Author's Notes: Oiii, I'm so sorry this was so late in the making! (And that it's so short...) I've just been without inspiration so long...*cough* Anyways....beginning and ending words are from a song I think is called "Bad Moon Rising". It's a song that plays right before the transformation scene in An American Werewolf in London.

And Chibizoo....touch naught the ferret plushie! Oi! And Fallen Iceangel, sorry but I'm not sure I could read the horror story. I've never seen an ounce of Beyblade, so I wouldn't know what in the world was going on...o^.^o;; *cough* I'm sure it's good, though! (Better than this trash, at least...) o^.^o;; *coughcough* Now on with the story...

Metamorphosis

Chapter Three: I See A Bad Moon Rising

            Three weeks was a long time to wait. Especially when you know whatever's coming is a bad thing.

            Everyone was nervously anticipating what was to come. Seto had tried several times to rush the delivery of the monkshood, but even someone as wealthy as he was couldn't do a thing about it.

            During the three weeks, random killings occurred, but nothing was "silent" like it had been a few months ago. That werewolf had a pattern. That werewolf was gone now, nothing but bones on a catwalk a small few knew about.

            The decision was to keep Bakura locked in the storeroom of the Game Shop. The wooden door was solid oak and Yugi said it would hold against anything. Tristan, however, was quite doubtful.

            "You don't know just how strong a werewolf is. I mean, Bakura is weaker than I am, but given the body of a wolf who knows what he can do." he stated absently, staring vacantly at the coffee table in the shorter boy's living room. He'd been rather pessimistic and distant ever since Bakura had been bitten, almost as if he was expecting them to be helpless and unprepared like they had last time.

            "Well, you're a lot of help...." Joey glared playfully at his best friend, but the playfulness soon vanished and worry replaced it. "You okay, pal?"

            "......I don't know."

            "What's that supposed to mean?"

            "......I don't know."

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

            Bakura fluttered his dark brown eyes open and slowly became aware of his surroundings.

            Correction—he fluttered his pinkish-red eyes open and slowly became aware of his surroundings. To naturally have silver-white hair, one must be an albino. Therefore, one must have red eyes. It was certainly surprising to his friends when they discovered he wore contacts that changed his eye color and he didn't dye his hair.

            'I hate myopia...' he thought, then blinked and slowly sat up. The watercolor of a random still life on the opposite wall was as clear and sharp of an image as if it had been two feet from his face. The British boy rubbed his eyes and looked again. The image of the painting was still clear.

            And then he remembered what had happened.

            'Well, good vision is nice but being a bloody werewolf isn't....' he thought gloomily and looked around. He was indeed in a hospital bed, in a hospital room, and according to the date on the calendar on the wall to the right of him, it had been three weeks since he was attacked, and now it was two days until the full moon.

            ~You're so pathetic.~

            The silver-haired child squeaked softly, his eyes widening at the mental voice of his yami.

            ~U-um....I'm sorry?~

            ~You didn't even fight back, you coward. Now look at you.~

            ~......I'm sorry.~

            ~Quit apologizing. I kind of like this. We're going to be powerful, right?~

            ~Um....~

            ~Well?~

            ~Y-yes...~

            ~Good boy. And you know how much I love power...~

            Uh oh. This was bad.

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

            Bakura whimpered in the corner of the Game Shop's store room. Two days had gone by much too quickly, and twighlight would end soon. Then the full moon would rise.

            Outside, the other six (counting Yami and Seto) were silently waiting for the moment, as well. Seto kept pacing, Yugi nervously read one of his new books on shape shifters, not committing a single word to memory, Téa chewed on her nails, Joey wouldn't stop fidgeting, Yami glared at random things, and Tristan just stared darkly at the coffee table.

            Minutes passed. In the store room, Bakura felt a crackle of energy run through his veins, making the delicate hairs on his arms and legs prickle and stand up. He pulled his knees to his chest and bit his lower lip nervously; was this it? Was this how the transformation began? He began to feel steadily nervous and antsy; he wanted to run, walk, do something other than sit there.

            A minute or two went by as these feelings continued and grew, yet nothing big happened.

            Outside, Tristan was re-living his first transformation.

            'Right about now I came to that ditch, I think...'

            And then a pained cry echoed throughout the two rooms.

I See Trouble On The Way