It’s Tough Being A Wolf

“You can change if you like, you humans. Stop drinking, stop using, go to a 12-step process. It’s so easy. But every full moon, I change. I become the wolf and I kill. There’s no 12-step program to quit being a werewolf. There’s no quitting what I am.”

Tati nodded to the bottles on the floor. “I drank all that: a quart and a half of vodka, a fifth of Scotch, I don’t know how much beer. I must have passed out cold about midnight. I don’t remember any of it.”

She picked up the only unbroken glass on the table and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, ricocheting shards everywhere.

“I can’t remember getting blind drunk, but I can tell you that the full moon rose at seventeen minutes after one. When it did, I was nearly to the woods. The moon came over the edge of the valley and I felt myself transforming into the beast. I felt the booze in my system metabolize in an instant and I felt alive and powerful. The anger and the vodka and the meth were gone, replaced by the single-minded certainty that I was the master of the forest – and that I would kill.”


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