A chill soaked into my skin before I even opened my eyes, like something cold and wrong had settled in my bones. When I tried to lift my head, the room spun, lights blurring in dizzying streaks above me. I clenched my teeth, a dull ache spreading through my skull, and forced my eyes open.

White walls. A stiff mattress beneath me. The beeping of machines. I was in a hospital room, but the air was thick, heavy, like the remnants of a nightmare that hadn’t quite faded.

As I shifted, pain flared down my shoulder and side — a sharp reminder. My fingers grazed the skin, finding lines that didn’t belong there. Deep, gnarly scars crossed my chest, skin pulled tight and raw. I pulled my hand back, the shock blurring reality, and suddenly, I wasn’t in the hospital anymore.

"Hey, you’re awake," a familiar voice said, grounding me back in the room. Caden sat in a chair by my bed, a flicker of relief in his eyes, though his expression was shadowed by something darker. He took a slow breath, looking at the scars I’d just felt, then back at my face.

“You don’t… remember, do you?” he asked softly. His voice held a strange mix of fear and disbelief.

Bits and pieces floated up, murky, half-formed. The smell of earth and metal. An inhuman growl that cut through the night air. Shadows that twisted, merging with something larger, something with eyes that glinted under the moonlight.

“It was… an animal, right?” I managed to choke out, though the words felt hollow, like I was just guessing.

Caden’s eyes didn’t meet mine. "That’s what we thought at first, yeah," he said slowly, voice low. "But no animal does this. Not like… this."

I looked down at the scars again, tracing them with my fingers. They were jagged, deep, too large for anything I’d expect from a cougar — or anything native to this place. “Well, I guess… they’re a bit much for a cougar, aren’t they?” I said, my voice catching on a forced laugh. It didn’t feel like a joke, though. The marks were proof of something dark, something that refused to make sense.

Caden didn’t laugh. He was watching me carefully, his usual easy grin replaced by a tight, concerned frown. We’d been friends for as long as I could remember — through late-night road trips, dumb bets, and worse scrapes than I cared to count. But this… this was different. His eyes held something I couldn’t place. Worry, sure, but something else, too. Fear? Or maybe just disbelief, like he was still trying to convince himself of what he’d seen.

"Look," he began, running a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I don’t know how much you remember. But I thought I lost you back there. One minute, we were just hiking, you know, the usual. Then…" He trailed off, his voice fading into the steady beep of the machines. "It was like the darkness itself came alive. There was this… shape. Fast. Furious. It was all a blur, but… it didn’t feel like an animal."

As he spoke, flashes stirred at the edge of my mind. Flickers of memory surfaced — shadows shifting in the dark, a low rumble like distant thunder, then pain, hot and sharp. My heart hammered, faster than the steady rhythm of the monitor beside me.

“What did you see?” I asked, voice barely more than a whisper. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But a part of me needed to.

Caden hesitated, glancing down at his hands before he answered. "I saw… something, but I couldn’t make it out. It moved too fast, was too big. And its eyes…" He trailed off, a shiver rippling through him. "They didn’t look like anything I’ve seen. It was like… it knew us."

The words hung heavy in the air, and a cold dread pooled in my stomach. What kind of animal had eyes like that? And why did it feel like a memory just beyond my reach — a glimpse of fur, claws, teeth flashing in the moonlight?

Before I could press him further, the door creaked open, and a nurse stepped in, clipboard in hand. She was older, with a kind face, her eyes tired but soft as they settled on me. She glanced between me and Caden, her expression sympathetic but detached, as if she’d seen her share of strange cases.

“Good to see you’re awake,” she said with a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

"Like I got hit by a freight train," I replied, trying to keep my voice light. But even I could hear the edge of fear in it.

The nurse nodded, taking a few steps closer to check the monitor beside me. “Your injuries were severe. It’s a wonder you’re awake at all.”

