Do you know what itís like, to have a demon inside of you? I
Do you remember, back when you were a child, all those fairy stories that your
parents used to tell you? Well, maybe fairy stories is the wrong phrase. Fairy
story means it has a happy ending, with the hero or heroine skipping off into
the sunset. People donít die in fairy tales either. No, what I mean are the
other ones, the darker stories, about the monsters that live under your bed, or
the demons that hunt at night and will gobble you up if youíre not in bed in
time. The stories of Dragons and the Knightís who slew them. The stories of the
werewolves who hunt in the hills, or the vampire in the ruins of an old castle.
At the time, you donít think much of them. Theyíre fun stories that give you
the shivers, things your parents tell you to get you to do what they want you
to, or to get you to be quiet. The thing is though, some of them arenít
stories. It seems a stupid thing to say, I know, and I also know that in all
likelihood, you wonít believe a word Iím saying. But it is the truth, I swear
My name is Peter, and I am cursed.
When I was sixteen, I was bitten by a werewolf. Now, donít go yet, hear me out.
I was walking home from a party at my friends house, and I was drunk. Yes, I know
sixteen is too young to be drinking, but we all did it. I hadnít had that much,
I mean, I could still walk, but Iíd had enough to seriously mess around with my
logic. When I heard the noise in the bushes, I thought that it would be a smart
idea to go check what it was. That was how drunk I was, that I was willing to
go creeping into a moving bush in the middle of the nights.
This isÖwhere is gets a bit hazy. I canít remember clearly what happened after
that. I remember hearing the panting breath, I remember being knocked to the
ground and I remember the burning sensation as the teeth closed around my wrist
and my blood running down my arm. What I donít remember is how I got away from
the beast, back home and into my bed. It sounds stupid, I know, but itís the
honest truth. I just remember waking up with a splitting headache, my wrist
bandaged and vague memories of what had happened.
I didnít tell anyone about it, of course. You donít, when youíre that age. I
thought Iíd got rabies at first, I thought I was going to die. Even after a few
days had gone past, and it became clear that it couldnít possibly be rabies, I
was still paranoid about it. I kept it quiet though, wearing long sleeved
shirts and covering it in cream every day, hoping it would heal. It did as
well, unnaturally fast too. There were only a few marks by the end of a week,
and it had totally healed by the end of the second. No trace, none at all. I
even began to think that Iíd gotten away with it.
Then the next full moon rolled around. I started to feel a bit odd a few days
before hand. First I noticed that I needed to shave more often, and that my
nails were growing faster too. Then I got hot and sweaty and my mum said I was
coming down with a fever. Hah. I wish. When the full moon came, I was lying in
my bed with the curtains open, the moonlight streaming down onto my face.
I canít quite describe what it feels like to change, except that itís agony
like youíve never known. Itís like your skin is being turned inside out, and
that your body wants to explode. Youíre bones re-shape themselves, your
muscles, hair and teeth grow incredibly fast. It is unbearable agony, all the
way. Ave you ever had a broken bone? Imagine what that feels like, but with
every bone in your body as they reform. Every hair that grows is like a
razor-sharp spine thrusting out of your flesh. Itís hell.
And when itís done, you are left so hungry. For your body to do something like
that, it requires a huge amount of energy. And so youíre left there, alone,
with no experience of this, your brain being over-ridden by your feral
instincts, desperately hungry for food.
I donít want to tell you what I did that first night. I couldnít anyway, even
if I wanted to. I think my subconscious has hidden it away, deep below the
surface where I canít get at it. Iím glad of that, too. All I know was that
when I woke up, myself again, I was lying naked in some back alley somewhere.
And I reeked of blood. Do you know what itís like, to have done something like
that but to have no memory? To know that you must have killed but not knowing
who or where they are? In some ways, itís even worse than the pain of the
transformation. At least that lasts only a few minutes, this feeling never goes
I suppose you want me to tell you that I went home after that, back to my
loving and caring family who sympathised with me and promised to help me in
everyway they could. I didnít though. I never went back there. I couldnít, not
after what Iíd done. I lived on the streets for a long time, begging for food
and clothes, dreading each full moon and what it brought with it. I ran for so
long, trying to escape from what I was that I almost forgot who I was.
Do you know what the worst thing was? I started to enjoy it. I canít remember
when it first happened, but I just know that at one point I started to enjoy
what I became. I stopped fighting it and embraced the thing inside of me. I
found out that you donít have to transform just on a full moon, you can do it
anytime of the night of day, if you want to badly enough. Food, always an issue
for the homeless, stopped being a problem around about then. It stopped being a
problem for a lot of other homeless people too, they lost all of their problems
once they met me in a darkened alley way.
Iím 34 now. Iíve been this way for more than half of my life. I embrace it,
revel in it, live for it. Iím more wolf than man now, I think. The feral
instinct is with me all the time, I canít get rid of it. Even when Iím in human
form I still have the burning hunger. I hate myself, I hate what Iíve become,
but itís too deep within me to fight it anymore.
So I am asking you.
I may look human to you now, but believe me, Iím not. It is taking all my will
to stay this way. I needÖI need you to do for me what I cannot. Youíre marked
now, I know your scent. If you donít kill me, Iíll kill you. Tonight. Please,
end it for me now. Save your own life, and God only knows how many others.
Donít let this nightmare go on any longer.