A/N: Another strange chapter, to give you a view of poor ol' Remus.
Meant To Be
It was nearly dark. Remus could see the sun setting now. He pulled five separate chains to lock the door of his metal shed, twisted the remaining locks firmly, and made sure the tiny window was tightly secured. Once he was sure there was no possible way to get in or out, Remus sat down on his bed (which was really a large pile of ripped and tattered blankets) and braced himself.
He could feel it coming on now. His body tensed, his arms and legs began to shudder, and his torso stung unbearably. Any minute now…any minute…
There.
Remus began to tremble violently. The stinging grew to his whole body, and his eyes rolled back into his head. He could feel his mouth frothing up. He fell back onto the cold cement floor. He was sweating horribly now, he could feel it. He rolled around, screaming in pain. His body was being ripped in two…knives were being thrust into his back and chest…it felt as if he was being dunked into acid, or some kind of cruel potion was being poured over him. He was dying…dying…dying…and it ended.
A huge, panting, brown-red werewolf now stood where Remus John Lupin had lay only moments earlier. The wolf liked its gleaming teeth hungrily and howled. The growling shook the entire shed, making the earth surrounding the wolf's home tremble as if the world was cracking open and swallowing itself.
Hungry.
The wolf turned in a circle, hunting for a way to get out of this prison, a way to get food. But it was futile. The entire shed was made out of some strange, thick metal. The door had dozens of locks, and there was no way for anything bigger than an infant to fit through that window.
Wait! The window was opening now, and something was dropped inside. The werewolf ran over to the tiny hole, but it was closed and a rock was placed in front of it hurriedly. The wolf howled again, and paced around the window. What had been thrown?
Rabbit.
A small, furry rabbit had been thrown into the room. Was it moving?
Alive.
It was! The rabbit was shaking furiously, staring at the large creature before it. It gave a small squeak, and took off, running in circles around the room. The werewolf took of after it, catching it quickly and batting it around like a toy. The wolf let out a-was that a laugh?-as he tossed the bunny around, back and forth, back and forth. It seemed as if he was playing with it.
Dead.
The rabbit was limp in his hands now. The werewolf growled sadly as he looked down on his bloody, mangled toy. He sighed, then, a loud, echoing sigh, filling the room with breath that stank of dead animal. He glanced down at the rabbit and fiercely took a large bite of it, the skin ripping of in his mouth.
Good.
When the wolf had finished of his rabbit, he had nothing else to do but go to sleep. So he lay down on his blanket and closed his eyes. But the bloody blanket wasn't big enough. He grabbed it and shook it fiercely. Shards of material and cotton stuffing were flung into the air, and the blanket was destroyed. The wolf sat down heavily and sighed again.
Lonely.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
When eleven-year-old Remus Lupin woke up the next morning, he felt sick to his stomach. What had his mum left him to eat last night? Whatever it was left his mouth filled with the taste of blood. He spit on the ground, and noticed a few shreds of fur. He walked shakily to the door, unbolted it, and entered his house.
A/N: Sorry for the shortness, my mom's about to pull my hair out.