The Werewolf Series
The Transformation
Night Of The Wolf
The Transformation
The crystal clear black sky
Upon this frosty eve
Surrounds a full white moon.
They meld, appear to cleave.
Below, they view a scene
Within this humble town,
An unknown man now trips.
He stumbles and goes down.
Upon all fours he rests,
Is clearly in deep pain.
Not from the fall he hurts,
"It's happening again..."
He mumbles, groans, then growls.
Inhuman sounds emit
From his oft tortured throat,
Sounds human? Not a bit!
His body moves, reshapes,
Beneath the moon's dread glow.
His fingers become claws,
And shaggy hairs now grow.
A painfully long snout
Lined with great razored teeth
Pushes out, drawing grunts,
His hands sprout claws beneath.
His clothes are tattered, ripped
Until he crouches bare,
Not human, yet he is
Alert and quite aware.
The transformation done,
Nocturnal eyes shine bright.
Savage bloodlust rises,
The werewolf hunts tonight!
Night Of The Wolf
This dark and foggy mist,
It swirls, eddies round
Obscuring people's sight,
Enshrouding this small town.
A woman makes her way
Along a dampened street,
Her heels obscenely loud
Where they the pavement meet.
She got off late tonight
From working at the store,
And nervously she seeks
The safety of her door.
Tonight she need not fear
From muggers, punks or thieves,
Her danger is far worse
Than she herself believes.
Afar, an eerie howl
Cuts through the cool night air.
"Odd, wolves don't live round here."
Her eyes are filled with care.
Not many block away
A silent shape moves slow.
In search of helpless prey,
It will in shadows go.
Inhuman eyes gleam bright
From darkness where it pads.
It thinks only of death
And flesh that may be had.
Across the silent streets
A faint 'clip-clop' is heard!
A human's walking near.
Blood-lust is quickly stirred.
The huge and furry shape
Moves quick with savage grace
In search of quarry's scent,
A snarl across its face.
Beneath the misty moon
The werewolf stalks its prey,
This deadly silent beast
Will seek to have its way.
She heads towards her home
A couple blocks away,
Quite glad that it's not far
From where she works each day.
"Don't know why I'm nervous,"
She muses quietly,
"Not much goes on round here."
She doesn't know to flee.
For coming through the fog
Just five or six blocks back,
The werewolf, furious,
Is hot upon her track.
Its eyes are gleaming red
And teeth a razored white,
Like a train it hurtles
Quick-cutting through the night.
Unaware of peril
That soon may take her life,
The woman looks for thieves
In fear of gun and knife.
Now nearer to her home
She fumbles for her keys,
Her jumbled purse hides them.
Her feet crunch brittle leaves.
The gap behind's closing
As on the werewolf comes,
Intent on sighting her.
Its heartbeat pounds and drums!
"There they are, I found lthem."
She reaches her front door,
Takes the keys....and drops them
Accidentally on the floor!
While just a block away
A bloody death comes quick
Sensing prey that's quite near,
Its claws scrape, snick...click...click!
The key is in the lock,
It turns and she's inside,
Shutting quick her front door,
Unseen death left outside!
In a frustrated rage
The werewolf trembles, shakes.
That human was so close!
The silence now it breaks.
The howl that is uttered,
Macabre, quite inhuman,
Gives the hearers shivers,
Puts animals on the run.
In the park, not far off,
Two young men wait to rob
Unlucky passerby.
A cruel and heartless job.
And now the spy a shape
Quite hazy through the fog,
"C'mon man, there's a mark.
Ugh, smells just like a dog!"
This dark and foggy mist
It swirls and eddies round.
Through it shrill screams are heard,
Blood-chilling frightful sounds!
Return to the darkness...
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