WEREWOLF STORY
Hundred years ago,
when the earth was still young and untainted,
when birds were singing with almost human voices,
when animals were untamed and yet happy,
a cute little boy with curly chocolate-brown hair was born.
This sweet little boy was wandering through life
with a lightness of a butterfly,
with a kindness of a new-born fawn,
with a happiness of an unconcerned squirrel.
One day, when he was swimming in the mild floating river,
one unfriendly creature bit him in the ankle.
One day, when he was running through the peaceful shiny forest,
a sly snake bit him again.
One day, when he was lying on the flowery meadow,
a bumblebee flew towards him and stung him in the neck.
The three wounds hurt very much and made him whine pitifully.
And the sweet little boy suddenly felt a pang, felt that not everything was nice, tender and peaceful.
And the sweet little boy felt anger for the first time in his short life.
He didn't know what to do with that feeling, so he unintentionally fed it more and more, he added fuel to the flames and strengthened it immensely.
Suddenly the sun was shining too much or too little.
Suddenly the river water was too warm or too chilly.
Suddenly the birds were singing too loud or too false.
And the sweet little boy wasn't able to feel joy any more.
It worried him, but on the other hand, he was glad that he had finally revealed how the real world looked like.
And the sweet little boy was confused for the first time in his short life.
One rainy cold afternoon the sweet little boy went to the forest and lost his way.
He wasn't able to find it again for he had lost more than his innocence and happiness.
When the night came, covering the sky with bright stars and the trees with bluish shadows, he found a small cave to hide in and sleep.
And the sweet little boy was exhausted for the first time in his short life.
He slept for a long, long time.
Days and nights passed and he still slept in that small cave, hidden deep in the forest.
After a few days, a few weeks and a few years he finally awoke.
And the sweet little boy was surprised for the first time in his short life.
When he came to the quell to wash his wrinkled face and trembling hands, he realized he wasn't that sweet little boy any more.
His bright eyes were of the amber brown.
His fair hair were streaked with grey.
His cute small ears were sharp and hairy.
His restless hands were dry and brown.
His tiny mouth wasn't tiny any more, but wide and full of big yellow teeth.
His nails...his claws...
The old poor creature, which wasn't the sweet little boy any more, shrieked out with anguish,
but only a fearsome howling came out of its muzzle.
And the only feelings it possessed was hatred.
Blood thirst.
An urge to tear, to rip everything apart.
The sweet little boy had become a werewolf.
The first werewolf, which ever saw the light of day.
Without name, without tears, without humanity.
And the old grey beastie felt sadness for the first time of its short life.