Post by Bastion Davis on Aug 3, 2009 15:50:50 GMT -5
There was only the sound of silent wind slithering through the floorboards and cracked windows. That and the ragged breathing of a young man, caught in the thin crossfire of human and werewolf. He sat cross-legged on the bare floor of the Shrieking Shack, away from his friends, away from anyone he couldn't bare to hurt. It was routine, wait for everyone to go out on recon, or wait until they went to sleep. So close was the moon, showed the dying rays of sunlight that filtered into the depressing room. Just hours before he became an uncontrollable monster once more.
It seemed like years since his last transformation. It was a scarring one, one that would be imprinted in his mind for the rest of his days. Stupid child, he shouldn't have wandered into a haunted building. Not on the night of a full moon. Bastion sighed and shook the memory away. He needed to focus on tonight. He needed to prevent that from happening again.
He slumped against a tattered bed and rested his face against his knees. It was an uncomfortable position, with his chest heaving with terrified breaths. A whimper here and there escaped his lips, but he refrained from speaking. Just a little bit longer. It would be over soon. Just a little bit...
"Who's there?" he called, standing up and pulling his wand from the pocket of his black traveling cloak. He could hear the faint shifting of feet, the gentle swish of clothing against skin, who's--what's--skin, he did not know. But whoever it was was not safe. Not with the faint ivory light that was slowly beginning to kill the bloodstained rays of the sun. Bastion raised his wand, ignited the tip and the room was bathe in the bright light of his illumination charm.
The clock was ticking in a figurative sense. Whoever was approaching would be killed if the didn't leave. "You've been warned," Bastion growled, his voice cracked with desperation, "If you don't turn back now, you'll never see the sun rise again." His threat was not as empty as it seemed. No mortal could survive a werewolf attack, especially a werewolf who had no potion to retain his humanity during the feral state. "Just leave," he begged.
It seemed like years since his last transformation. It was a scarring one, one that would be imprinted in his mind for the rest of his days. Stupid child, he shouldn't have wandered into a haunted building. Not on the night of a full moon. Bastion sighed and shook the memory away. He needed to focus on tonight. He needed to prevent that from happening again.
He slumped against a tattered bed and rested his face against his knees. It was an uncomfortable position, with his chest heaving with terrified breaths. A whimper here and there escaped his lips, but he refrained from speaking. Just a little bit longer. It would be over soon. Just a little bit...
"Who's there?" he called, standing up and pulling his wand from the pocket of his black traveling cloak. He could hear the faint shifting of feet, the gentle swish of clothing against skin, who's--what's--skin, he did not know. But whoever it was was not safe. Not with the faint ivory light that was slowly beginning to kill the bloodstained rays of the sun. Bastion raised his wand, ignited the tip and the room was bathe in the bright light of his illumination charm.
The clock was ticking in a figurative sense. Whoever was approaching would be killed if the didn't leave. "You've been warned," Bastion growled, his voice cracked with desperation, "If you don't turn back now, you'll never see the sun rise again." His threat was not as empty as it seemed. No mortal could survive a werewolf attack, especially a werewolf who had no potion to retain his humanity during the feral state. "Just leave," he begged.