She paused, looking at the scars, then back at me. Her brows knit together, a faint frown crossing her face. “These… aren’t typical injuries. I don’t mean to alarm you, but… no one’s been able to identify the source of what attacked you. The patterns, the depth… it’s unlike anything we’ve seen.”

I sighed, glancing between Caden and the nurse, then back at the scars. “Yeah, so I’ve gathered…” My voice sounded distant, like I was still half-stuck in whatever strange, foggy memory I couldn’t quite piece together. I could tell they both knew more than they were letting on, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to dig too deep. But something about their faces — Caden’s silent concern, the nurse’s careful professionalism — made me press on.

The nurse met my gaze, her frown deepening slightly as she looked at my wounds. "You know," she began, hesitating, "I’ve worked in emergency care a long time. I’ve seen injuries from bears, wolves… even mountain lions, once. But nothing like this." Her eyes flicked to Caden, who shifted uncomfortably, his hands clenched together in his lap.

She went on, almost reluctantly. "Usually, animal attacks have a sort of… randomness to them. Claws, teeth — there’s a brutal, but natural chaos to it. This…” She gestured at my scars. “This looks almost… calculated.”

The word hit me like a shockwave. Calculated. As soon as she said it, something clicked in my mind, like a lock turning, and a memory surged forward, sharp and vivid.

Darkness. My breathing, shallow and quick, filling the silence around me. And then… a shadow moving, gliding silently across the trees. I’d barely registered it, but it was there, watching me with eyes that gleamed with something more than hunger. Intelligence. Almost as if it were sizing me up.

Then it moved, each step slow and deliberate, creeping closer like it had all the time in the world. The shape loomed larger, closer, a hulking silhouette against the faint starlight, and then — I remembered the flash of pain, the feeling of claws raking across my skin, tearing through me like paper. I was paralyzed, stunned by the sheer agony, and just when I thought it was over, a sharp bite clamped down on my arm, sending waves of white-hot pain coursing through me.

The memory left me gasping, my heart racing as I came back to the present. My hand flew instinctively to my arm, pressing over the bandages as if to reassure myself it was real. I could feel the ache there, lingering, as if the bite was still fresh.

Caden’s voice broke the silence, low and hesitant. “You… remember something, don’t you?”

I nodded, though words failed me for a moment. “It — it wasn’t just some wild animal, Caden. I don’t know what it was, but… it knew what it was doing. It didn’t just attack me; it went for me.”

The nurse exchanged a brief look with Caden, her expression unreadable. “Look,” she said softly, “whatever it was, it’s not something I can explain. We’ve had… specialists look at your injuries, and all of them came to the same conclusion: nothing in our region, or even known predators, leave wounds like these. You’re lucky to be alive, honestly.”

Lucky. The word tasted bitter. I didn’t feel lucky. I felt like I’d been marked, like something had left its trace on me — and it wasn’t done yet.

Caden reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder, grounding me back to the present. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice steadying me, “you’re here. We’ll figure this out, alright? Whatever it was, it didn’t win. You’re still standing.”

I managed a faint smile, though the fear hadn’t faded. "Yeah," I whispered, mostly to myself. "But for how long?" Before Caden could answer, I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead, cool against my heated skin, as if my body knew something I didn’t.

The nurse noticed and stepped over to the window. “You look warm,” she said gently, pulling back the curtains and opening the window a crack. A soft breeze filtered in, carrying the cool night air, crisp and soothing. I closed my eyes, taking a slow, deep breath, letting the coolness cut through the heavy ache still lingering in my chest and arm.

But when I opened my eyes, I froze. There, framed perfectly in the night sky, was the full moon. It hung low and impossibly bright, flooding the room in a pale, ghostly glow. It felt different tonight — brighter, larger, almost alive. My breath caught, and I was unable to look away, mesmerized by its eerie beauty, as if it was calling to some part of me I didn’t understand.

