Code note - The transformation of Carl happens here and I just wanted to get it over - In 'An American Werewolf in London' I will never forget how David morphing into a werewolf. I don't think it's easy but a VERY painful process that with time becomes bearable. The details I have about the morphing will only be explained in this chapter alone (no future chapters, I think). I felt so bad doing this to Carl *sob*.

"Party Like A Rockstar"

Carl blinks his eyes and focuses in on the face in his room.

"Oh good, you're awake," she says and walks around his room, touching and opening things.

Carl watches her, "For the time being, I'm tired."

She makes her way towards him, "That's normal; you'll be sleeping a lot until you turn."

"Yes, the full moon is near," Carl says ominously then frown, "I've been hearing that and the word turn a lot lately."

"That's because it's near," Her eyes go round as saucers when she said near.

Carl says nothing to this.

"I always thought something magical happens on a full moon, especially if it falls on a harvest."

Again, Carl says nothing to that bit of news.

The girl smiles as she begins to spin around the room, "We got these stars and planets and wonders in front of our very eyes, it's beautiful, I never thought the moon to be spooky too."

"Can you stop spinning; I can't seem to focus on you like you're all over the place."

The girl stops spinning and got serious, "A spooky moon for a werewolf."

"I wouldn't say spooky. I am scared."

"Exactly!"

"You're not making any sense."

She shrugs her shoulders and walks around his room again, "So I've been told."

"If you've been told this then maybe try speaking clearly," Carl suggested.

She looks at Carl and frowns, "That's because like them you're not listening. How are you feeling?"

Carl shrugs his shoulders and winces in pain, "I feel fine, normal."

She smirks, "Normal? But you're no longer normal, Carl. Tell me, how you are really feeling."

"Like shit, everything hurts and for some reason everyone is so damn loud, it's giving me a headache."

"All the aching you're feeling is your bones. You'll have better senses and you should be able to practically hear a pin drop soon enough. Can you see me?"

Carl blinks a few times, "Not really," he pauses to study her, "You're pretty."

"Do you remember me?"

"I haven't lost my mind if that's what you're asking. You look kind of fuzzy but still pretty."

The girl chuckles and makes her way toward him and takes a seat beside him. "I haven't heard that one, fuzzy and pretty."

Carl's stomach grumbles, "I am hungry. Would you let my dad or Michonne or someone know? It seems they are the only ones that want to be near me."

"Don't take it personal, it was a request by your father, he is an intimidating man but good, he loves you."

Carl has always known this, "He is quite intimidating, the whole beard thing is new too and I know he loves me, I love him too."

"Daryl has visits, but you're asleep when he comes by and I did see Michonne on her way to the kitchen to get you something so hunger no more."

"Good," Carl said.

"Tell me something Carl, how are your dreams?"

Carl does not want to think about his dreams, "My dreams are scary, confusing. I dream about death, dying and my mother too."

She is again moving about his room, "Your mother? Really, tell me about her."

Carl frowns, "I would rather not."

"Talking helps." She reaches out and tries to moves his hair from his face.

The sudden movement startles Carl as she was just walking around his room and now here she isright in front of him.

Carl then moves his head away from her; he did this only from her trying to touch his face, "Don't do that."

"Does your face bother you?"

"It bothers me and everyone else; I can see it written on their faces. Pity, sadness."

She leans forward just a few inches separate the two, "And what does my eyes say when I see you as you."

Carl looks into her eyes and saw nothing and felt disappointment, "I see nothing."

She blinks her eyes, "And now?"

He can see himself in her eyes now but with her. They were sitting somewhere, a field maybe. He was saying something to her that made her laugh, "I am confused, how the hell did you do that?"

She shrugs, "It's how you want people to see you Carl."

"So, you see me courting you or something."

She laughs, "Courting, that sounds so ancient and sweet."

Carl laughs too.

She began to gently shake him, "Carl?"

"Hmm?"

"Carl? Wake up, wake up Carl."

"I'm awake."

"Nice try." The voice says, "That would involve you opening your eyes."

