The Turning

If you told me six months ago that this would happen, I wouldn't believe you. The fact that it actually is happening is completely insane. I was pretty sure I was destined for a life where a sulked about my problems all on my own. Having someone to sulk to really ruins that edgy street cred, not that I had much of that anyway.

***

Steve looked at the clock. Its blinking green face said "20:42".

Damn! Where is she? It's only an hour to go! I mean, this is our first proper date; you can't go and mess that up!

He grabbed the knife and started cutting the steak into cubes.

Oh well, at least it gives me time to get ready.

***

Where do I start? I mean, sure I could go back to the very beginning when half of me was a single sperm cell and the other half was a single egg. But then you'd have to listen to my whole life story, which is really boring as with most people's life stories. So, let's jump all the boring bits and get right into the action.

What was it, like, two years ago? Bit more now I think of it, but the exact timing is irrelevant. It was a nice summers night when I had decided to go camping; right out there in the wilderness, looking up at the stars twinkling in-between the trees. Or something like that. Really it was a bad excuse because one of my friends, my boss in fact, is stupid rich; and just so happened to own a farmhouse with a forest attached to it. He was all like "Yo, just ask if you wanna use it!", and I was all like "yeah, sure thing bro."

Anyway, back to the fun bit. There I was, putting out my little campfire and getting ready to snuggle up in my sleeping bag, when I hear a noise. I thought, "huh, that's weird. Didn't know there were wild animals around here." Meanwhile, monkey brain was like "WHAT ARE YOU DOING! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! WE'RE GONNA DIE!!!" Which was probably the correct reaction, considering what happened. I heard it again, it was definitely a howl (but that might be an added detail post-event). Then I saw these two glowing dots in the treeline. That was the point where I listened to monkey brain and realised, I was toast. Or dogmeat, I guess.

BAM! It jumped at me and grabbed me by the neck. Didn't even have time to scream. Then I woke up the next morning, without my jim-jams on and covered in twigs and dirt. That was the point when I wondered if what they say about cherries is true. Or if someone had slipped some grade-a acid into my sausage. That was until I noticed the tree with long claw marks on it. And matching bark under my fingernails. The fact that every bone in my body felt like it had been run over by a tank wasn't the thing that hit me first, it was the fact that I was naked in the middle of a forest with claw marks on a tree and matching bark under my nails.

But me being the ever-independent cool-dude, I followed the pawprints that led, via the scenic route may I add, to my tent. Thankfully, most of it was still there. Well, except for my snacks; they were definitely gone. And the entire side of the bag they were in. No problem though, my clothes were still there. And my car keys! Praise be, I won't have to break into my car and jumpstart it. Not that you need to know how I can do that.

First thing first, got my clothes on. Even if I've completely lost my mind and gone on a wild bender, I need to at least not look like I've completely lost my mind and gone on a wild bender. Next, packed all my stuff up. I ain't gonna litter; that's just not cool man. Unlock car. Open boot. Dump stuff in boot. Close boot. Open boot again to check your socks are all there. Close boot. Go to open boot again, then realise it's your OCD and you haven't left the cooker on. Get in car. Drive away. No problemo, right?

That was until a few weeks later. Full moon time. I had noticed I was becoming even more of an arsehole than usual in the last few days, but this was borderline "I'll murder your kids if you put two sugars instead of one." So, I took a 'holiday' for the week, thinking I was just super stressed. I mean, it was kind of true, in a way.

The moon was going to be at 90% tonight, so it was way too bright to do any telescoping. Not that I could anyway, because my head felt like it had been hit multiple times with a sledgehammer. It was so bad I couldn't even be bothered to make anything for dinner, I had a pot noodle and two slices of bread. Like, man, I've not eaten that bad since uni.

Went to hit the hay at like, nine; but no dice. The headache was even worse. And it felt like there was something underneath my skin, waiting to burst out. Fever? Worst fever I've ever had in that case. Then it happened. Well, I say it happened, but I think I blacked out with the pain, because I can't remember exactly what happened. But from later experimentation, I can pretty much guess what happened.