The room fell silent, and I felt an odd, almost electric tingle ripple over my skin. My heartbeat quickened, each beat pulsing with a strange intensity. I barely noticed the way my fingers twitched, like something within me was stirring, reaching out toward that cold, brilliant light. The nurse’s voice came through like a distant echo.

“You alright?” she asked, sounding concerned.

I blinked, shaking myself from the trance, and turned away from the window, but I could still feel the moon’s pull lingering, an invisible thread binding me to it. I rubbed my arm, trying to calm the sudden restlessness that gripped me, the strange itch beneath my skin.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” I said, voice a bit unsteady. I caught Caden’s eye, and he looked at me with a mix of concern and curiosity, like he could sense something was off but wasn’t sure what.

The nurse closed the window, her gaze lingering on me for a moment, as if sensing the undercurrent of something she couldn’t name. "Let us know if you need anything,” she said, giving a final glance before leaving us alone.

As the door clicked shut, Caden leaned closer, his expression serious. “What was that? You were staring at the moon like you’d seen a ghost.”

I forced a shaky laugh, trying to brush it off. “I don’t know. Guess I’m just… spooked.”

But as I glanced back at the closed window, I knew it was more than that. The moon had left a mark on me, a silent reminder of whatever had attacked me that night. I felt it deep down, an instinct I couldn’t shake — a feeling that whatever had started in the darkness wasn’t over yet.

“You should probably get some rest,” Caden said, his voice softer now. “It’s late, and I need to get home soon. I wanted to stay long enough to see you awake.”

I nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try, but no promises.” The bed beneath me felt hard, foreign, as if it could never offer any comfort. But I tried for his sake, watching as he stood and hesitated, a shadow of worry still on his face.

With a final nod, he turned toward the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder. I tried to reassure him with a wave, but even as he left, I felt a creeping unease settle over me, like the empty room was pressing in closer.

As soon as I lay back, tension coiled around me, squeezing, twisting. I shut my eyes, trying to relax, but my thoughts refused to quiet. My skin felt tight, stretched, prickling with an itch I couldn’t scratch.

And then, like a whisper laced with ice, a voice echoed in my mind.

Mother. Calling.

The words rumbled through my head, foreign yet somehow my own. It sounded like me — but gruffer, harsher, like a distorted echo from somewhere deep within.

Mother. Calling.

The phrase sent a chill racing down my spine, electrifying, unstoppable, like a subway train hurtling through dark, endless tunnels. My breath quickened, and I forced myself to open my eyes, to pull myself back into reality. But the room was spinning again, the memory of the moon from earlier flashing across my vision, too bright, too large.

Who was Mother? I thought, heart pounding. As if in answer, the image of the moon surged into my mind, vivid and consuming. My skin prickled with the memory of its glow, its cold, indifferent stare. I shuddered, gripping the sheets, struggling to steady myself, to shake the sense of something lurking just beneath the surface.

But the voice returned, louder, insistent.

Mother. Calling.

My whole body tensed, muscles tightening painfully. A fierce ache spread across my shoulders and down my spine, like something was clawing its way out. I clenched my teeth, a low growl rumbling from deep in my chest, unbidden, primal. A sharp pain jolted through me as my bones seemed to shift, grinding under my skin. My hands shook, fingers curling into claws that dug into the hospital sheets.

The voice came again, louder this time, more urgent, like a command.

Let. Me. Out. Must. Answer. Mother’s. Call.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, faster and faster, each beat like a hammer striking my chest. My skin burned, stretched too tight over muscles that were contorting, expanding in ways that shouldn’t be possible. The world around me blurred as I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to hold on to some shred of control. But the burning only grew, consuming me from the inside out, leaving me gasping.

I opened my eyes, my vision dim and tinged with red, and the reflection in the room’s window caught my attention. For a split second, I saw something staring back — something with eyes that weren’t mine, burning, fierce, and filled with hunger.

And then the voice was there again, thundering through my mind.

Mother. Angry. Must. Comfort. Her.

