The Werewolf’s Mystic Lore

I stood atop the fifty-sixth floor, the moon blazing before me with an almost unbearable brilliance, a solitary black silhouette etched against its glow. Glancing at my watch—half an hour remained; my first transformation was about to commence… My godfather had told me that every werewolf, upon reaching the age of twenty-four, transforms at midnight on the full moon of each year. Since time immemorial, this had been the bloodline of our kind. There was no reason, only legend: the werewolf clan had once aided the celestial gods in establishing order during the dawn of creation, rewarded then with fleshly gifts. Yet, in the ages that followed, the werewolves, emboldened by their formidable bodies, descended into plunder and excess, and the gods, in their wrath, cursed us to become wolves on the night of the full moon—mourning the moon itself. Elders warned me that while the curse had once been cracked, more often it was a death sentence: on the night of transformation, one must hide in desolate, unfrequented places—many a werewolf had been shot by humans mid-transformation. A chill wind swept down from the heights of night. The moonlight before me grew hazy, and for a moment all the natural harmonies of the world seemed to freeze, then surged into a deafening chorus, then paused, then sang again… My blood ignited, roaring through my veins; my spine contracted, muscles burning and swelling with raw strength. Hair erupted over my body at a frenzied pace—suddenly the night seemed impossibly bright, unforgivably sharp under the moon’s glare. “Why have you brought me here…?” A voice—my subconscious flinched, sensing danger. A girl, her hair tied in a ponytail, accompanied by a man of average stature. “See, isn’t the moonlight beautiful here…” Really? Even for seduction, one could choose a better spot than this—? Hidden in the shadows—already easy for me. My fur continued to grow at a shocking rate; my teeth and claws—wolf fangs and talons—pushed outward, glinting in the moonlight. From the far side of the rooftop, intermittent voices drifted through the wind: “…Your face is so beautiful… more beautiful than the moon…” “…No… what are you—” Would it be assault? A foolish girl. I would not intervene lightly. Werewolves were weakest during transformation; though I had inherited the robust body of my kind and was a Jeet Kune Do master, exhaustion and weariness gnawed at me, the inferno within me still writhing uncontrollably. “…Ah, no—help!” Hurry up, will you? Assault, and yet so slow… I heard fabric tearing, her screams fragmented by the wind. On this fifty-sixth floor rooftop, even the loudest sounds were instantly swallowed by the gusts. “Thud—! Step, step, step, step…” It sounded as if she had broken free, running, the man in pursuit— Damn it, his steps were heading my way… The blaze within me surged; fur, fangs, and claws had reached their limit. I crouched low, struggling to suppress the instinct to howl. Moonlight, a conflagration upon water, seared my soul. A fragrant breeze brushed past as the girl fled to a corner near me, halting in terror. The man’s steps approached deliberately: “You… don’t come closer! If you take another step, I’ll jump…” “Haha, you wouldn’t dare. Come quietly, let me love you properly, my little treasure.” His hoarse voice revolted me. His footsteps paused beside me; he would never notice me in the shadow. Bathed in moonlight, I glimpsed his thin face, eyes ablaze with lust. “You… dare… if you step forward, I’ll jump…” “Heh, why bother? Who would even know why you jumped? Better to enjoy the night with me. At dawn, I’ll see you safely down—” I felt ready to explode. The wildfire within me surged and collided with itself, each heartbeat threatening to rupture my body. My paws strained against the rooftop; I knew the time had come— As the man stepped forward, “Dong, dong… dong…” The midnight chimes rang from afar. Flames erupted from my body, and I sprang forward, claws digging into the concrete, raising my first lupine howl toward the moon— “Ahwoo—!” The world trembled in response. I heard my voice ripple through the moonlight, smashing against the echoes rebounding from the cratered landscape below.