Moon Phases

Six months earlier.

It was at a beach party that Jack was turned. Someone, an acquaintance, invited him and a few bottles, to the dunes on the South Kentish Sea front near Dungeness.

As usual, he drank a bit too much, but he was sure afterwards, that his drink was spiked. Certainly, he had a metallic taste in his mouth the next morning and a monumental headache, the like he had never experienced before. He was also quite photosensitive to the point of almost being blinded by the sunlight.

He was alone and all that remained of the previous night's party were a few dying embers in the fire, and a few beer bottles and cans scattered around. The sea was an impossible distance away, having receded in tidal action. Littlestone is a shallow section of the shore, all sand and the sea pulls back by up to a mile in places before rushing back on the return tide. The foreshore though, is untouched by the modern demand for entertainment and retains its wild untended desolation, as nature built it over millennia.

He rolled over, trying to find some shelter from the sunlight that seemed to be burning into his brain like a laser. A new pain announced its presence.

Christ, he thought, what the fuck did she do to me? I dim recollection of his previous nights excesses came to him. He couldn't see the wound but his tentative touches revealed a large bite or something on the side of his neck just above where it joins the shoulder. It hurt like hell and now that he was aware of it, also burned as fiercely as the sun.

Somehow, Jack found some shelter, cowering beside a tall marsh-grass covered dune. The sea breeze whipped the sand up which felt like little knives as it hit him, but at least, he was shaded from the merciless sun. He managed to sleep for a few hours, curled in the foetal position.

The day progressed through the afternoon. The sun lowered and the sea returned in its rush to scour the exposed sand. Jack woke, feeling parched and his stomach gurgled its emptiness.

He opened his eyes gingerly as if to test the quality of light and how much pain it would induce. Gradually, they focused on a bright red pair of plastic sandals that were occupied by a pair of dirty bare feet.

The child, standing a scant few feet away, regarded him intently, not moving or saying anything as her subject uncoiled and groaned awake.

Jack's senses coalesced into cognitive order. After his visual appraisal of the young child who so studiously observed him, he became aware of her smell. He couldn't put a name to it, but somehow, it smelled wholesome. Yes, wholesome was a good description of her smell.

He heard her blood pulsing through her veins. The sound, when he realised what it was, both frightened him and excited his senses, provoking a momentary and inexplicable hunger.

She turned and imperiously walked away, leaving him feeling desperately lonely suddenly. He watched her go, thinking to call her back, but he didn't, he was still trying to understand how he could have heard her blood and sensed her smell so vividly

He got up from his laying position and tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame him and he sat back down with a thud. The depression in the soft sand where he had lain for the day, made an uncomfortable ridge that jarred his ribs as he almost fell. He stayed in his relatively safe place until dusk.

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Soundlessly, she approached him, coming from down wind and only letting him know she was there when she was close enough to have attacked him before he would have had a chance to protect himself. It was her voice that announced her presence.

"So you're alive then." Her clothes looked to be rags, but were in fact, a dress made up of strips of printed cloth. White hair fell to below shoulder length and an almost translucent face framed pitch black eyes.

He recognised her from the previous night and then remembered the wild sex they had enjoyed until it all became too weird. Her smell intrigued him causing a heightened awareness of his sexual arousal, made all the more obvious by his stiffening cock. He realised for the first time that he was naked, not even his socks were around.

The sun had sunk now, darkness was dropping like a final curtain on the day, but it was still light enough for him to see her transformation. She dropped to her knees; her face stretched and elongated into a snout, her body changes were mostly covered by her dress, but he could see well enough, the altered outline of her silver coloured furry body.

His transformation took no less time. It seemed to him, that one second he was a man and then, the next, he had changed into a wolf, complete with black fur and a mouth, full of teeth. An inconsequential thing struck him the hardest; the loss of colour that left his visual understanding; everything took on an aspect of grey, black or white. Strangely, he mourned this loss more than anything else.