My lips pulled back in a snarl, and before I could understand what was happening, a searing pain exploded through my jaw, sharp and relentless. My teeth felt like they were splitting, growing, each one sharpening into points that scraped against my tongue. I clamped my hands over my mouth, muffling a scream that came out as a guttural, animalistic growl.

And somehow, amid the agony, a word surfaced in my mind, like something long-buried clawing its way up from the darkness. The Becoming.

I wasn’t sure how I knew what it was called, but the words felt ancient, as though they had been waiting there in the dark, lying dormant. This was The Becoming, and it was the most agonizing experience I’d ever had the displeasure of feeling.

Muscle tore and reformed beneath my skin, like fire spreading through my veins. My vision blurred, turning red and dim as if I were slipping into some animal haze. The scent of blood filled my nostrils — my own blood, seeping through the places where my skin split, giving way to something fiercer, stronger, something that wouldn’t be contained.

Another wave of pain tore through me, and I buckled forward, barely aware of the low, guttural sounds escaping my throat. The voice came again, searing through my mind.

Mother. Awaits. Embrace her.

I staggered off the hospital bed, clutching my sides as my bones cracked and shifted, every movement more painful than the last. I wanted to scream, to call for help, but no words would come — only the growls and snarls of something beyond human.

It took many long, painful minutes, but once I had fully transformed into the Beast, it was like stepping into a different reality, as if unseen hands had shoved me from one world into another. Every part of me felt heightened, sharpened, raw with the sensation of power coursing through this new body. Then, like a drumbeat that rippled through my very bones, a resounding roar tore through the air, shaking the hospital and everything around it.

Awake. Become. Power. Much power.

Gone was the human instinct, gone were notions of Caden, the nurses, fellow patients, or even the hospital itself. The only reality that remained was defined by concepts only the Beast understood — ones that lived in a realm of simple, primal hunger and impulse. The Beast’s mind was almost shockingly simplistic, reduced to brutal urges. Primitive. Narrow in scope. It was singular in its desires, relentless in its purpose.

Mother. Requires. Sustenance. Kill.

Though I would not remember any of this until it haunted my dreams, I saw everything unfolding in the moment, trapped in the Beast’s consciousness as it rampaged. I, who had lain dormant within while it lurked, now took its place; I was imprisoned inside my own body — or rather, inside the Beast’s body — while it hunted. I could see through its eyes, but the rest of me felt numb and drowsy, like a nightmarish sleep paralysis as it unleashed terror on everything it saw.

Sound. Screams. Delirium. Smell. Fear. Prey. Many Prey.

The hallways filled with chaos as people screamed and scattered in all directions at the sight of the Beast. People ran, their voices blending into panicked wails that only fueled its instincts further. It was pandemonium — a primal, animal frenzy.

Motion. Prey. Fleeing. Must chase. Must hunt. Food. Hungry. Very hungry.

As if on a leash I couldn’t pull back, I was dragged along with every movement, every sensation, imprisoned in this living, breathing cage of flesh and muscle. And the Beast was ravenous. It launched itself down the corridor, bounding after the nearest person with a terrifying speed, its massive limbs pumping with brutal efficiency as it closed in on its first target.

Flesh. Succulent meat. Blood. Throat. Dry. Feast. Consume. Hunger. Sight. Prey found.

Through its eyes, I glimpsed a familiar figure, rooted in fear at the end of the hall. It was the nurse from earlier.

No, please don’t touch her!

But my silent plea went unheard. The Beast’s body lunged forward, its powerful arm reaching out, razor-sharp claws slicing through the air, catching the side of the nurse's face. Flesh tore open like gift wrap, blood spilling out like ribbons of tissue paper, her innards exposed, the horrific prize within.

I’m so sorry… My own voice sounded distant, drowned by the Beast’s impulses, as I wept inwardly for her.

Tear. Rip apart. Delicious food.

Mercy was foreign to the Beast. Its focus was absolute: it was here to obey Mother, to feed. It cared nothing for kindness, for pity or compassion; it was a creature of pure, relentless hunger.

