A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction, and I have a general idea where the plot going, but I would like ideas to who will pairing will be with my OC. So that means when you review, I f you have suggestions, I am willing to hear them. Also I am in need of a beta, so if you are available let me know.
I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. If I did, I would I be writing fanfiction?
The transformation was the second most painful thing I had ever experienced. My blood changed to boiling acid, and stung as it pumped through my veins. My skin bubbled and popped, and the hair sprouted out of me and growing thick and course, it felt as thought needles were puncturing me from the inside out. My nails grew longer and sharper. Agony surged through my body as bones cracked and shifted into their new places and I ripped out of my clothes. My cries of pain turned to howls of torture. I was losing my self to the beast. I killed 5 people that fateful night in the city of Derby.
The moon set and I found myself on a small river a little ways off from the city. It started to rain, and the blood washed off of my fur, forming a small red stream the flowed down toward the riverbank. I took shelter under a old cobblestone bridge, crumbling from years of use, with long weed s growing out of the crevices and chunks of stone had fallen into the stream below creating sort of gully that hundreds of water bugs and mosquitoes called home.
The transformation was completed, and I found myself naked and alone under that bridge feeling the sickest I had ever felt. I laid there on the side of the bank for who knows how long shivering, my mind unable to process what had just happened. My stomach ached and I longed for food, but the pain I felt was so unendurable that I found I could only turn my self over onto my stomach so I was facing the pool of water. I cupped my hands and began to drink, but the water tasted like blood so I stopped drinking, and feeling sicker than ever I gazed into my reflection. What I saw made me vomit in the water.
The pretty blond girl that I often gazed at in my mirror at home was no more. My pretty blue eyes were bloodshot, and my hair had become an awful shade of crimson. My fair skin, kissed by the sun, was now bruised and bloody, a fairly large scar bridged across my forehead, cutting into my eyebrow, and causing my right eye to have swollen twice as large as the other one. But what had caused me to vomit was not my appearance, but what I found tangled in my hair.
A golden chain was knotted in my hair, and as I reached up to pull it out I realized it was a gold locket. My hands started to shake, for I knew what this was. I silently prayed that it was mine, which I had been wearing it earlier and it would be a picture of my grandparents inside, a family heirloom given to me by my mother. But I knew that one was in a drawer with my other jewelry at home. No, this locket seemed newer, and tiny daisies were engraved on the cover, unlike the roses on the one I had. I opened it and what I saw made my world fade to black.
There was only one tiny picture inside the locket. Two loving parents smiled brightly at me, and then looked lovingly at their five year old child, who waved and bounced up and down. I knew this girl.
I had killed her last night.