Focusing his eyes again Carl realizes that the girl was gone and it was Michonne leaning over him shaking him.

"Where did she go?" He asks looking around his room.

"Who?" She inquires confusion written on her face while opening the curtains in his room. Sunlight pours in, shedding all senses of gloom from the room.

"The girl with the red hair, or reddish blonde, I can't tell."

"Sorry kiddo, it's just me. I do hope that's okay." Michonne walks back to the table where a seating for one was laid out and takes a sit and pour a cup of tea.

"Ah yes, Michonne you're good company." Carl says as he sits up to get out of bed.

"Good. Because I thought you only like me because I make sure you are fed."

Carl laughs then takes a seat across from her and lifts the serving dome off from his plate, "What did Eugene make for me."

"A whole meat pie with little less veggies, per you request. Speaking of eating, I thought afterwards we two can go outside and take in some good ole fashion natural city air."

"About that city air…" His voice trails off.

Michonne takes a sip from her cup, "Yes, tell me about that city air."

"Which kind of city air are we in?"

"Well we're in New York for a few days, so good ole New York city air. You can see several buildings being built on the horizon, a triangular piece right at the heart of the city."

Carl sigh, "Can I just stay here?" He takes a huge bite of his meal.

Michonne detects pieces of raw meat in the golden crust and wonder how Eugene manages to bake a crust so perfectly and leaving all that meat bloody raw.

"You can but you've been hiding in this room for nearly a week now. Vitamin C and D would do you good."

Carl had no intention of going outside, "You say hiding like it's a bad thing."

"Well isn't it."

"Not for me it's not."

Carl truly like Michonne, introducing herself as simply Michonne and he has been calling her that ever since. Within just the short time of officially meeting her she had managed to fill in the holes of everything they have done in getting him back. She had painted a better picture than his dad. She had even spoken of herself as an omen that has yet to turn sour and thought it best moving forward for everyone to think of her as good luck; she looked right at Daryl when she said that only to have Daryl look away. Carl couldn't help but to laugh since he was all too familiar with Uncle Daryl and his vices especially that any women on the ship being bad omen. What he likes the most about Michonne was that she didn't push or pressure and he doesn't mind when she visits.

Michonne can see that his hair was covering part of his face and contemplates bringing up trimming his hair but changes her mind, "Scars fade."

Nearly done with the first plate Carl can sense her watching him, "Not these scars."

"Well how about air of mystery."

Carl reaches for the second dome plate and lifts the cover off and unsurprisingly, it's another meat pie. The darn thing tastes so damn good and Carl hate himself for salivating for it.

"I'm a mystery? How can that be when everyone knows what I'll become?"

"That is true but you don't have to make that side of you bring you down."

"I'm not down or sad Michonne, I'm angry."

"I have this saying when someone talks of anger: Anger makes you stupid and stupid gets you killed."

"Well my anger is from a place of rage and I am aware."

"Well that is good, it is also alarming, but I can understand," she said as she takes another sip from her cup.

"I don't think you understand at all."

Michonne sighs and places her cup back on the saucer, "Carl I am all too familiar with anger coming from a place of rage. I have had anger too and it has all came from a place of rage and frustration. Look at this place, the times are changing and yet places still continue to treat us Black people differently, unfairly, unjust and it is especially hard for Black women. So, I wise up, I change the rules and made a name for myself and I was smart about it and you can be smart about it too without having to get yourself killed over it."

Carl was quiet. She's right, he thought, "Michonne?"

"Carl?"

"I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"But I am going to kill him."

Michonne knew this him he speaks off and nods her head, "I believe you."

"Don't get in my way."

Michonne chuckles, "Seeing the way you eat, there is no way I would want to get in your way."

Carl stops the fork mid air and looks down at himself; a huge area of his shirt was covered in sauce, "Okay so I'm a mess, no harm in a bit of cleaning up afterwards."

"Good idea, clean up and then fresh city air. Good ole city air," Michonne inhales and exhales to prove her point.

Carl sighs, god only knows he's been sighing a lot, "Michonne I hurt all over and I just want to sleep after I eat."

