I'm out prowling the streets of my small town, as the strong scent of whisky pours out of my next victims house.....I feel a low growl rumble from my core......then in the blink of an eye.....they're gone, nothing short of a couple of bloodstains on the cigarette burned carpet which smelt strongly of dog urine....
I am but a lone wolf in this strange town, I am known as a freak...a monster..... for the fact I have never done well under the influence of the full moon...
So I stand on a distant hill above the town as the moon....oh the cursed moon.....Rises behind me, hitting it's peak in the night..... I let a spine chilling howl erupt from deep within me, it bellows over the small town sending a note of fear and of warning to the people below......whether or not they heed it, is completely there choice. Honestly I feel no joy in my monthly hunts, but they provide me with the strength I need to carry on....Under the transformations my body calls for many more nutrients and vitamins than the average "Human" body would healing from a serious injury or ailment.
I can't help what I am.....I had no choice that cursed night....it all happened so fast and the beast had such an advance in strength and size, I was no match......I try to carry on my days like your average 15 year old girl, but the task becomes extremely difficult when nearing the full moon. I change, I start craving danger, excitement and most of all....flesh....It's like a addiction, It's almost impossible to quit, to change to animal meat only....my body quivers on the thought.
most female werewolves kill themselves if they survive the attack, because when they wake after a hunt they cant stand the bourdon of grief in knowing they killed another human being. And that they indulged in the course of action.
And it's not that it doesn't bother me...I've had my times of depression, Anger and suicidal thoughts, trust me, but I have not let it control me.
I am Ashlynn and I am the last of my kind.....and I will carry on