Today was the day. A looming cloud of dread attached itself to Kristopherson as he prepared himself for what was to come. The man was stumbling around his house somewhat as he tried to get everything together. All he needed was some sweatpants and a shirt several sizes too big. Perhaps a few toiletries as well for the next morning, but Kristopherson was having trouble planning that far ahead. In fact, he was having trouble thinking in terms of minutes.

Kristopherson was a tad scatterbrained, as was a common symptom of lycanthropy just before a full moon. He was currently trying to come up with something to eat, but he couldn't decide on one thing. In one hand, he held a box of cereal, and in another, he was examining a package of bacon and debating on cooking it. Then the phone rang and he had to figure out which one to set down in order to go answer it.

"Hello?"

"Kris! Hey, how're you holding up?" asked a familiar voice on the other end. Alois was to check on him that morning in order to confirm plans for that evening, as he was going to accompany Kristopherson to H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. headquarters for his first moon.

"Uh, other than a slew of weird symptoms and the fact that I am about to eat my entire kitchen; fantastic." Answered the wolfman. "I feel nauseous and I can't think straight."

"That's normal, I think." Stated the menace. "Don't worry, you're going to be okay. I'll pick you up in a few hours, and we'll be on our way."

"The less time I'm worrying about my impending doom, the better."

"You're not doomed. You're going to be okay."

"Says you. You're not the one who's gonna be going all Lon Chaney."

After calming down a bit, Kristopherson waited for the Phantomhive to arrive, even though it was torturous. There was nothing that he could think of to do to distract himself. Watching TV did nothing for him. The first channel he landed on was playing An American Werewolf In London, which immediately unsettled the man. In an attempt to calm himself down, he splashed some water on his face, only to be startled by just how much hair had already started to appear. There was really no use in shaving, it seemed, so Kristopherson didn't bother. If only he could sleep until the menace arrived, that would be wonderful. Unfortunately, it was doubtful that he could.

Thank goodness that the blonde arrived early, saving him from his own thoughts. He was even so courteous as to stop and get them both food on the way to their destination. Kristopherson felt bad for ordering so much, but for some reason, he was absolutely starving. He wasn't the only one who read the book, however, and Alois simply said that he owed him a meal in return. The menace understood that the side effects and symptoms of this disease can cause this.

It was one of the longest meals either of them had to sit through, however. Kristopherson didn't want to leave too soon, and Alois didn't want to make him, so long as they weren't behind schedule. It was obvious that the faux-blonde felt better after eating, but his nerves were still shaky.

Arriving at the base was like being hit by a truck, as he didn't even want to get out of the car. He walked slowly on his way to the research department, where the researchers had prepared a room for him. It was plain to the point of almost being barren. There was a bed, a dresser, a mirror, and a door that led to a bathroom that was similarly decorated. It was uncomfortable to be there. His senses going haywire didn't help him any. His nose hurt from the sterile smell of the room mixed with the smell of chemicals wafting in from others. The most uncomfortable thing of all had to be the two-way mirror on the wall so that the researchers can monitor him throughout the night.

"That's not weird at all…" he muttered, setting his bag on the bed and starting to fish a change of clothes out to change into. "Are there any cameras in the bathroom, too?"

"Probably not." Alois answered.

"Looks like the 'covering the mirror so I don't have to see' thing isn't a possibility either…"

"Yeah…" the menace said almost sadly. "I don't know what to do about that."

"I guess I was gonna have to see myself eventually…" the faux-blonde trailed off, setting the clothes on the bed before taking his bag and setting it on the floor next to the dresser. "Better sooner than later, right?"

"Not always. Sometimes, easing into things is best." Alois replied. "Especially with big stuff like this…"

"Weren't you the one saying that this wasn't going to be that big of a deal?"

"I said eventually, it wouldn't. Baby steps."

"That's a luxury I don't seem to have, it looks like." Kristopherson noted, going back over to the bed to pick up his sweatpants. "How much time to I have left?"

"They told me about two hours." The menace informed. "Give or take."

"I should probably change clothes, then. You should probably get going. You husband probably misses you."

"Nah. I'll be camping out in the other room with the researchers."

"Why?" questioned the wolfman, baffled by the other man's bizarre plan.

"Because you're scared."

"You don't have to do that…"

"Oh, please…" Alois said, rolling his eyes. Playfully, he reached out to pinch Kritopherson's cheek. "That's what friends do."