Michonne places her cup back on its saucer and sits back, "ALL I hear are reasons not to go out there. Pain is a state of mind Carl."

"Yeah well this pain is to the bones and channeling it won't do me any good."

Michonne wasn't going to push the issue anymore and told him so, but she could see Carl's mind was busy working; he was beginning to rub his forehead and doing the half frown half scowl like his father.

"Your father is doing everything he can to make sure you do no harm to yourself and others," Michonne says in reassurance.

"I see it and I hear it, you guys should try whispering."

Michonne raises her brown, "But we do whisper."

"Well I can hear everything." Carl made sure to emphasize on the word everything as he eyes Michonne, his mind was working, "If I do this fresh air bit with you, you'll never ask me about it again?"

"Well," Michonne dragged on the word well before continuing, "I am not sure I won't ask again but we can work out the terms of this deal later."

"Ha! I have some terms," Carl says waving the whole thing away; he wanted to talk about something more serious and that involves his dad and not city air.

"Really? That was fast or you must have been thinking about it."

"I wasn't kidding when I said I can hear everything."

Michonne whispered "He's going to change his mind" under her breath.

Carl smile at what she said, "You have my word Michonne, I won't back out, and I'll go outside if you answer this."

Michonne's eyes go round, she barely spoke the words of him backing out but Carl was able to pick up on it. 'This should be interesting' she thought while getting comfortable in her seat and wait for Carl to ask her whatever it is that he needed the answer too.

"Michonne, I've heard the way my dad speaks of you and seen the way you are together the few times you've both been in the room together, something is evidently up between you and my dad."

"Is that a question or stating an observation?"

"Well it's both. What is it then, you and dad are…" Carl ends it there and digs into his plate of food.

"Your father and I are…Something; some things are up with your father and me," she confesses, "Did he avoid the conversation with you when you've brought it up with him?"

Carl looks up, his food mid level to his mouth, well he wasn't expecting her to answer, he really thought she was going to work herself right into a whole different conversation.

"No, I took a chance and asked you but I had every intentions of asking him."

"What made you decide to ask me?"

"Because you don't mince your words and dad speaks fondly of you, all the timeand especially the way he looks at you too. You both don't think I'm looking but I see everything and I don't want to get into the details of your nightly conversations."

Michonne is all too familiar with Rick's stares and chuckles, "Are you sure you're not confusing that look he gives me with one of his intense stares."

Carl laughter rang out in the room. "Intense stares my ass, I know those ones too. I'm talking about the looks of love."

Michonne nearly chokes and not from the curse word; she'll give him a pass for that one, "What do you know of looks of love."

Carl shrugs, "I know enough, saw a bit of it when my parents were happy. I'm happy he is happy again; he is not as hard on the crew as before. I approve."

"You approve? But we don't even know what all this is."

Carl nod, "Yes, I approve, you're good in my book. Besides you're not going anywhere and neither is my dad, he is kind of slow in the whole courting game, I am pretty sure he is just making things up along the way. It's been a while for him."

"I cannot believe I am having this conversation with you."

"I'm not ten and I see things, so who better than having this kind of conversation with the son himself. Wait until you meet grandmother and we all know she would want to meet you."

Michonne is all too familiar with the role of mother she could not wait to see how her mother speaks to Rick.

Carl was thoughtful for a minute, "Has my dad ever told you how he lost his arm?"

Michonne shakes her head.

"Hmm now that was a dozy, scandal and everything. I'm surprise he hasn't told you yet. It's one of the reasons, may have been the only reason he sent me away to flight school at a young age."

Michonne would rather hear from Rick on how he lost his arm. They spoke about her childhood, the tournament, and Carl few good times he had at flight school, the girls he had his eyes on and the classes he was excelling in.

After he ate, Michonne thought Carl was going to try to excuse himself from walking the deck of the ship, but true to his words Michonne left Carl be so he could clean up and be ready to breathe in some good ole city air.

