I remained hidden, my body trembling in fear, finding shelter in absolute darkness. The encounter with the beast has shaken me to my core, for it is unlikely anything I had encountered before. I cowered further into the shadows, desperately trying to silence the sound of my own rapid breaths.

"Don't hide." A sinister voice echoed through the darkness, filled with malevolence. "I promise, your death will be quick and painless."

Its tone was laced with mockery, a predator toying with its prey. Each whisper felt more intimate, more insidious, as though the creature could see me even in the blackness. The air thickened with its presence, its heavy footsteps drawing closer, and the scrape of its claws caressing the stone on the walls.

"I know you're here," it growled, its voice dripping with malicious glee. "I can smell your fear."

The beast's words slithered into my mind, paralyzing me with terror. I held my breath, clinging to the hope that staying perfectly still would somehow make me invisible, though deep down, I knew the creature was closing in. Its breath was warm, humid, and impossibly close. The terror was all-consuming, a suffocating grip that squeezed tighter with each second.

I looked up towards the heavy metal door, as a horrifying sight greeted me. A pair of grotesque hands gripped the bars of the window, followed by a soft growl. I stared in disbelief at the grotesque hands, shaking the door with unrelenting force. Each shake sent a violent tremor through the walls, rattling the very foundation of my hiding place. The beast's strength was monstrous, the kind that could tear through steel given enough time. I began to succumb to my fate, every nerve in my body screaming for me to flee, but there was nowhere left to run.

Suddenly, the door went still, the shaking abruptly stopping as if something had frozen the creature in place. Then, the beast let out a bone-chilling howl, a sound so primal and terrifying that I instinctively covered my ears to block it out. The howl reverberated through the house, and in its wake, I heard something unexpected—a faint whimpering, like the pained cry of an injured animal, coming from upstairs.

I couldn't explain what compelled me to move, but the sight before me was beyond comprehension. The once fearsome beast was retreating. I watched in astonishment as it fled from the basement, abandoning its relentless pursuit as if something had suddenly spooked it. A heavy crash echoed above me as the beast shattered a window, followed by the panicked cries of the wolves scattering outside.

In the deafening silence that followed, I stood frozen, trying to make sense of the rapid shift in events. But the quiet was short-lived. Soft, deliberate footsteps began descending the stairs. The sound was lighter than the beast's heavy gait, almost careful as if whoever was coming down wanted me to know they were there.

"Hey, puppy." A familiar voice said, emerging from the darkness.

My heart raced, trying to make sense of the situation. The voice belongs to Mel, the girl I had encountered earlier.

"Mel?" I said. "What are you doing here?"

She approached the heavy metal door, following the sound of my voice. With a curious look, she peeked through the bars of the small window.

"Hey, you remember me, that's good to know! I know this is weird, but I need your help. Your cousins aren't playing nice, and things are getting messy."

"Cousins?" I asked, stepping out of the cell and joining her in the hallway. "I don't have any family here."

"Can you fight?" Mel asked, evading my response.

"I'm shaking in fear. How do you think I could help you against a monster like that?"

"It's not just one," she said. "There are at least three more werewolves in the house, and we're stuck down here with them."

"I'm sorry, I don't know how to fight."

Suddenly, my skin began to steam, and an intense heat radiated from deep within me. Profuse sweating followed, and an unbearable pain ripped through my body, forcing me to collapse onto my knees in front of Mel.

"What the hell is happening to me!"

Mel knelt beside me; her eyes wide with concern as she helped me stand. "Tobias, are you okay?" she asked, her hand resting on my burning face, gently caressing it. "Have you had a full transformation yet?"

"I have no idea what you are asking me," I said, grasping for air. The pain in my stomach grew more intense as I felt my bones cracking and shifting inside me.

"Don't fight it, let the transformation take over."

Mel quickly pushed me back into the cell and closed the metal door behind me. "These cells can only be locked from inside. I recommend you do that if you want to survive."

The ominous creaking of old wood grew louder, signaling the approach of the werewolves as they raced toward the basement. Faint red light filtered through the cracks of a wooden hatch in the ceiling, casting an eerie glow. The cramps in my muscles intensified, feeling the strange pull of the crimson moonlight against my skin.

"Pull the lever on your right! It will reinforce the door and open the hatch. The crimson moon will force your full transformation."

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My hands trembled as I reached for the lever. With a desperate pull, a series of metallic bars shot out from the walls, locking the door securely, and sealing me inside. At the same moment, the hatch above creaked open, and the full force of the crimson moonlight flooded the cell, bathing me in its powerful glow.

I heard the slam of another door, confirming my suspicion that Mel had taken refuge in one of the nearby cells. The crimson moon's eerie glow spilled into my cell, amplifying the agony surging through my body. My skin burned, my muscles spasmed uncontrollably as if something was trying to claw its way out from within.

The guttural growls of the approaching werewolves echoed louder, their stampede rattling the old wooden stairs. My heart pounded wildly, syncing with the thunderous steps. Pain, sharp and relentless, tore through me. My bones shifted and broke, twisting in ways I couldn't comprehend. I collapsed onto my hands and knees, gasping as my body began to betray me, reshaping itself under the crimson moon's cursed light.

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I slowly regained consciousness, the sensation of cold water splashing over my face jolting me back to reality. I found myself lying naked in a shallow creek, the water rushing over my feverish skin, offering brief moments of relief before evaporating almost instantly. It was already morning when I woke up, the rays of the sun absent, unable to penetrate the thick foliage of the trees.

