Under the cold light of the full moon, he stood in the forest, half-man, half-monster. His body was strong now—faster, sharper, full of power he never knew he had. Wings stretched behind him, claws ready to strike, fangs dripping with hunger.
However inside, shaking he was.
This strength came at a cost. His voice was gone, his skin no longer his own. He could feel his mind slipping, instincts replacing thoughts. The taste of blood still lingered on his tongue, and the sound of his own breathing frightened him.
Never does he feel this alive, and lost.