Lowering its muzzle over the corpse, it bit down, teeth tearing into the meat, savoring the taste, blood soaking into its maw. The Beast’s mind reveled in the taste while my consciousness recoiled, sickened, yet unable to escape. Though I couldn’t feel the nausea that would surely overwhelm me in my own body, I was aware of the horror, each crunch of bone, each tear of muscle filling me with dread I could not express.

Exhilaration. Hunt successful.

The satisfaction was short-lived. After licking its chops, the Beast’s gaze swept the bloodied hall for more movement, the scent of lingering fear sharpening its focus. Every twitch of muscle, every drop of sweat, every breath hinted at the pulse of life it could end.

Need. More food. Stomach. Empty. Chase. Hunt. Search.

In that haze of blood and chaos, I felt myself slipping further into darkness, my human thoughts and memories slowly dulling, fading beneath the weight of the Beast’s will. The nightmare was only beginning, and there was no escape.

The hunt continued, my senses sharper, my instincts keener, each movement propelled by an inhuman drive to kill, to devour. Every new scent of fear or heartbeat of fleeing prey sent jolts of satisfaction through the Beast’s body, its limbs moving with terrifying precision, its vision attuned to every flicker of movement, every scent of warm flesh.

My thoughts, fractured and fading, still fought to surface, each one weaker than the last.

Oh God, make it stop!

But no matter how I screamed inside, the Beast was relentless. It tore through the corridors, leaving a trail of blood and terror in its wake, reveling in the thrill of the chase, the fresh kill. And with every strike, every heartbeat that ceased beneath its claws, I could feel something in me slipping further away, falling deeper into a dark void of despair.

The Beast growled, low and feral, its senses savoring the chaos around us. It caught the scent of another prey — a woman huddled in the corner of a room, her eyes wide and unseeing, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Prey. Weak. Cower.

The Beast lunged, teeth sinking into her shoulder, the crunch of bone reverberating through me. My soul twisted in agony, desperate to pull back, to close my eyes, but I was forced to witness it all, to feel her terror through the Beast’s own predatory satisfaction.

I’m not me. Slipping…

I could sense myself fading, my will to fight dissolving with each passing second. As much as I struggled, I was drowning in the Beast’s insatiable hunger, its dominance crushing my resistance beneath a wave of primal instinct.

The voice in my head returned, stronger now, pulsing with power.

Feed. Obey. Mother calls.

Its words seeped into my mind, blurring the line between the Beast’s thoughts and mine. The voice became my own, the commands echoing with a terrible clarity, as if they were my own thoughts.

No, this isn’t me. I fought to push back, clinging to the last shreds of my identity, but the Beast only laughed, a dark, guttural sound that rumbled through us both, filling every corner of my consciousness with its rage and appetite.

More screams erupted from further down the hall, and the Beast turned, crouching low, nostrils flaring as it caught the scent of fresh blood.

Blood. Scent. Food. More.

Please… no… I pleaded silently, my voice a faint echo in the Beast’s mind, but it paid me no heed. My pleas dissolved into a numb acceptance as the Beast continued its rampage, each new kill deadening my senses, pulling me deeper into a fog of apathy and exhaustion.

In the next moment, I could no longer tell where its hunger ended and mine began. The body moved on instinct alone, tearing flesh from bone, blood spilling in hot torrents. There was no guilt, no remorse — only the endless, gnawing hunger.

So hungry…

The thought came unsolicited, slipping into the primal rhythm of Kill. Feed. Obey. I felt it pulse through my mind, melding into the Beast’s own urges, a haunting reminder of how much I had lost, how far I had fallen.

In the dim haze of my thoughts, I could sense that I was losing myself completely, and for a fleeting moment, I almost welcomed it. The pain of resistance, the anguish of each victim I was forced to watch fall — it was too much to bear. My mind drifted, each thought disconnected, each scream a distant echo.

