I know far too well what makes a monster.
It begins with the rising of the moon.
In eager anticipation I wait.
I welcome the pain that befalls my transition
for I long so for the hunt.
The hunger for flesh greatly intensifies
as the blood coursing through my veins
burns as it viciously mutates.
I writhe in agony as each muscle contorts
while my bones snap to form and thicken in mass.
I can feel each pore in my skin yielding
to the coarse hair covering my entire body.
My hands and feet savagely extend
as my nails stretch and harden into massive claws.
In unison,
my skull brutally transforms
as my face cracks and protrudes into a snout
and my teeth grow into deadly fangs.
My vision keenly adjusts to the night.
The turn to predator is then complete.
My acute sense of smell
locates the first unsuspecting victims
in the distance.
I know far too well what makes a monster,
for that's what I become
as I howl at the vibrant moon.
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