Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they all belong to J.K. Rowling. This is also based off of the song The Horror of Our Love, by Ludo. Some of the phrases and words belong to them.
Another scream pierced the heavy night air, but it was not as if anyone would hear it. The area was silenced, and no one was foolish enough to wander through the gloomy forest once the darkness had fallen. Only one person had been dim enough to camp in the forest, and now they no longer breathed.
A hush fell over the forest, a silence that could only be attributed to the fear that had taken over the life of every living thing in a 3 mile radius of the scream, nothing but the sounds of the night and the gentle cracking of grass underneath the feet of tiny mice remained.
A thunderous howl penetrated the silence, a howl that was believed to only exist on the full moon, the moon of the wolf. But this howl came from a creature that no longer needed the luminous glow of the full moon to become a monster. He was always a monster.
Long fingernails protruded from the creature's sizeable hands, lean arms attached to a furry torso with rippling muscles and long, disheveled hair that hung from his head in strands. He had more hair than the norm, but that only made him look more like the beast he had become, and desired to come across as. He also had long canines protruding from his mouth, dripping with the flesh and the blood of his latest victim.
He didn't agree with the taste of that one, lots of drugs had been pulsing through their clogged veins and their skin was yellowing with signs of liver damage. But, he remained himself that this was not for the thrill of the kill; it was not for the taste of their flesh or the satisfaction of hearing someone scream. This was for her.
Her. The girl that invaded his thoughts relentlessly, her scent had caught him during a kill only a few months ago and he has never desired to have another as he did in that moment. It had been months and he still desired her. It was taking him over, and he no longer sought to have another human writing beneath him; all he wanted was that girl and his body nestled inside of hers.
He could smell her softness everywhere he travelled, the entire town he had spent so much time destroying was overwhelmed with her. He lusted for her, he wanted her to be his, but at the same time all he could think about was the taste of her flesh, and how warm her blood would be when it flowed over his vicious hands. The only way he could think of distracting himself from her, was to murder the rest of the town. This also proved useful in attracting the girl's attention.
One night, he came to see her in her room. He only stood there, trying to decide what he should do with his new obsession.
He knew what he wanted; to grind against her until their marrows mixed together, he wanted to tear her open and explore every piece of her, he wanted to live inside of her. But he knew, the moment he did, that there would be nothing left for him anymore. So he made a vow to her, hundreds of love letters filling the graveyards to say:
Love, I'd never hurt you.
For days there was no response, opened letters but no reply or any indication from her that she was intending to meet him. Just silence, but he was willing to wait. The girl would come to him eventually, she would. He knew she would.
Love, I'll fill the graveyards until I have you.