The Beast's eyes fixated on another victim — a young man cowering behind a desk, his heartbeat thrumming with terror. It charged forward, muscles coiling, claws gleaming in the pale moonlight that seeped through the windows.

Please… don’t… My words were lost, barely coherent now, as the last traces of who I was slipped away into the beastly oblivion, and for a moment, there was only the hunger, the rage, the thrill of the hunt.

The last thought that passed through my mind before I surrendered was a whisper, faint and resigned.

I am the Beast. I have Become.

And then I was gone, subsumed entirely into the Beast’s will, nothing more than a passenger in a relentless, merciless storm. My human thoughts dissolved, carried away like leaves in a hurricane. All that remained was hunger — a gnawing, insatiable need that filled every fiber of my being, every beat of this monstrous heart.

The Beast prowled through the blood-soaked corridors, claws scraping across the floor as it moved with deadly intent. Screams and shouts echoed around me, distant and blurred, like faint echoes of a world I could no longer reach. Each sound, each scent of fear, fanned the flames of hunger, driving the Beast to hunt, to kill, to consume.

And then, somewhere down the hall, a figure stepped into view, blocking the Beast’s path. I barely recognized him at first, his face dimly familiar but shrouded in the haze of primal fury. But the Beast slowed, its predatory gaze locking onto him as he raised his hands, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“Please… you don’t have to do this.” His words trembled slightly, but there was strength in them, a steady resolve that caught the Beast’s attention, holding it captive, if only for a moment.

The Beast snarled, its jaws parting in a threat, but he held his ground. “I know you’re still in there,” he said, his eyes unwavering. “I know you… my friend.” His voice softened, a plea beneath the determination. “If you can hear me… please. Come back.”

Something stirred, deep within the Beast’s mind — a faint spark, a flicker of recognition. Memories seeped through the darkness, hazy but familiar, like half-forgotten dreams. Nights spent talking under the stars, laughter echoing in quiet moments. Promises made in whispers, the warmth of companionship. The Beast faltered, its claws twitching, confusion rippling through its predatory focus.

Caden. The name drifted through the fog, a lifeline pulling me from the depths. A surge of emotion flooded my mind — sorrow, regret, a desperate yearning for something I thought lost. I fought against the Beast’s hold, struggling to reclaim control, to push through the haze of hunger and rage.

Caden took a cautious step closer, his hand outstretched, his voice a lifeline. “You remember, don’t you?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm. “You remember us. You’re more than this — more than the hunger, the pain.”

The Beast growled, resisting, but I felt a crack in its armor, a sliver of humanity piercing through. I clawed at it, desperate to break free, to speak, to reach him. The Beast’s jaws opened, but instead of a snarl, a whisper escaped.

“I’m… so sorry…” My voice was faint, barely more than a breath, but it was enough. Caden’s face softened, a glimmer of hope breaking through the fear in his eyes.

He nodded, his hand still extended. “It’s okay. Just come back. We can make this right.”

But as the last shreds of my humanity surfaced, a dark understanding took hold. The hunger, the rage — it would never truly leave. It was a part of me now, a shadow that would always lurk beneath the surface, waiting for a moment of weakness. And the Beast knew it too. Its power was only restrained, not destroyed, and in that moment, I understood what I had to do.

With the last of my strength, I turned my gaze to Caden, swallowing back the tears welling within. “Please,” I choked out, my voice breaking. “You have to end this… end me. I… can’t control it. Not forever.” My claws trembled, lifting slightly, but it was futile. “Please, Caden… while I’m still here.”

He froze, horror filling his eyes as he looked at me. Then, with grim understanding, he pulled something from around his neck: a silver cross on a chain, gleaming faintly in the dim light. His face twisted with sorrow as he gripped it, the chain wrapped around his hand as he approached me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I’ll stay with you. You won’t be alone.”