He should have been frightened by the change. Should have been a mess of confusion, but somehow, the transformation from Human to Lupine seemed a perfectly natural progression.

She stepped out of the dress and crossed the few feet between them. Her brush against his flank produced a thrill that coursed through his body, producing a shiver of pleasure.

His sinuses told him she was in oestrous and ready to mate. He would have to impress her in some way to gain her favour. He needn't have worried because her overtures towards him left no room for doubt. She licked his jowls and came to him in supplication, her tail down and crouching. She licked his mouth again and then spun, buffeting him playfully with her haunches. She lowered her head and licked his sheath with a long lash of her tongue. There was very little nuance about her next action, she turned once more and presented her rear to his nose for inspection.

He couldn't help but take in her scent, breathing it deeply so that it passed over his olfactory senses triggering the mating ritual. He licked her centre and then again, making her wet with his saliva. Her vulva pouted at his touch and she whined her readiness for him.

With no further preamble, he mounted her, his cock already prodding through its sheath and questing for her sex. It took a few attempts, but once they had shifted into a position where he was perfectly aligned, he forcible shoved forward while locking his forepaws around her haunches and pulling her into him. Once inside, he started a furious pace of fucking her. It lasted for quite some time and soon, his tongue lolled from the side of his mouth with the effort.

Instinct took over; very soon he was pummelling her sex with his massive cock, his hind legs scrabbling in an effort to get deeply embedded within her body. Her tail got in the way once or twice and was a distraction, but only until his body was entirely supported on her rump, his legs off the ground and his knot passed into her. His thrusting stopped as she locked her muscles around his bulbous knot. It swelled from the massage her body gave it and then he began his release. His seed pumped in long streams while she milked him with convulsions of her muscles until he was totally dry.

He signalled his completion by trying to dismount. The pain was almost unbearable and in a desperate attempt, he managed to twist and stand rear to rear as her sex gripped him in a vice-like embrace that continued to pulsate and milk every last drop from him. Feeling like he would never be released, he tried to pull out of her and away, but her muscles had totally entrapped him and would not let go.

Eventually, after ten minutes that seemed like hours, she relaxed her grip on him, they parted. She spun on him and nipped his shoulder. It was then that he noticed several pairs of eyes reflecting what luminescent light there was, silently staring from the surrounding dunes. They had also approached noiselessly from downwind.

Then, in a melee of furry bodies, they greeted him and her, rolling over in supplication and whining their joy at the addition to the pack and also, their successful mating. All joined in the dance, except one, in the confusing of bodies, she stood separate, observing them with a cool dispassionate stare.

His mate yipped once and began to slope off along the beach. The pack, for that is what it was, followed silently. Not knowing what else to do, he followed and shortly was running in an easy, ground covering gait, alongside the silver wolf, that was now carrying his cubs.

They travelled for some time, angling away from the sea and over a tarmac road towards the restaurant at the end of the miniature railway that ran from Hythe to Dymchurch through Romney. The stink of oil and human made him want to gag, but fortunately, it passed by quickly as their ground covering pace left it behind.

They were heading towards a row of houses set back and away from the road. Only shingle sea cabbage and gorse was between them and the brightly lit houses. She slowed her pace and became more cautious, smelling the air as she went.

A door opened to one of the houses, flooding light across the shingle, a figure was briefly silhouetted in the frame. It turned back briefly to shout something back into the house and then the door was pulled shut, the figure started to walk towards the gate, set in a wooden fence. .

She crouched behind a gorse bush and watched to see what would happen. The rest of the pack fanned out and crouched behind her, finding what cover they could.

The man was walking towards them and is doom, whistling a tuneless trill that grated on Jack's ears. They waited until he was almost upon them. The thrill of the hunt was a palpable adrenalin rush. He didn't see what hit him, his defence mechanism was too slow to protect his throat. His arm, when it came up to ward the dark shadow away, only brushed her flank as her teeth sank into his throat and with a deft twist of her body, tore it wide open. His last breath escaped from a windpipe that no longer was connected to his mouth.

