What Happens When the Moon Comes Out - Part 1
#1 of What Happens When the Moon Comes Out
This is something of a test chapter - I have an idea of what I want to do with the story, but first I want to gauge the reaction of the first part. Violence in minor detail is present in this chapter, although it may get more graphic as the story continues. And sex will come later too.
Enjoy!
-HP
The first time a werewolf undergoes his transformation, it catches the subject by a certain level of surprise. Even if he knew what had happened to him and what fate he is burdened with, there's still so many variables - when exactly it starts, how long it takes, what changes in what order, how painful it feels, and so on. And that's assuming the subject knows he's a werewolf ahead of time; otherwise, there's an extra layer of panic and confusion, that cliché "what's happening to me?" that every unsuspecting victim asks themselves as their body and soul contort into something monstrous.
The second time a werewolf changes, he's slightly more hip to what's going on, but that doesn't stop him from trying to pretend that it was just a one-shot deal. An unusually high percentage of second transformations take place in the subject's home or apartment - living room, most specifically, since the change starts early enough in the evening that he hasn't retired to bed yet. That is when the illusion of hope is shattered, and the subject comes to the sobering conclusion that he is indeed a full-fledged werewolf, and as cheesy as it sounds, the full moon is indeed the trigger. The moment the sun disappears completely from the horizon, to be precise.
The third time a werewolf transforms is something of an enigma. It's the point at which the subject has finally recognized his condition and begins to try and stop it from happening, as if one could catch water coming out of a faucet and put it back in. A subject will usually plan ahead at this point, driving himself to some forest or other uncivilized area that's just far enough away from the rest of the world not to threaten them and just close enough to drive to work the following morning without being late. His clothes are removed prior to the change now; he's gone through enough jeans and shoes to realize that they won't survive the process. A few will still leave their underwear on, though - that will at least spare them the thought of presenting an augmented set of gonads to anyone unfortunate enough to cross their paths that night. At least they won't be staring at my dick, the werewolf thinks, usually while he's in the throes of his transformation.
The change itself is literally breathtaking. It starts with a sensation that twinges through the nervous system alerting the brain that things are about to get interesting, followed swiftly by a surge of adrenaline and endorphins to counteract any pain that may be felt. But oddly enough, the transformation is not painful at all, at least not physically, despite the fact that muscles are being ripped apart and bones are deforming and organs are crunching together, and the body is metabolizing at a rate that could only be defined as supernatural. Rather, it's the panic reflex that kicks into high gear, the overwhelming sensation that you're turning into a monster, and you can't do anything to fight it because you have no idea how.
The process is quite random; sometimes it's the fingernails that fall out first, as sharp, black claws emerge from each of the werewolf's fingers; other times it starts with the fur coat sprouting up from every pore on the skin. There have even been a few occasions where the coccyx gets yanked out first, leaving a sickening bony appendage where a tail normally is until the fur comes in and gives it a more natural look. In any case, the last thing to change is always the face. That's because as this happens, when the jaws crack wide open and canine teeth become menacing fangs as the entire thing stretches out into a muzzle, the wolf's predatory urges begin to filter their way into the subject's mind. By this point, the subject is so exhausted trying to fight the change up to this point that they have little if any willpower left to prevent this from happening, and in any case by the time the subject recognizes what's going on, his personality has already begun to melt into that of a monster. Moments later, the transformation is complete, and where a normal-looking human being once stood, a lupine creature now stands in his stead.
At the very first scent of human flesh, the werewolf takes off. He's found his prey. And his bloodlust must now be sated.
Despite the safeguards the human puts in place not to endanger anyone else during his feral state, the truth is that a werewolf can cross a distance of 30 miles in under an hour, assuming there are no campers nearby to distract it. The only reason that the human side awakens anywhere close to the place he first changed is because of a built-in defense mechanism that causes the werewolf to return to his point of origin by sunrise, where he then passes out for a few minutes as the body changes back to a human shape. Thus, driving to a remote spot is a waste of time, since the werewolf usually finds his way back to town with plenty of time left to terrorize the victims that cross his path.
The trick to surviving a werewolf attack - both in the sense of actually living to tell the tale, and not being infected with the curse yourself - is to travel in groups. Single victims are overwhelmed in a matter of seconds. Couples usually survive about half a minute, as one person tries in vain to fight the werewolf off while the other is busy being eaten. Groups of three can come out with at least one person alive, but it's almost a sure thing that anyone still breathing has at least a few scratches on them - more than enough to pass on the curse. A bare minimum of five people in a group is recommended, because that's when the werewolf starts to have a hard time picking who to kill first. Constant distraction is key, to never allow the werewolf a chance to focus on a single person for longer than a few seconds. If you can manage that, all you need is someone with a lighter - and in groups of five, there's always at least one smoker - to light his tail on fire. But it's hard to improvise a plan like that while there's an eight foot tall, 400 pound beast chasing after your party.
Then again, some people are foolhardy enough to take on a werewolf all by themselves. Granted, this kind of person will already have enough experience with werewolves to anticipate their moves. The one advantage a single human has on a werewolf is superior tactics; lone werewolves don't strategize, and werewolf packs are practically unheard of. Thus, a seasoned werewolf hunter will know exactly what to expect from a werewolf - particularly ones that haven't been around for that long - and many of them have the skill and audacity to stare the thing down for a few seconds, just long enough to deliver a witty remark to start the scuffle. Something like, "You're new. Third-monther, aren't ya?"
The werewolf then charges at the hunter, who skillfully avoids harm by ducking under the werewolf's legs. In the time it takes for the werewolf to turn around, the hunter has already drawn his issued weapon - a .44 caliber pistol - and drawn a bead on his target. It's customary for a hunter to wait for the werewolf to face him before the gun is fired at the werewolf's chest. Assuming that the chamber is loaded with silver bullets, death is instantaneous.
But if the bullet isn't silver, it will merely knock the werewolf unconscious, usually for the rest of the night. In that case, only one conclusion can be drawn: the hunter has plans for the werewolf besides killing him.