White Weewoos don't exist. *shifty eyes* Circulation: 185,748,728 Issue: 500 | 24th day of Relaxing, Y13
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The Fall


by dianacat777

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I'm a Werelupe.

     What? Did you want a grand fanfare? A bit of warning? Well, sorry to disappoint. I've got enough on my paws right now as it is, without catering to random-Neopians-like-yourselves' wishes.

     Technically, I'm not a Werelupe yet. But I will be in about five minutes. There's nothing anyone can do to save me, not anymore. It's too late.

     Thanks for the thought, though. I guess that's what counts.

     The sun has long since set; I would have lost my form already to this vile curse were it not for the thick clouds that shroud the sky. It rained today. The ground is still wet. Who cares? I have to wonder that myself, why I can still think to ponder these things in my surroundings when this utterly undefinable, insurmountable wall stands right before me.

     I'll admit, I'm terrified. Have you ever been terrified of yourself?

     It's a nasty feeling. I feel tainted, contaminated. There's something inside of me, and I can't run away from it no matter how hard I try. I could run from these woods to Shenkuu's mountains, to Faerieland's crater. I could dive under the seas or leap into the sky, and it wouldn't matter, because the peril will always be right where I am.

     The fall looms before me. I can see it, the vast emptiness ahead. I can cling to my handholds, flail wildly for my balance, but I know that I have lost this race before I can even begin to run. There's no escape; my fate is set. My paws will slip, my legs will stumble, and the abyss will swallow me up. There's nothing to be done about it. I'm weak. I'm alone.

     All I can do is wait.

     My sight seems strangely green. The earthen hues of the shady copse I stand in leap out at me with a vibrancy I've never seen before, whereas the golden-brown of bark and mud seem subdued.

     The eyes, so green and unforgiving, following me from the shadows-

     I cannot help but remember that Night. Back when I walked without the weight of this curse on my shoulders, back when I was a Neopet and not a monster.

     I glance down at my arm. It's still blue and lean, thankfully. But how long will that last? How long before my very identity is whisked away, where my own existence will be replaced by something aloof and utterly contemptuous of me? How long before my teeth will curve over my jaw and my velvet pelt will become a filthy grey?

     That body, brown and grotesquely muscled, ragged fur coarse and matted beyond the reach of any comb-

     Is it already happening? Are these prickles and aches I feel legitimate, or is my exhausted, scrambling mind imagining how things will be in just a moment's time?

     A breeze ruffles my body, and I shudder. It's cold.

     The teeth, sharp and cold as icicles as they bite down-

     Getting the picture? It's not a nice one. And these memories are going to be a portrait of me pretty soon.

     I think the moon is starting to get to me. I've bemoaned my fate for a while now, but never before have I felt this trapped. I can feel my heart beginning to race, pounding madly; this desperation is more than I can bear. I feel like a Miamouse that finds itself cornered by a Wocky. I don't want to be a monster! Why is it that nobody will swoop down and save me, that nobody will tell me that it was only a terrible joke? Why couldn't I have run faster, coaxed my legs to move when I so dearly needed them to? Why can't I get out of this? Why can't I wake up?

     If this is the first night of forever, then I wish I'd never existed.

     The dusk ambience is uncannily loud, almost intrusive. Perhaps it's just the blood pounding in my ears, and perhaps I'm imagining it. But I feel as though anything can happen now, under these dark skies. Perhaps, perhaps - there are so many of these now, so many can-bes lingering where firm certainty used to comfort me. And anything will happen. It's all crystal, though, a few moments of that famed slow-motion clarity before things spin out of my control. Petpetpets chirp and Whoots screech, and Spyders scuttle through the underbrush on their long, spindly legs; every bending blade of grass is audible. I feel as though I can hear everything. Why couldn't I have heard this clearly on that Night? Why couldn't I have heard it coming for me?

     The clouds that shadow the moon are beginning to drift away. I feel... strange. Lightheaded. My heart is pounding in my chest, but I'm not terrified anymore. A reckless, giddy feeling thrums through my body. Loathing turns to anticipation, impatience. Why was I afraid? I can't remember.

     I think I had wished the clouds would cover the full moon forever, but now I'm urging them on, cursing their sluggishness as they float aimlessly around the object of my obsession. I want the moon to be freed, so it will free me in turn. I'm practically hyperventilating, panting with excitement. Foam gathers at the corners of my mouth. The forest around me fades away. Nothing else matters but that glitter of silver that's beginning to appear. The moon. It's so close, so close and I want it-

     The shadows around me begin to fade, pale light flooding the glade, and I need it, need it, need it!

     It starts in my chest, centering around my frantic heart; a sort of burning, a feverish heat that washes over me like an engulfing wave. My fur stands on end with the energy, and I stretch upward instinctively, straining towards the sky as if I could grasp it and pull it down with me.

     My paws have clenched themselves in anticipation, but they curl open hastily as sharp claws push from my fingertips. Dizziness swamps me, head pounding to the maddened rhythm of my heart. Am I growing? The ground seems to be a little further away. My body aches. I can't move. And it's making me frantic, upset, angry. I want to move. I want to run. The night is mine!

     My skin prickles as thick, black-brown fur overgrows velvety blue. Muscles bulge, erasing my trademark skinniness. Something's tearing, ripping; a constriction around my neck vanishes as my shirt decides it can no longer take my growing bulk. I notice this, but I do not comprehend it. All I can understand is the moon.

     And underneath the pain, I feel strong.

     At last, it stops, and I buckle to my knees, as if some invisible force had finally released me. My head throbs, my limbs ache. But I am free. Clumsily, I struggle to my feet, feeling the power thrill through my new legs. A growl bubbles in my throat, daring anyone to challenge me. I am in my element. The complexities and confusions I felt mere minutes ago are nothing, shadows cast away, dust in the wind. I cannot remember why I worried. I cannot remember what I felt at all. There is only now.

     The full moon shines above me in all its glory like a great silver coin, casting its mystical resplendence upon me.

     I howl to the sky, and I am myself no longer.

The End

 
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