This is for two of my most devoted and supportive fans. You know who you are but I'm gonna list ya anyway.
Ann ryce and my dear friend phantom who now goes by Jain Farstrider. This is for you two!
It's teeth are razor sharp.
Eliot was nervous. He would never admit it as he has been through things that would give people and their unborn grandchildren nightmares, but he was undoubtably nervous. His knuckles turned white from his clenched fists as he stood in the middle of the familiar clearing. Of course he came back to the same place he was before. Before when he thought werewolves were just something to bait your friend with. When he wasn't one. Oh how irony bites harder with him. He hated this. The one thing he knew he couldn't defeat. Himself. Eliot wouldn't have come out here, but even he couldn't deny the obvious signs of his supernatural evolution. He didn't believe in werewolves. The idea was still absurd to him. But, it's hard to explain the warehouse incident without using the word werewolf. Eliot's memory flashed back to that night. Some snit bits fell through sometimes and he could recollect memories. This time, Eliot was in the middle of his fight with the lunatic of a werewolf. The hitter remembered being thrown into a wall and hearing the distinctive sound of his ribs cracking. He remembered the pain. He remembered the anger. He remembered killing the man. However, he didn't remember anything in between. Eliot didn't remember how the fight escalated to the measure of murder. He had no real intentions of killing the man. He was done with that. It angered him that of all things, this would happen to him. Eliot always thought that if he was to ever have only one thing, it would be self control. He knew what he was doing at all times, but this, this was a death sentence. It made him angry that he just knew he wouldn't be the one in control this time. Not when that moon came up. Eliot set down his bag of supplies and then started to strip off his clothing. The hitter made sure to latch the tracker Hardison gave him on his right ankle. Eliot could already feel a deep ache as he looked up in the direction of the rising, full, and hypnotizing moon. Once the light hit his skin, Eliot screamed. It wasn't just a scream though, it was a battle cry. It was as if the wolf inside was declaring its time now, demanding its freedom. Eliot didn't like the feeling of not having control as that was what he always feared most. People died when he didn't have control. Something was pulling at his insides. Eliot hunched over in pain. However his screams intensified as his bones started to crack and rearrange to fit their new host. The fight was practically lost now by Eliot as his wolf started to emerge from its dark recesses. It felt like a crawling blaze underneath his skin. Black, reddish, and white fur rippled outward as Eliot's features started to become more lupine and large in size. His screams/ howls of agony pierced the air as the strong hitter was no more. A beautiful and very large human like wolf stood were the hitter once was and it reared back its head and let out a long ferocious howl.