"You're a better friend than I am." Shook the faux-blonde with a smile.

"It takes practice." Alois stated, patting the other man's shoulder. "You want me out of your way, then?"

"I'm going to get dressed in the bathroom, so it doesn't matter." Kristopherson replied.

"Fine, I'll wait here, then."

"I'd like to be alone for a bit, though…"

"Then I'll leave." Shrugged the demon. "No skin off my nose. Shout if you need me, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan." Answered the Miles, watching the other leave. He knew that he was simply going to join the researchers on the other side, but he wasn't feeling especially talkative, right then. His nervousness was getting worse. As time ticked by, Kristopherson felt progressively horrible.

His hands shook as he got dressed in the small bathroom, and he couldn't sit still. He tried his best to relax, laying down on the bed in the room, but he couldn't. His anxiety increased and his body began to feel sore. Kristopherson's hands, feet, lower back, and tail bone started to ache at first, followed by the bridge of his nose and jaw. The rest of him came after, and now he was tossing and turning in an attempt to get slightly more comfortable, but it was no use. The pain only got worse.

He scratched at his skin as it began to itch furiously, crawling as it started to change. He noticed that he had become slightly hairier, but that was the least of his problems. Sweat coated his skin and he breathed heavily as his mind did its best to drown out the unpleasant symptoms he was already starting to feel. The static that seemed to fill his ears as they changed as well was almost maddening, so he covered them, curling up in a ball.

The man's teeth started to hurt and feel "loose" in a bizarre way. Kristopherson grunted as he felt sharp pains here and there, but the worst was yet to come. His skin was now burning and veins protruded from his forehead as he tried to cope. He didn't want to scream, but he was close. His time was running out, and he was certainly aware of it.

"He's beginning to change." Said the head researcher, Miranda Ackerman, from behind the glass. "The thermal camera is picking up a serious change in body temperature, and his behaviour has changed."

"If only we could hook him up to check his vitals…" Dafydd trailed off. "Think of the data we could get from that!"

"Fuck your data." Grumbled Alois, staring through the glass with worry prominent on his face. With his sixth sense, he was picking up an unnatural amount of stress. The menace could hear him trying not to yell out or complain through the microphone, and it wasn't helping his own uneasiness.

"He's going to be alright, isn't he?" he asked to confirm, finally looking to the others. He sounded uncertain, but worrying often leads to doubt.

"He should be fine, according to Amelie. I'd have her down here if I could, but she's also undergoing her own transformation." Answered Miranda, her eyes trailing down to the alarm on the computer. The seconds were ticking away one by one, and it felt like an eternity before it got even close to zero.

Kristopherson had attempted to sit up, having failed to find comfort lying down. He said with his legs over the side of the bed, leaning forward with his hands on the back of his head. His bones seemingly popped countless times each time he moved, and he was significantly hairier. His arms and his legs were the first things to be almost completely covered, followed by his face. The faux-blonde would certainly have to fix his goatee after this, but that thought wouldn't occur to him until much later. Right now, he was too focused on rocking himself from side to side.

Finally, he let out his first yelp as a loud pop echoed throughout the room. The man was sweating buckets as his shoulder seemingly dislocated and relocated incorrectly. It was in its place, however. Its new one. More snapping and popping sounded off and the man shouted in pain. It started off slowly with only a few at a time, but eventually, it started happening rapidly, forcing him off the bed and onto all fours and finally on his stomach as he twisted and writhed. He could see his arm contorted and broken at an unnatural angle, mending itself before his very eyes to be longer. The skin covering it stretched uncomfortably, just as it did over the rest of him. His arms, his legs, his ribs, his spine, and even his face were breaking and reshaping themselves. Eventually, the breaking wouldn't be necessary, and they would mold to the correct shape, but now, he was relieving himself of the remainder of his human self.

Kristopherson shouted, yelped, grunted, and groaned as his body quickly changed, feeling relief only after a part mended itself, and more pain when another started. The man's skin felt as though it might tear as it tried to cover his expanding and reshaping skeleton and muscular structure. His lips could no longer cover his teeth as they stuck outward. The shape of his head was changing to be more lupine, but it was hard for everything to consistently remain proportioned evenly. Fear and agony nearly consumed the poor Miles as his disfigured form continued to break and mend. The static grew louder as his ears moved upwards with the reformation of his skull, positioning toward the top of his head as hair began to cover his face. It started from his chin, upper lip, eyebrows, and hairline before seeming to spread, matching his natural hair-colour while the hair on top of his head remained blonde.

