fur matted with the grime of combat, threw back his head and howled. It was a sound of victory, of liberation, that resonated deeply in the hearts of all present. His pack joined in, their voices harmonizing in a primal anthem that spoke of endurance and triumph.