Rick and Daryl had just walked into the building and demanded an audience Governor of New York and her lackeys as it was the only available time they had. They had never seen the city official assistants scramble around to get the movers and shakers to their meeting.

The coffee that sat before him has already gone cold; Rick tried to pay attention 'I am here may as well brave through all this ass kissers.' Rick thought as he sat through the meeting all the while fiddling with his pocket watch, wondering what Michonne and his son was doing, wondering if crew and The Bandit Hunter were okay. Rick notices Daryl trying to stifle a yawn; this meeting was a courtesy and a snooze fest as they tried to listen to the city officials sweet talk their way into their pockets again with some questionable investments. However boring the meeting may have been, Rick and Daryl forge through it; both evidently glad once it was concluded.

As they are leaving, Rick turns to see Governor Monroe and her two bodyguards were walking down the marble steps to meet up with them.

"Look sharp Rick, another desperate plea in reconsideration is about to happen," Daryl whispers.

Once reaching them, The Governor sticks her gloved hand out and smiles, "It is always a pleasure to see you both. We should do lunch."

"The pleasure is ours," Daryl said and takes her hand briefly before releasing it.

"Would you let the office know if you can make lunch next week?" she presses further.

Daryl raises his brow and gives Rick an 'I knew it' look.

"Governor, I cannot guarantee nor commit to anything for this or next week or anytime in the near future as our time is scarce. I was only here to pick up something then we are off but I'll have our assistant call your office to see if we can schedule something," Rick replies.

Daryl raises his brow as if to ask what assistant, but Rick discreetly shakes his head at him.

"Wonderful, wonderful." She gleefully smiles.

Opting not to make a show of saying bye by bowing or kissing her gloved hand, Rick raise his cane and tips his hat to the Governor, "Always a pleasure, Governor."

The doorman opens the door for them and wishes them both a nice day, as they respond in kind. The two men exit the office building and Rick looks up at the recently installed clock tower in all its shiny brass glory he then pulls out his pocket watch to make sure the time was the same, feeling satisfied he places his watch back in his breast pocket and they make their way to their bikes.

"God, I hate going to those things. I swear they only see dollar signs," Daryl points out as he removes his top hat and places it in the compartment under his seat. Rick closes his cane and drops it in the compartment with his top hat and coat; he was already lifting the kickstand to his bike.

Daryl faces Rick, "Well caveman Rick, you know, since we are in the city maybe you could groom that mop of hair on your head and all that on your face too." Daryl motion with his hand the bottom half of his face, "I have never seen it this long."

Rick chuckles, "Caveman Rick, what are you trying to say? It's not that bad?"

"Not bad? Rick it was a meeting, so I thought you'd, you know, do something with all that." Daryl makes another motion of circling his face.

Rick thought of how the ladies in the office building were looking at him, they were all smiling and fidgeting with their collars. He could have sworn that one of the assistants had even inhaled sharply when he had asked what room the meeting was in. He thought he sensed their eyes following them all the way up the stairs too. Rick took that as a good sign.

Rick eyes the close crop cut of Daryl's hair, "So you would favor something more like yours? Is it even in fashion?"

Daryl laughs as he touches his head, "What do you even know about fashion? At least my hair doesn't get in the way of things."

"Says the man who, as of late, been fussing with his appearance since meeting Ms. Williams? Besides I've gotten no complaints, ladies love these curls," Rick chuckles.

'Well one in particular,' Rick thought.

Daryl raises his brow at the ladies loves part, but says nothing; instead, he takes the portfolio Rick hands him and places it below his hat and closes the seat compartment, "You really want to look over them?"

"I enjoy how quickly you can change the subject when I bring up Ms. Williams."

"I can bring up Ms. Brownfield just as easily."

With a huge grin on his face, Rick sits idly on his bike and crosses his arm, "Sure, what would you like to know?"

"Okay then, fine. So is it serious because you still have the ring on your hand?"

'Well damn to hell Daryl really went there,' Rick thought.

Daryl then went in for the kill, so to speak, "Well if it is any consolation or grief, half the crew is also in awe of Ms. Brownfield. Seems like some of the unwed have a bit of feelings for her. So there is that."

