Tonight, I wish I were a werewolf.

The decaying remains of a fresh kill settling in the aura of the full moon. Screaming children filled in a classroom with the door closed after a “monster” terrorized their hallways and splattered educational promoters blood along the newly painted selections of the art-room. A choir singer with deeply rooted vocal chords spilling out of her still vibrating neck, the sheer shock and unheard of fantasy of it all still haunting her last melody. A painful transformation awaiting chaos and destruction, only to be unraveled at an innocent elementary school during a children’s play on Little Red Riding Hood, the irony was to die for. A blood thirsty animal sniffing out it’s next victim, what could be more beautiful? Red stained fur and muddy paws, claws digging into the desks and walls as the lights flickered in fear. A dark school, a safe haven once, now destroyed upon darkness and tears. The children sobbed and screamed and shivered continuously as the last of the teachers prayed for them to stop. Heavy breathing, rushed heartbeats, and the height of a shadow that grew from four to two and over eight feet tall. This hair covered, fang driven beast hovering outside of the door. It only left the rest up to imagination as it waited for the hearts to pump too much and erode out of miniature bodies before they hit the floor. The door snapped, the hinges broke, the doorknob dropped to the floor and rolled. A cloud of dust was born until two beastly paws took a hurricane to the floor and only left them staring into a pair of acquainted yellow eyes. Blood was splattered, screams were ended in chunks, glass shattered from the piercing pains and red dotted the floor in pearls and puddles. It was over. Everybody was dead. The shadow demolished into a naked young girl with wide eyes that couldn’t bear the shock of this. Her first full moon, her first release of the beast that fed inside of her. The answer to all of her greatest fears was questioned with more. This was the first full moon that shone down on her, and only her. She would never be looked for, questioned, called, or messaged. Her obituary would never be signed by a family member and her nightmares would never cease. The sadness built up and dropped in waterfalls, five minutes at a time before she stood up and grinned at what she had accomplished tonight. She was a werewolf and finally she knew what she had been waiting for all along, so she transformed, howled to the stars, and began her feast.