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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2201283
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Supernatural · #2201283
A woman is transformed into something she hates.
Tonight they are going to turn me. There must be some way for me to escape, but for the life of me (and it really is for my life) I can't figure out how. They know how to track me down; I have tried before to run and it has gotten me stuck in a room where they had me guarded for days. I cannot bring myself to commit suicide, although the alternative life I am faced with sends shivers down my bones, and I know it would be worse than death. I write these words down knowing they will be destroyed to save the secrecy of the clan. Tearful and pleading though I am, they will not let me go. I am doomed.

I sat back from the journal and looked around my room. It was sparse, but that's just how the clan lived. They had no need for outside things or pleasantries. I wish I could say that I hadn't brought this upon myself, but I had just by showing up for a cult meeting. My friends and I had come on a laugh, knowing these freaks would love to meet new people, and we would get to see for ourselves how they liked to party. It wasn't with alcohol. It didn't take long for my friends to be murdered, but for some reason they kept me alive. Oh, they liked me. I was just their type, and when I found out what they really were, I realized why. I had spoken so genially with them about their kind, thinking it odd that they would bring it up, but I was convincing in my speech that I would like to be one of them. How wrong I was. I want nothing to do with them. I don't want to be one of them. They are sick, wild with ambitions of death.

I cried a little bit more about the loss of my friends and the family I would never see again. That is if the clan doesn't see them as targets and kill them too. I would be a part of that after tonight. Maybe I wouldn't even see them as my family anymore. Maybe my brain would change so much that I wouldn't be able to tell. The clan certainly couldn't distinguish between enemies and friends.

Finally, after darkness had settled in, they came for me. The laughed and taunted me, as though I was some treat to them. I could have been. How sweet that release would have been. How sweet to be with my friends in the afterlife rather than following the clan to the designated area where they were going to change me. They threw me to the ground, and I coughed up the dust that surrounded me. Soon they surrounded me, and I pleaded once more for my life, begging them to let me go, that I would never speak of their secret. When that didn't work I asked that they kill me instead, and while that held them up in consideration, they decided that they needed more of them much more than they needed another death on their hands. They reminded me that I had glorified their kind, believing them to be awesome and praise worthy. My own words felt bitter and awful in my mouth.

Suddenly, one of them lifted me up, and the crowd cheered. I screeched, hoping someone would hear me, but no one came. No one could see what was about to happen to me. The person holding me bit down into my flesh, and I struggled and wailed as I felt the poisonous energy enter me. He threw me to the ground once again, and I coughed up blood this time, my body changing rapidly and painfully. My bones cracked into an unnatural shape, and I heaved and threw up from the pain. My face soon followed suit, shifting into something no human would recognize. My nose elongated, my mouth reached back and all of my teeth fell out to be replaced by gnashing fangs. I let out a cry of dismay, which only came out as a howl, and finally the pain stopped. I tried to stand up, but I was no longer human. I was a werewolf. All of the clan shifted down to join me, and I whimpered as they rubbed their bodies against me. There was nothing in my mind but a taste for flesh. I growled. This was my new life.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2201283