He fell to the floor and the pack descended on his cooling body in a snarling, ripping mass of bodies. It took less than ten minutes before the fully-grown man was reduced to shreds. They left his head and entrails and very little else.

Jack had watched, horrified, the violence and sheer ruthlessness of the attack left him bereft of any will.

Sated, the wolves backed away, leaving his silver furred mate standing over the remains of the man. His blood soaked clothes shredded and scattered in an arc around her. She looked at him; blood stained her muzzle and yipped her invitation for him to feed. He trotted over to her amid the bloody pile and sniffed. The stench of blood and shit made him gag. Turning away, he retched on an empty stomach.

He could hear the pack laughing at his condition, all except her. She stood and silently told him to eat; challenging him to take his first share of a victim. He refused and started to run in the first direction he could, his tail tucked under him.

He didn't go too far though, his sexual exertions and lack of food soon had him panting and needing to rest. He had to eat. It was a primal urge and basic requirement. He needed to eat and soon, otherwise he would weaken and die. He knew it in some fundamental way, an understanding of how things are.

A little later found him stalking a rabbit. He found silent movement came as second nature. Closing to within a few feet, he pounced and snapped his jaws around the rabbit's head, breaking its neck instantly. It would be enough for now, perhaps until tomorrow, but he knew he couldn't eat human. Their stink turned him off and just the remembrance of it, almost lost him his meal.

Bravo! she mocked, behold the mighty hunter. He had missed her approach and was taken by surprise. Come on she instructed. He followed her lead, not knowing where they were going. Her scent as it wafted back to him was overwhelming. Purposefully, he tripped her with a swipe across her back legs and then, as she struggled to get up, he was upon her, griping her neck until she submitted to him and his superior strength and weight.

He allowed her up and without any niceties, mounted her in a frenzy of lust, brought on by the adrenalin rush of the hunt and her intriguing smell. The act was violent, almost a rape, but their bodies responded to a primeval dance of procreation. He buried his cock and then his knot into her willing and receptive sex. His completion erupted inside her as she clamped him in and milked his cock of all its juice.

He threw his head back and howled a series of triumphant yodels that announced his mastery of her. His calls were answered in the distance by the pack their sound travelling for miles. Then, the local dogs set up to yelling as well, adding to the cacophony.

She led him back to her dress, to where she had found him on the beach. The light in the sky was showing that dawn was only a matter of a few hours away.

She transformed back into the lithe, white haired woman who had turned him. Her young body in human form was not unpleasant to see, but there was a cruel look in her eyes that evoked distrust.

"The first time is always the worst". She told him, meaning everything he guessed.

"Here". She threw him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had been rolled up in the folds of her dress. Jack transformed as the first light rose and was immediately overcome with a desperate fatigue. He flopped to the ground in a boneless heap.

"You will also get used to that". She remarked in an offhanded way.

"You had better come with me. I can see you are going to need a bit of time to adjust."

"Why didn't you just kill and eat me"?

"We needed a male and you looked okay. Besides, I thought you quite cute. Welcome to the pack." She spun and walked off across the dunes towards the road and the council houses on the other side.

Their lair turned out to a basement of a Victorian house that looked about ready for demolition. Plywood boards covered the tall windows and wire fence panels in heavy rubber feet, clamped together, formed a boundary protection.

Alice, the alpha female, lit a few lamps and welcomed him into the den. The rest followed them in and dispersed to settees and chairs arranged around the dank room. It was Jack's first time to really observe the group in human form. Five women faced him of various ages and body shapes. They took little notice of him and once their initial chatter died, they settled to sleep.

"So, err, what is your name?" She and Jack had settled away from the others.

"Jack."

"So Jack, what do you think eh?" She swept her arm in an expansive, all encompassing gesture.

"What do you think of our home from home and our pack?"

"To be honest, all this blows me away." He told her.