"What the hell?" I said, staring down at my hands in disbelief. The reflection in the water showed a man—older, stronger, and vastly different from the skinny version of myself I once knew. My muscles were larger and more defined, and my body radiated a newfound power. Panic set in as I instinctively retreated from the water, stumbling backward to distance myself from the reflection of the stranger I had become.

Whispers filled the air around me, growing louder with each passing second. They were indistinct, overlapping voices that seemed to be coming from every direction at once. It was as if the very forest itself was alive, speaking directly to me in a language I couldn't yet understand. The symphony of voices flowed through my ears; my heightened senses were overwhelmed by their intensity. Everything was sharper—the sounds, the smells, the world around me teeming with secrets just beyond my grasp.

I stood up with significant effort, feeling the soreness in my legs, trying to find my balance. My knees creak and pop back into place, their movement in unison with my bones realigning themselves. Despite the discomfort, a surge of raw energy pulses through me, powerful and untamed. It feels as if something primal has awakened within, a force too strong to ignore.

As I knelt once again, exhaustion overwhelmed me, my muscles ached, and my breath was fast and heavy. It is in this vulnerable state that I catch a scent, one that is foreign and enthralling. A delicate blend of lavender and a hint of a metallic smell, intertwining in a way that makes my senses come alive. The aroma is both alluring and intoxicating, stirring a primal response deep within me. My mouth waters uncontrollably, driven by an urge I cannot explain.

The overcast sky cloaks the world in gloom, its heavy clouds casting a somber atmosphere, absent of any sunlight. Drawn by an instinct I don't fully understand, I follow the scent, my nose guiding me forward with a singular focus. The closer I get, the more intense and enveloping the aroma becomes, wrapping itself around my senses like a siren's call.

As I approach, the outline of a figure comes into view—a woman, slumped under an oak tree, clutching her side in visible pain. Her form is faintly illuminated by the dim light filtering through the trees, her presence stirring both curiosity and a deeper, inexplicable hunger within me.

"Mel?" I whispered, struggling to catch my breath. She glanced at me, a smile growing on her face, and her eyes gleaming with amusement.

"For your information, you're naked," she said, tossing a bag of clothes at me. "I grabbed those from the luggage left in your house. I figured you'd need something to wear after... that."

Embarrassed, I caught the bag and quickly turned around. Inside the bag, I found some old clothes of mine, pants, socks, and underwear.

"Really?" She said, her smirk widening as she watched my awkward attempt to cover up. "I've already seen you naked, you know."

"It's for my own personal reasons," I said, hastily putting on my pants.

"Knock yourself out."

I grabbed the pants and shirt from the bag, feeling an odd sense of familiarity with the clothes Mel had picked out, even though she didn’t know me that well. Glancing over my shoulder, I caught her carefully cleaning her injured arm. I wanted to say something and start a conversation, but my mind was blank. The only thing I could focus on was the awkward fit of the clothes she had given me.

"Um, I appreciate your help, but the pants are a bit small."

"At least you can cover that huge pecker. It will be enough until we return back to your house."

I sat down at the base of the tree, facing her. The scent of metal—sweet, sharp—drifted through the air from the bloody bandages she had discarded while tending to her wound. The smell was intoxicating, gripping me with an unsettling urge, stirring some thoughts I refused to believe, they were in my mind.

My heart pounded faster, each beat fueling a rising need that I couldn’t control. The temperature inside me spiked, and steam began to seep from my skin, as my hands trembled just at the sight of the open wound on her arm. The hunger was overpowering, much stronger than I could have imagined, forcing me to stare at her in ways I never thought I would.

"Please don't set yourself on fire," Mel said, her eyes widening as she watched the fangs forming in my mouth and the drool spilling from my lips. "You need to calm down."

She grabbed the bloody bandages from the ground and set them ablaze. The flames roared for a moment, and the intoxicating scent that had been driving me wild vanished, replaced by the acrid smell of burning fabric and blood.

"I'm sorry, I know you might need a meal, but I am not on the menu. So please, calm down."

I stood there, torn between the violent hunger gnawing at me and the strange pull I felt toward Mel. The burning blood stirred something dark and primal, feeding my rage and hunger. But alongside it was something deeper, more confusing—a new emotion I hadn't quite understood since the moment I met her—something that was calming and aggravating at the same time. The conflicting feelings stirred within me, making it hard to think straight.

"Mel... I don't know what's happening to me."

"The answer is simple: you just turned into a white wolf. And by the way, thank you," Mel said, holding a vial carrier in her hand.

"What is that?"

"Werewolf blood. Combined with a tonic made by the Grand Master, it will heal any injury in seconds without worrying about infection, pretty expensive stuff on the Dark Market," she said, placing the vials back in her backpack.

Mel stood up from her side of the tree and sat beside me, her fingers brushing my feverish skin. "Wow," she whispered, clearly in awe. "Your hands are on fire."

The moment her hands touched mine, a calming sensation coursed through my body. The feverish heat I had been feeling ebbed away, replaced by a strange, comforting warmth radiating from her. Her touch wasn’t just cooling me—it was grounding me, easing the turmoil inside.

"What happened last night?"

"You transformed, puppy. You became the wolf you were always meant to be."