Then, he tried to look at the researchers on the other side of the glass, but it was reflective on his side. Fortunately, he couldn't see himself the angle he was viewing from in his position from the floor, but they could see him. Alois could. Now, the menace had seen more frightening creatures, but Kristopherson—the fact that this was him caused the menace to be struck with an intense sense of grief. There was sorrow, and there was sadness, but perhaps most pervasive despite his better judgement: guilt. It felt as though he was responsible for the pain his friend was feeling—for the loss of his face. Had the demons not exposed Kristopherson to the supernatural world, none of this would be happening. Alois' face contorted with a slew of negative emotions as his friend continued to change, writhe, and cry out. There was nothing he could do to stop it, however. There was nothing anyone could do.

Finally, at long last, Kristopherson stopped and was allowed to breathe. His body was limp against the floor as dopamine flooded his system to relieve the traumatic experience he had just endured. The researchers hit the timer to discover that an hour and forty-five minutes had passed, but to the faux-blonde, it felt like years. The wolfman was exhausted, but given his size, he would no longer fit on the bed. It didn't matter anyway, as he was too tired to get up.

His breathing was deep and low as he laid there. Kristopherson was a big, brown, furry lump on the floor. The bleached hair on his head stood out, but other than that, he looked like a bonafide wolfman. Unlike in the movies, however, he still had his mind, although it was a tad foggy right then.

Hours passed before he was finally able to try and move again. Finding the motivation was one of the hardest parts, in that pursuit. Kristopherson was careful to avoid looking directly into the mirror, although he could see glimpses of himself if he merely looked down or held up his hands. It was scary. His mitts were huge and beastly. They were covered in fur, aside from his palms, and his nails were long enough to give off the appearance of claws. Hesitantly, he reached up to touch his face, and it was like petting a dog. Shaking his head, he tried his best to remove that information from his thoughts, to no actual avail. The action made him feel dizzy, so he debated on attempting to lie down on the bed, but from his new height, he wasn't sure if he would be successful.

He did try, however. His legs hung off the end of the bed, bent at the knees, and one shoulder hung off the bed slightly while the other was pressed against the wall. Kristopherson had to fold his arms and bring them as close to his torso as possible. It was more comfortable than expected, although he would assume that anything would after that experience. For the longest time, he laid there, staring at the ceiling, unable to fully register everything at once. It took him a while, but eventually, he began to cry. He was a monster. A genuine beast. How was he going to live with this for the rest of his days? This was going to affect his decisions and relationships from now on. How on earth is he supposed to talk about this?

Suddenly, the door of the chamber opened, startling the wolfman. It was odd to see such a large creature sit up so suddenly, but Alois didn't flinch as he walked into the room. Instead, the menace offered a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, mate." He said simply. "How're you feeling? Physically, I mean. I can probably assume how you're feeling, emotionally."

Kristopherson watched in confusion as the other man walked over to the bed and sat down on the floor next to it. "Lay down." Alois instructed. "Try to relax some. I know it's hard, but at least trying to take it easy is a good plan right now, I think."

The lack of fear or disgust from the menace was surprising to Kristopherson, somehow. Alois continued to speak to him normally, like he hadn't just transformed into a beastman. For whatever odd reason, it made Kristopherson to feel a little better. Thus, he laid back down and sighed through his nose. That's how they stayed for the rest of the night. Neither of them got a wink of sleep, but Kristopherson would be certain to catch up on it the next day while he recovered. For one reason or another, Kristopherson felt like everything might turn out alright.


A/N: Hello, hello, how are things? Not good? Kinda meh? Poor Kris...

I'm sorry I haven't been updating lately! School and shit, y'know? Tryin' to make sure I'm gettin' this math bullshit. Gotta test on Monday...

Also! I lovely friend of mine named SpiteChilla wrote a fanfic that y'all might like. It's called "Redemption of Fallen Stars". Good shit, right there.

I am excited about it. Sue me. Besides, I think if you like this fic, that one might be up your alley~!

Also, also: You can ask either myself or the characters questions on my tumblr, by the way. Same username as here. It's my identity. My brand. Also, sometimes I draw pictures and talk about this, that, and the other (mostly nonsense, though.)

Alright, shameless promotions are over.

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!