Every bone in your body gets longer. Some decide they've had enough and decide to go on holiday, thinking "I dunno man, I hear the ribcage is getting some pretty good rays right now". Same for your muscles, they all grow and move around to fit your new bones. Interestingly enough, new bits start to pop up here and there. Grow a tail, wondering if those bones decided to move there from your ear, giving it a little wiggle along the way to make sure it's actually attached; otherwise things could get awkward. Spine gets longer, interestingly the back seems to get longer before the front, which seems like a minor design oversight. Also, your legs. They've decided they've had enough of the standing up thing and decide to beat evolution and re-arrange themselves to be digitigrade, even though it doesn't really make much sense. But hey, what do I know?

Next stop on the line is your hands and feet. Your fingernails grow to claws that are about 4 inches long, I know because I measured them. Oi, don't laugh! I don't care if yours are longer, mine look cooler. Anyway, you need to be pretty careful with them because they're really sharp. Bedsheets, cloths, towels; big no-no. Wood, plastic, eh; you can get away with it. Concrete, brick, stone, metal; you're going to hurt yourself more than the thing you just whacked. And watch out for your feet-claws, they'll ruin your carpet and your lawn if you're not careful.

And to match those big-boy claws, you get some big-boy paws! I mean, they're like normal paws, but bigger and you've got 5 fingers instead of 4. AND you get to keep your opposable thumbs! Bonus!

Next up is your face. Or what used to be a face; but has recently been refitted with a new model snout. Included features are: extra sensitive nose, big yellow eyes (the better to see with), deluxe big ears (way better for hearing with) and some big pointy teeth (all the better you eat people with, can't say I've ever tried). And for a limited time only, you also get an extra long tongue and we're throwing in a set of whiskers, absolutely free of charge! That's amazing value for only the low, low price of your entire life and possibly sanity!

Last, but not least, hair. You think your body hair's bad? Think again, kiddo. The best way to describe it is like a Mexican wave, but instead of hooligans it's your hair, and instead of hands it's hair. Ok, it's nothing like a Mexican wave; but it's close enough. You pretty much go from baby smooth to fluffy rug in like, under a minute. It's a shame my hair is auburn, because it looks really weird as fur. Black would look way radder, with maybe a tied second for brown or white. But instead I look more like original-the-character-do-not-steal than a real dog.

After all the exciting bits are done (no, I'm not going to tell you about that bit, you weirdo.), it's pretty much downhill from there. You look at the moon, resist the urge to howl because you'll piss the neighbours off, try to negotiate the door frame because some inconsiderate twat didn't think "hey, what if a 8 foot bipedal wolf decides to move in?" What now? Whatever you want. Got for a frolic in the woods, have a catch-up with the local strays, rummage around in next-doors bins to see if they've thrown out their prize cut of steak because it "wasn't quite marbled enough; my dear Margret", or do what normal people do and watch some questionable-quality movie you found out of pure desperation on Netflix.

I think the weirdest part of the whole thing is it doesn't actually hurt. You would think, reading my description, that it must be more painful than god-damn childbirth in a warzone with two rusty nails and a camel as a midwife; but it doesn't. In a way, it kind of feels good. And after a while, you get used to the incessant nagging as wolf brain is like "haha moon go awooooo". The feeling isn't quite as good as that girl you did behind the bike shed in high school, but more like having a really good curry and falling asleep watching the Great Escape.

Then, come morning, assembly is the reverse of disassembly. Within a few minutes, you're back to normal, albeit with a bad headache, and ready to do whatever the hell you normally do. But I suggest you take a shower first, because you smell pretty bad. Especially if you rummaged around next door's bins.

So, my life went on like this, having a week of fun every month (with the odd change in between, especially when Rodger tells you about how great his kids are for the 1,000^th time. I mean, some nights you've just gotta have a run around naked in the woods, right?) for the next two years, until about a month ago.

***

"OW!" Steve had missed the steak and had instead chopped his thumb. "Damn, I'm going to ruin the good chopping board!"

He ran over to the cupboard where he kept the first-aid kit. He pulled out a plaster and slapped it on the cut. Not that he needed it, it would only take at most an hour to heal; but because he wanted to stop the blood spewing all over his cloths and ruining them.

