Beastly Desires

"From flesh ye have dwelt but fur ye will don and twisted horns ye shall take in place of what once was a crown. Sheath your swords for claws curled in shall swipe the air upon the wind. Scales shall flourish where skin once was smooth and fire shall rage internal where smoke will bloom. Curseth ye tward beauty befallen, non shall ye take for death will follow. Neither ye waiting foots and hands will be dismissed from this, for their curse will be upon their lips. This castle you blossomed in will be your chain, inside of it you will reign. Non spell will break ye curse, for love is the ultimate which you will thirst. Only a maiden will break this curse and she must be willing to love ye first. But be forewarned tho beast again, none shall ye take for death will win." Sébastien lay sprawled across the cold, muddy earth, displayed in front of the castle's gates. His chest rose and fell in hrash, tight releases. Rain poured along his face, his disheveled hair plastered across his cheeks in icy strands that stung his ashen skin. He blanched as a boney finger arched above him. He felt the power that escaped its brittle, demanding nail and seethed as it pierced his chest, igniting an inferno of blistering heat he had never felt before inside of him. He clutched, clawed at his chest, curling in on himself and shrieking in pain as waves of immense power thundered throughout his body. He felt the icy cold claws of the devil twist and reshape his bones, felt his skin harden and divide among itself. His head roared in agony as he felt his skull crack open and felt something shoot up and out of his head. Blood poured down his forehead and into his gaping mouth. His scream was stuck in his throat when his fingers began to lengthen and what clawed at his chest now drew blood. He felt every scrape he initiated unknowingly. He gargled, swallowing his own blood. Tears streamed down his cheekbones. Help! He wanted to yell but his breath betrayed him as he gasped. One final thrust of power had his body being yanked up and off the ground, arching his back in such a painful and mortifying way he thought surely death had come. His eyes glazed over and beheld the midnight fur that blossomed from his skin, covering his forearms and shoulders. He felt the thick pelt make its way up his neck and face. He could do nothing but watch as his body was robbed from him, as his very soul became chained and its weight ushered him inside the gates of the castle, sealing him shut from the outside with a loud clang. That arching finger now tapped ever so lightly on the iron gates. Its power shook the ground and Sébastien felt his soul give out and sank into a cold, black abyss.