The smile was replaced with a scowl on Rick's face. Reaching up towards his face he begins to scratch at his beard with his prosthetic hand, "You know, at first I thought she didn't want nice, just the other day I think she was hinting at wanting something more."

Daryl frowns at Rick, "So you're taking advantage of Ms. Brownfield?"

"Oh Christ no, I would never do that. I care for Michonne deeply, too deeply in fact."

"Well figure it out before someone finds out and turns it into another scandal." Daryl did not want to remind Rick of the past, but he probably needed a reminder.

Rick grimaces at how the mood has shifted from silly banter to prickly thoughts of the past. Daryl really did not want to know anything as he regretted bringing up the whole new appearance thing with Rick. Now he was eager to change the subject.

"Listen, it's your life which is far from boring, tell her how you feel."

"Well hell Daryl, look at you. Giving me all kinds of advice."

Rick, feeling thoughtful, begins to press a few buttons on his bike; the engine roars.

'Guess the conversation is over,' Daryl thought as he follows suit.

Daryl then changes the subject, "Rick, we did well in steel. Maybe something good is somewhere in all that paperwork," he shouts as he lifts the kickstand to his bike.

"Well, no harm in looking at it then maybe something would catch the eye."Rick shouts over the noise of their bikes.

Their bikes hovers idly as the two men simultaneously place their gloves, goggles and helmets on.

Rick looks over at Daryl with a grin on his face.

Daryl frowns and shouts "Don't! For the love of God please."

Rick has already link the music to his helmet and there it was, some guy singing his action being packed blasting through the men helmet speakers. He snaps his fingers to the beat of the music.

'Where does he find this kind of music if it's even called that.' Daryl wonders.

Daryl tries to turn the darn thing off but Rick had locked the setting, he probably has the darn thing on loop too."How are we going to know if the ship sends a message if that is blasting?"

"We'll hear them just fine, just enjoy the music," Rick answers back.

"I'm gonna kill you and I'll enjoy doing that," Daryl shouts at him.

"Last one back is a rotten egg," Rick shouts back instead.

"What are we? Ten? That's really childish Rick; I'm not doing this shit with you," Daryl shouts, but then he shifts the gear with his right wrist and takes off before Rick could say otherwise grinning as he speedsoff.

The two men were arguing about who was the true winner as they park their bikes below deck. They were still going at it as they made their way up the narrow corridors stairs leading to the top of the deck.

"Grown man cheating is what I say," Rick said and playfully taps Daryl head with his cane.

"Hey those are dueling words," Daryl pointed out.

"Do you even know how to duel?" Rick asks.

The men stops in their tracks as they took in the sight in front of them. Michonne was walking about the deck with Carl; the crew were trying to look busy as they were in awe like them as well. Rick caught her eyes and she tilts her head towards Carl.

"Holy shit, how did she get him to leave his room?" Daryl exclaimed.

Rick shakes his head and looks at Michonne in astonishment.

It was the evening of the full moon and everyone on The Bandit Hunter were busy and in arms with each other. Michonne had just gotten back from the city; she was there to ship a parcel to her parents, she even had a moment of déjà vu when she left the postal office. She could have sworn she saw the girl that was watching over Carl back at the Hilltop. She was walking across the street from her but thought nothing of it. When she walks back on the ship she could tell how everyone on the ship was walking on eggshells around the two men. They were short with each other and everyone else. Daryl was feeding off of Rick's energy and Rick was doing the same.

Daryl mutters his apologies first just to get it out of the way but Rick did apologize when he knew he was in the wrong but he gave up after the fifth one. No one was safe, not even poor Eugene and all he wanted to know is if he should have food brought down to Carl. The only one they spared was both Michonne and Jesus because they knew better. Jesus was in the middle of explaining the modification he made to a few nitro charge clips he had fabricated, the whole point was to maim Carl and not explode at point of entry, and they were instructed to only use if things go horribly wrong. He had also playfully mention how extra slippery his hands had been and Michonne was too fast with her sword; they wouldn't have felt the sword piercing body parts until afterward. Yeah, Rick and Daryl knew better.

