The face of an Angel

Chapter 3

Mike Grayhold lay strapped onto a metal table. His body fighting hard against the restraints. The room was dark, the only light coming from a hole in the roof. Mike could see it was getting dark, he started to panic and started trying harder to escape from the table. His muscles flexed under his shirt and as he rocked back and forth, the metal chains ripped his clothing and tore into his skin. He made out a figure, standing in the shadows at the corner of the room. He had no idea who it was, he had no idea how he got here, all he could remember is sitting in Mrs. Laguna's English class, writing to persuade people to join the school debate team.

He looked up to the hole in the roof, just big enough for him to see the moon. Half of the moon was on show, just another ten minutes until the other half would shine through. He fought endlessly against the restraints: one on each hand and foot, one around his neck, one around his chest, and one around his legs. He was immobile. He felt something warm trickling down his body, his hightened sense of smell told him it was blood.

"LET ME OUT," he bellowed to the figure, " DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING, YOU WILL REGRET THIS, DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT I AM?" He practically roared this last bit.

The figure took a step towards him. "Don't worry," the mysterious man soothed, "I am not going to harm you.. So long as you cooperate."

Mike looked up at the hole, 5..4..3..2..1.

A primal roar filled the room. It was loud enough to make the table Mike was on shake vigorously. It was a roar that sounded as if the thing that made it was in unbearable pain. It was.

The muscles in Mike Grayholds body swam, moving their positions. Heart wrenching cracks sounded as his bones snapped into their new places. He screamed as his mouth elongated and his teeth turned into fangs. His pupils dilated and his eyes turned from their usual green to yellow, his eyes were so wide you could see the whites, like the eyes of a frightened horse. His fingers grew longer and his nails cracked as they turned to claws. His feet grew longer and his legs snapped inwards, like the shape of a dog's leg. Brown fur, the same colour as Mike's hair, ripped it's way out all over his body. The procedure was made even more painful against the cold, metal table and the tight, metal chains.

All the way through his transfiguration, Mike heard a distant laugh, sounding from the corner of the room. Now he was in his wolf form he could see in the dark. The man he least expected was nearly doubled over laughing in the corner of the room - the Guardian.

Mike was still panting after the pain he'd just endured changing his form. He was stronger now. He tried ripping through the chains to bite open the Guardians throat, but it seemed the more he struggled, the tighter the chains became.

Eventually, his energy had ran out. He whimpered, sounding like a puppy looking out of a window watching his doggy friends play as he was stuck inside a boring old house.

The Guardian took full advantage of this moment. He sauntered over to the exhausted Mike. He was wearing a white lab coat, and a mouth guard, as if he was going to catch a contagious disease from Mike. Mike looked down at the Guardian's hand and saw a syringe filled with a yellow liquid. He started panicking and the whites of his eyes showed once more. He started to struggle against the chains again, a metallic jingle echoing through the empty room.

It was no use. The Guardian plunged the needle into Mike's arm. Mike's eyes widened one last time, before his whole body went limp and everything went black.

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