Make You Hurt || Malcolm Bright

No. 9 - Rumors Of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Okay, I just had to do werewolf!Malcolm for this one.

//\\//\\

No. 9 - Rumors Of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Presumed Dead | (Blind) Rage | Tears

Malcolm's been gone for months. Presumed dead by everyone, and he'd very much like to keep it that way. After everything, faking his death and letting everyone think he's dead felt... oddly freeing. Of course he never wanted to hurt them, but ultimately it was safer to let them think of him as dead. Better that they knew nothing of what he had become.

He never believed that the supernatural existed before that fateful night, didn't want to believe that there are more monsters out there, especially in the paranormal sense. It just never made sense to him. The world was already full of monsters, and it certainly didn't need any more.

But now.... Now he's joined the ranks of the monsters. Completely unwillingly, and it's just better if his family and friends continue to believe that he's dead.

He mostly roams the woods now, far away from civilization, living off wild meat. But sometimes, generally around the full moon, he's forced to go back into the city when the meat of animals just doesn't cut it, and he needs human meat. He hates it, but it's what he must do to survive.

Which is why he's found himself back in the city, prowling the alleyways of New York bars and strip clubs for his prey.

He only picks off the ones that people won't miss. The assholes that are better off dead.

Standing in the shadows, he watches as a drunk man is pushed out of the door of the bar, presumably by the owners, for starting a bar fight and being just an overall dick. And his claws and canines start to protrude as he practically salivates at the scent of his prey.

He starts to follow the man as he stumbles drunkenly down the alley, keeping to the shadows and out of sight. And finally, when he's sure there's no one around to come running, he strikes, swiping at the man's neck before he has the chance to react, and sinks his teeth into the man's flesh, loving the way the man's blood tastes on his tongue.

Too preoccupied with his meal and tearing into flesh, Malcolm doesn't hear the approaching footsteps, until he feels a bullet tear through his shoulder, causing him to jump up, howling in pain as he grabs onto his injured shoulder. It's not a silver bullet, thank god, but it still very much hurts. Getting shot always hurts like a motherfucker.

Looking up, he lets out a growl at the person who shot at him. He finds that there's two cop cars, their red and blue lights flashing brightly, lighting up the whole scene. He barely notices the way three of the cops are staring at him, but he doesn't care anyway. All he cares about is that they disrupted his feeding, and he's not happy about it.

Baring his teeth in a snarl, he stalks closer to the cops, ready to tear them apart if he really has to. But he doesn't get very far, as one of them pulls out a taser, and he falls to the ground, convulsing as he's repeatedly tasered, before he's falling into unconsciousness.

******

"Gil, no matter what we want to believe, that's not Malcolm anymore." JT says as he, Gil, and Dani stand outside the interrogation room, staring in through the window at an unconscious Malcolm restrained down to a chair.

The three of them are at a complete loss of words for what to do. It's been a full year since they last saw Bright, and everything pointed to him being dead. But now, here he is, looking awfully ragged and wild with his longer hair and beard, and covered in blood. Not to mention the dead body they had found him crouching over and appeared to be... eating from if the bitemarks and torn flesh on the body is anything to go by.