He glanced at the clock. "21:06"

He parted the curtains and peered out the front window. Zero signs of life.

"Come on, don't be late!"

***

If I was writing a pretentious autobiography, this is the part I would label "The beginning of the end", or some other impressive-sounding BS. However, this isn't a pretentious autobiography, so I'm not going to label it anything.

So, there I was, just come in to work. I'm one of those cool kids who rides their bike; except I'm not so pretentious I spent six-grand on a race-spec road bike, only to complain about how much my back hurts because a six-grand race-spec road bikes are terrible to ride. So, just had a shower and put my work clothes on. Got to my desk, and lo and behold there is a post-it note stuck to the screen. Read it; great, new starter. As the "senior technical systems engineer", it's my job to figure out what the hell to do with new starters. Logon to my PC, only to see an email. Again, about this new starter. At least I know their name; Mary. Read the CV, cool; degree in software engineering, one-hundred and ten percent nerd, twenty-odd, loads of work experience. Also, not a he; but a she. It always makes me happy to see that men aren't the only ones stupid enough to throw their lives away to the hell that is working in an e-commerce start-up. And the thing about women in technology is pretty cool as well, I guess. And, would you look at that, she arrives in 30 minutes.

Looks like it's time to activate productivity mode. Fortunately, it's that time of the month so I actually don't feel like I'm going to die without injecting caffeine into my eyeballs, but I grab some coffee just so I don't get withdrawal symptoms. And to reduce the risk of murdering our brand-new employee. Quickly clear the desk where the last poor soul lost their life to crunch-time and make sure the desktop actually works after 3 months of running a Quake, CS:GO AND Minecraft server.

Glance at my watch, 9:00, time to meet our next victim. Fortunately she's waiting in the lobby; it's much more awkward when you're just kinda hanging around for twenty minutes because they don't understand the concept of linear time and think that turning up for work on their first day is totally cool.

Gonna be honest, at first glance she looked pretty average. About five-foot ten? Medium brown hair. Brown eyes. Got glasses, so that adds an extra point to the nerd tally. I mean, she's not Jenny from the Block, but she looks pretty good. Chatted a bit in the lift, she is definitely a nerd. And she is pretty excited about the job, which is unusual for people who decide to work in the tech industry AND don't have severe brain damage.

Finally, at the office, show her to her desk. Take a few hours to show her around all the systems, what she now does for a living and what to do when someone runs in with their hair on fire screaming about IPO prices.

End of the day, about to go get changed into my super-sexy lycra, when she comes up to me. "Hey Steve, thanks for all the help today." Already know what's she's going to say, my super sensitive nose can smell the anxiety around her. And the bit where she started with the usual flattery. "What you doing tonight?"

"Not much"

"Me too. Want to have some drinks."

Normally I say "lolnope, imma head out", but this time I say "yeah sure. See you at 7." Gives me a whole two hours to hobnob around and get home for my night of watching funny cat videos. Then I realise what I've done. Or to be more precisely, what my doggie in the window has done.

For all my life: part 2 I've resigned myself to being alone. I found out about those "true" werewolves, but they're mildly insane. They're these weird borderline-cult hippies that live in tents in the middle-of-nowhere and practice the "True Way of the Wolf™"; which involves The Villages-level swinging, weird group-sex, human sacrifices as coming-of-age trials and a very distinct power structure, with there being an alpha mating pair (usually the most insane) and then whoever is the most violent in descending order. I went there, and noped the fuck out in the first day.

So, you may think, "OK Steve, so no weird werewolf cults. But what about humans? That's cool, right?" And the answer is: I'm not sure, and I don't really want to find out. I mean, I fiddled my diddle once as a human during the full-moon-week and it resulted in me needing a new mattress, so I decided it would be even worse with an actual person. Mainly because you can't order a new person and have it arrive the next day (well, not legally at least). But it's not that much of an issue, because as either a human or a wolf-thing, I don't have much of a need to hump anything that moves. My guess is the change is enough to satisfy that need. Wolf me gets a run around every so often, and monkey me gets to enjoy life the rest of the time. And we seem to be pretty cool with that.