The Beast snarled, sensing the threat, but I held it back, forcing myself still, my last act of control. Caden’s hand trembled as he pressed the cross against my chest, just above my heart. Pain erupted, searing like fire, but I held on, gasping as the silver sank deeper, burning away the darkness.

In those final moments, as the Beast’s growls faded and its rage dissipated like smoke in the wind, I felt a strange peace. The world grew softer, quieter, as the darkness closed in around me.

I saw Caden’s face, his hand still steady, his grip unwavering. And as the last of the pain ebbed, I felt calm, as if, even in death, I wasn’t alone.

And then, finally, I was free — no longer Becoming.

Also side question. What’s the take of getting bit by an original werewolf like a primordial werewolf vs a half breed werewolf? Would the process have differences. Like powers and duration of cultivation of the turn? Let me know your thoughts

This may sound insane. I can't find any solid answers. Was directed here.

according to Legends and whatnot, is there anything written about what happens when a werewolf bites a normal wolf? does it turn into some sort of 200% wolf? humanracecar@gmail.com please illuminate me.

Under the moon's pale, eerie glow, A shadow stirs, a figure slow. But don't be fooled by charm or grin; The monster lurks beneath the skin.

By daylight hours, I blend right in— A friendly face, a playful grin. I mow my lawn, I wave hello, But there's a side you'll never know.

Tonight the streets are filled with cheer, As spooky sights and sounds appear. Jack-o'-lanterns flicker bright, But they can't match my eyes tonight.

Children knock from door to door, Collecting treats and sweets galore. But when they pass my shadowed way, They feel a chill and can't but sway.

So if you hear a howl at night, Stay in your bed and hold on tight. For in the dark, I roam the streets With sharpened claws and eager teeth.

But don't you fret, I mean no harm; Just stay inside and stay alarmed. After all, it's Halloween— A time when creatures go unseen.

So here's my tale, a warning clear: Not everything's as it appears. Your friendly neighbor waves hello, But where he goes, you'll never know.

Done in Blender

Halloween pumpkin models provided over sketchfab by Nick Kotik and Karolina Renkiewicz, Candles by shuvalov.di

Which werewolf design in any form (media like video games and movies or just artwork or concepts) is the creepiest? If I had to pick it would be DeadlyMelodic's Seth:

\"Seth\" for DeadlyMelodic's Uncanny project.

Anyone have good recommendations on fictional scientific studies?

similar to Thought Potato (https://m.youtube.com/@ThoughtPotato), Maverick-Werewolf.com or that one book in Skyrim that details the unethical experiments on werewolves. "Physicalities of Werewolves"

Sorry if I make mistakes, but english is not my first language. In this very moment I’m reading Dracula for the first time and I’m loving it so far. But I can’t help but wondering if something similar exists about werewolfs. On vampires there are a lot of books and movies (I really like interview with the vampire), but I don’t think it’s the same for werewolf, because I don’t know anything. I’m not talking about werewolfs like in Teen Wolf or romance booktok books with alpha, omega etc. but about something more serious? I saw different posts on various websites talking about being a werewolf as a metaphor for illness or homosexuality, and I like this take so much. Are there any books about it? I know there are a lot of Harry Potter fanfiction where there is this kinda of take on the character of Remus Lupin, him being a werewolf is having a sexual illness after being raped as a kid. If you know something about it, well done, please recommend it to me. Preferably a book ofc! Thank you in advance.

We watched Harmony Falls this weekend. Came out in 2022. Looks like it was shot in the late 90s. It has "The Costume(tm)" in it. Huuuuhh....

"...What are you saying?" "I heard her voice, luring our patrol into the woods. Arabella isn't Fazed, she attacked us on purpose."

Lycans can rarely suffer a moon sickness called the Faze, causing them to be bloodthirsty and mindless. They can't speak or reason, and it seems Arabella could do both

I’m writing a TV pilot about a nurse who turns into a werewolf. To get in the mood, I’m putting together a playlist.

What songs should I include?