AN: Refers to the quote of Remus Lupin in book 3. I don't remember it exactly but he explains that before the wolfsbane potion he bit himself since there were no humans to bite.
THANKS to Ninja for Beta-reading!
He was panting. His heart was racing. Every muscle of him told him to kill, to rip something into pieces. No matter what it was. Just attack.
Remus had dragged himself up to the Shrieking Shack once again. Once again, he had transformed. Once again, he was torturing himself. The animal inside him told him to keep going, and the bit of human that was left of him screamed, as he ripped his own skin into pieces.
There had to be prey. The werewolf was not satisfied until there was someone to prey on. Even if it was himself, for the hunger had to be stilled.
Remus groaned. He groaned and howled. There was blood on the old, wooden floorboards. His tired feet pushed himself up and propelled him to the window of the shack, so he could see the moon. He put his head back and opened his mouth in a long, moaning howl.
The werewolf wanted to be found. He wanted to be found to have someone there for him. He did not want to be alone.
And then he would rip his company into thousand pieces.
Remus howled louder, desperately. No one came for him. Not a soul showed interest in the werewolf.
His third howl was more a whine than a howl, and it sounded very solemn.
Then his blood lust came back to him, and, with ferocity, he pushed his teeth against his skin. He could barely feel any pain, so he started biting his flesh harder. The next moment, he felt the sudden ache, and he fell backwards screaming.
The screams were almost human, more human than anything else about this creature. His soul was covered by the beast, his skin covered in blood, and his mouth was hiding long fangs. You could try to find the human that hid under the werewolf's skin, but you wouldn't find it. Remus Lupin was a monster, a monster that slowly killed itself, unless there were others to kill.