But this time was different. I think it's because we resonated on such a nerdy level that I couldn't help but get to know her more, not as a "mate", but as a friend. So, I turned up at the fancy cocktail bar at 7PM as agreed, and she was sitting there waiting for me. She wasn't in some super-fancy dress or anything, she was in jeans and a t-shirt. Huzzah, someone who finally understands expectations and the fact that no-one actually cares how expensive your watch is. Now you may be thinking to yourself, "Hold on a minute Stevey-boy! You don't drink! What you doing at a cocktail bar? Fallen off the wagon, eh?" And you would be correct. Hence why I suggested the cocktail bar that just so happens to serve really good non-alcoholic cocktails. And to my surprise, she's also chose the non-alcoholic ones. Oh no, that feeling is returning. It's a feeling of actually wanting to spend extended periods of time with somebody. That feeling I specifically don't want to feel so I don't cause a major international incident and get taken away in a black helicopter.

Fortunately, she also doesn't like cocktail bars that much; far too noisy. Meeting over in about an hour, but we have another date setup for next week! Oh no! And to make it even better, it's at my house! What are you doing brain, do I need to replace you with one that functions correctly? I mean, I could come up with some shitty excuse about how my dog died yesterday, but that makes me look even more like a jack-ass. So, we go our separate ways; that is until next Saturday.

***

Steve's ears pricked up. He could hear the gravel going crunch. Either that means the postman has turned up in the middle of the night, or Mary has finally arrived. He quickly takes the plaster off, washes his hands and goes to the front door. Right on cue, Mary presses the doorbell. *bing bong*.

Steve takes a deep breath and opens the door.

"Sorry I'm late, the traffic was really bad."

Steve was taken aback at the abruptness of the apology.

"No need to apologise, we've still got plenty of time."

No, we haven't. We've only got 15 minutes!

He gestures for Mary to sit on the sofa. He sits down next to her.

She looks at him. "Are you ready?"

"It's not a question of whether I'm ready; it's your life on the line."

"In that case, yes. I've had a good think about this over the last few weeks, and I've decided there's no going back." There was a staunch look of determination on Mary's face.

"Well, in that case, let's get ready."

Steve stood up and walked upstairs.

***

Right, it's the time for the big date. She's arriving at 6, gotta get things ready. For once, my monkey and wolf brain are cooperating. But this time, they're cooperating against me; they want this date to go well. I don't.

So, the plan is a nice fillet steak with peppercorn sauce and hand-cut chips. I know it's a bit on the nose, but I've gotten quite good at it so at least I won't completely screw it up. And it tastes nice, so that's a bonus. So, everything's going great; hour to go and all the prep's done, just need to prep myself now. Jump in the shower, give myself a good-old scrub. Don't want to be that guy that turned up to a date quite literally smelling like a wet dog. Next, I forgo all the usual fancy clothing and decide to chuck on jeans and a t-shirt; judging by our previous night encounter she won't be dressing up fancy.

30 minutes to go. Give the place a last minute clean, then get back to the food. Wait, why am I making my house look nice? I want this to go wrong! Stupid brain! Before I can consider ruining my house, *ding dong*. Shit, she's here! Run to the door, open it. Yep, she's wearing the same. And she smells different. Oh no, she's put on perfume. I hate the stuff; to a normal human it may smell nice, but to me it smells like someone jammed some lavender up my nose. Trying not to choke on the smell, I let her in.

Get cooking the steak. We do the usual chit-chat, in this case about video games. Oh no, I'm starting to like her even more! Abort mission!

Finally, food's done. She sits down in the dining room, meanwhile I make the plates look super nice. She complements me on the food; definitely would have done a fist-pump if I was alone. To be fair, it is actually the best steak I've done in a long time; and she likes it too. Next up, desert. Fortunately, I'm not completely crazy so I got a nice key lime pie from the local bakery. Nom, nom, nom. She like it as well! It's as if the universe is doing everything in its power to make things go well; just to spite me for my existence.

What now? Well, she suggests the good-old Netflix and chill. And I agree. Or, more accurately, my stupid monkey-wolf coalition decides. She notices the series I'm watching; she's at the same spot. So, we continue watching it. Oh no! Please, could you crash a plane into my house? Could anything else go right?