They had already moved Carl to the cell they had assembled in his cabin a few hours ago; Rick couldn't bear watching Carl enter so he left immediately after. Michonne had even tried to make everything comfortable for him. A cot was in the corner and a tray with all his favorite food was placed on a small table. Carl did try to lie down but even that hurt and he wasn't that hungry. He touched the bars and his fingers were singed by the mere contact.

"Okay, avoid the bars," he says out loud.

The hair on the back of his neck felt prickly as he felt his senses begin to heighten. He began to pace back and forth; he was doing this when the girl that had visited him from before wanted to stay and chat.

"Hi," he says and tries to smile but his face felt uncomfortable.

"Hi," she said with a bit of sadness.

"Why are you sad? I'm the one in the cell."

"Because I am."

"Now who's the one feeling pity for me now?" Carl made an attempt to frown but gives up and begins to pace again.

"I'm not feeling sorry for you, I am sad because I can't help you."

"No one can help me."

"Your father seems to have the right idea. It will be painful for you both," she eyes the pieces of flesh stuck to the cell.

"I know, stay away from the bars."

"You'll stay away from it. For now," she shrugs her shoulder.

Carl stops pacing and scratches his forehead then at his arm; he wasn't really itchy. "What's your name again?"

"You forgot already? I asked you if you remember me," she sulks as she leans into the cell but doesn't touch it.

"I thought it was about something else."

"No, it wasn't. I am whoever you need me to be."

Carl doesn't know what he need as he starts to scratch behind his ear and begin to pace the floor again, "I need a friend. Can you be a friend and get me something for this pain."

She abruptly faces Carl, "I will always be your friend."

The sudden movement of the girl startles Carl and he steps back, "Could you stop doing that."

"I can't help it, it's my thing." She steps back

"Well your thing is annoying."

"That hurts but I will give you that one."

Carl says nothing and once again begins to pace. He really tries to make an attempt to carry a conversation with her but he wasn't in the mood for company as the pain was starting to get uncomfortable. She gives him her word that she'll return and left him.

Sitting hurts and pacing seems to calm the anxiety he's feeling now. Then everything around Carl got unbearably loud, the way his feet hits the floor, the wind in the sails, he could even hear his dad giving orders like he was right there screaming it in his ear, he covers his ears with his hands and screams for everyone to shut up. Then his sight begins to focus in on another room that seems so familiar yet couldn't place it. Then everything went in and out of focus, as he felt his pupils and irises shift. He shuts his eyes tightly and opens them again and frowns when that did not change anything.

"Great, my eyes move and I can't see shit." He kicks the cell and howls in pain as more pieces of his flesh stick to the bars. Carl stood there in fear and shock, he looks down at his toes where it once had his skin is now bloody but there wasn't any blood oozing from the wound.

'Oh hell. I'm howling and I'm losing my skin. Oh this is bad, really really bad.' He can hear his heart beat each beat louder and faster.

"Okay, on top of the pain, my sight is going in and out. Hearing is at an ungodly level and now my own skin is slowly coming off. Now what?" Carl shouts in the empty room.

Sensing the cosmos may have heard him, the room begins to get hot and Carl realizes it wasn't the room but him, he was practically burning up, like hell is his new company. He strips down to his knickers but that did not help at all.

'Brave through it Carl,' he tells himself as he went back to pacing and chews on his nails. He stops almost immediately when he hears movements above him. He focuses his attention on the footsteps as they come down the stairs and then to the hand reaching and opening his cabin door.

He had an audience of his dad, Michonne, and Daryl. Jesus soon follows and closes the door behind him. By this time Carl had chewed all the nails off his fingers, he didn't notice that they were a bloody mess and he is drenched from head to toe from his own sweat; his brown hair plastered to his head.

"Hey, dad," Carl tries to smile but the greeting fell short as he begins to pace again. He needs to relax. Things are happening and pacing helps to focus on something else; he tries to ignore the beating of his heart, it feels like it's about to explode. Then there is that low ringing in his ear. Carl scratches at his ears and the ringing grows louder.