"And I am trying to make sense of it all. Yesterday, or was it the day before? I was an ordinary guy, making a living and getting by. Now though, well... well what am I? And what does it all mean?"

"I would have thought what you are, was obvious." Alice wriggled a little, settling into the hollow of an old armchair that jack leant against, sitting on the floor.

"What you have made me is painfully obvious." He couldn't resist the scorn.

"It's what it means from hereon in. What is to become of me? My art? My life?"

"It means sweetie, your almost invulnerable and will live by night. It means your diet is going to change somewhat and it means you will be intolerant of daylight." She matched his scorn.

"It isn't like on the movies; the sun won't burn you to a pile of dust, just that you won't be able to get a suntan. Oh! And by the way, you can be killed. It doesn't need a silver bullet; any fucking bullet will kill you. Any major injury is a problem because it will slow you down and nobody will feed you baby. If you get injured, you're on your own."

He thought to himself for a while and then asked the question that had been bugging him and her mention of the movies brought it to the fore.

"I expected the transformation to be a painful transition. I didn't feel it really; just the loss of colour and heightened senses was about it. I could still reason and think, but it just felt different, not like in the movies at all."

"Those old films; American Werewolf in London, have a lot to answer for. In time, you will even get used to the colourlessness, perhaps even look forward to those three nights when you can run free and hunt to kill and eat. You will live for the hunt."

"I think we will always be different there. I could never kill or eat a person like you did tonight. I can't stand the smell of them in that way."

"You will." She assured him.

"You will, it just takes a bit of time to adjust. Now, come lover, let's make some puppies."

"What; in front of these? He swept a gaze over the reclining women.

"It didn't bother you last night. They were all there to see the new king take his queen and boy you sure are king." She lifted her dress and flashed him her fur covered sex, then span over in the chair, laughing and mooned him.

He declined the offer as gracefully as he could, too exhausted to raise the interest and found a place to sleep.

The next evening, Jack awoke and almost tried to scratch his ear with his foot before he realised in what form he was. Hungry, he quietly left the basement and headed for home.

His home was just as he had left it; the detached house, safe, with all the accoutrements of comfort and the familiarity of use had patiently waited for his return. Ravenously, he ripped open the fridge to see what was on offer and stuffed his face with everything he could.

He entered his studio and looked critically at the piece he had been working on. As a commercial work, it had merit, but he could see the weaknesses in it. He would paint from now on, in a completely different style, more aggressive, more daring. His living had been okay up to now, but pretty soon, he would be a celebrated name with international shows. He could feel it.

Twenty-seven days later.

Jack transformed for three nights. The first of the moon was only ever a partial change, but enough for his body to alter to wolf with a hunger to hunt and feed. The full moon, when he forgot his human side completely, and then the next night, when his transformation would arouse an incredible, insatiable hunger that then, would leave him totally exhausted.

It was also when he would hunt out and find the pack.

Jack could not get over his revulsion for human flesh. The smell was enough each time they fed, to make him gag. He subsisted on rabbits and the occasional cat if he could find one too slow to escape.

On the twenty-seventh night, he climbed upon his Triumph and rode to the ramshackle house just as dusk was falling. He parked the motorcycle and wriggled into the basement. They were already there, waiting for him to turn up.

Alice was in a separate room, but the others all crowded around him even as they transformed. In an excited greeting, they crouched and approached him in supplication, brushing against him to re-affirm the bond of the pack. He smelled at each of them and playfully cuffed the most bold.

Alice growled a warning to them; they backed off, making space for the alpha female and male to welcome each other. She came to him as an equal, stiff legged and her tail straight out. The silver wolf checked him over smelling and buffeting him, taking stock of his condition and state of health.

Jack's enforced change of lifestyle had put some weight on him. Eating at night felt foreign to him, so he had taken to binge eating as the night fell or morning rose while in human form. His altered metabolism stored fat that had begun to layer around his midriff.

They greeted each other and then, as one, the pack left the lair and went out to hunt.