"Hey, Carl," Rick says as he makes his way to the cell and wraps his hands around the bar.

"Don't! You'll burn your hand," Carl warns but when he saw his dad hands are okay, the realization registers.

"Good thinking, I'd silver the whole damn place too," he says and begins to pace again.

The ringing in his ear grows louder. He stops in his tracks.

"This ringing won't go away and my heart feel like it's about to explode."

Carlthinks he can hear his dad say something but doesn't care; he is back to pacing the room again.

Carl stops mid pace and faces his dad. There is complete terror on his face as every single bone in his body shifts and cracks at the same time, it was subtle but agonizing. He felt his jaw crack and tries to soothe it but then the bones in his hands crack and dislocate themselves from each joint. At the same time, the bones at the back of his neck and along his spine and ribcage shift roughly forward and back and Carl screams in agony.

He can feel and hear every single bone in his body breaking within him, his legs, arms, eye sockets, every fucking thing. Carl falls to the floor and continues to scream for someone to take it away, to take the pain away. He says this as he rips at his skin, the flesh falls to the floor as hair follicles sprout then grow rapidly in its place. Carl wanted to die and express so verbally over and over again.

"Holy shit," Daryl says to both Michonne and Jesus.

"Holy shit is right," Jesus said in agreement. Michonne can almost taste her late lunch trying to make an appearance but she swallows a few times and gives herself a hug.

Carl arches his back as his spine shifts again, he raises his head which begins to elongate as he gets on all fours. His spine and legs shift then dislocate themselves and Carl falls to the floor again, the can feel his bones slowly realigns, everything felt like it was being pulled from its sockets, his hand and fingers, his legs too felt like they were being ripped out as they stretch and elongate on its own.

Rick was low to the ground on his stomach in tears calling out to his son; he could not believe what he is witnessing. A nightmare right before their very own eyes, but this is Carl, his son. Rick calls out to him again and again; he wanted him to know he was there. Rick had managed to get his son attention but one look in his eyes, that were once light brown but now a bright yellow, and Rick knew that he was no longer his, he has lost his son to the full moon.

Carl howls.

It felt like an eternity a painfully long ten minutes of horror and screaming and crying and now they were all staring at a werewolf. Standing on all fours, the werewolf lays his head low to the ground, the distinctive scars were prominent from eyes to snout, it was the only area that wasn't fully covered in fur. It begins to sniff at the pieces of flesh on the floor and begins to eat it, once everything was gone it then howls and rams at the cell, burning itself in the process. The room slowly smelling like burnt hair and flesh, the werewolf does this again and again but gives up and paces the room, his yellow eyes glaring at them all. Dumbfounded, they all stare as the animal growls low, foaming at the mouth, stops pacing and rams into the cell again; the yellow eyes continues to glare at them all. The werewolf then claws roughly at the ground leaving its claw marks there and howls, only to stop abruptly and rams itself into the bars again; it was trying to get out. Rick understands now why Jesus wanted to make the spaces lengthwise smaller.

Emotions were running high in the room, especially with Rick, he is on his back quiet, listening to hisson, the animal howls as it claws and tries to ram his way out. He stares up at the ceiling of his son's room and makes a silent promise to kill Negan at the first change he got.

Dwight, Arat and Simon, from the safety of The Screams of Lucille, watch as their leader changes quickly and goes off on a hunt and a chase.

"I bet you fifty bucks this Carl is having a really rough go with his turn," Simon says.

Dwight frowns, "No shit, all first times are a bitch, I'm not taking that stupid bet."

"Well I bet you Negan's going to kill a few Alexandrians tonight," Arat adds.

Both men turn to face her.

Simon thinks for a minute, "Three deaths."

Arat raises four fingers, "Four." Then she faces Dwight, "You want in on this bet Dwight?"

"Naw, I pass," he says and leaves the two and makes his way back to his cabin.

Again, a giant thank you to Siancore! What did you guys think, let me know. Code :)