Mark had barely started tying the laces on his first shoe when Jack looked out of the glass window that covered the left hand wall of his apartment. The moon was beginning to fully show itself now, the chalky circle full and huge, masked by not a single cloud. It illuminated the dark room and almost entranced Jack, sent him into a stupor which it took all of his will power to break free from. He wasn't ready yet. He had to get Mark out.
Before he realised what he was doing, his hands were planted on Mark's back, ushering him rapidly towards the door to the apartment. Jack was horrified as he looked ahead at his hands. It had already started. His knuckles were growing wider apart, dark hair beginning to sprout from them at a frightening pace. He couldn't let Mark see, he couldn't allow Mark to turn around. He already knew that his eyes must have turned from that beautiful placid blue to a vibrant amber. That always happened before the hair started to show itself. He had to be careful.
With one quick heave he hoisted Mark out into the hall, and slammed the door shut with such force he feared it might break loose from the hinges keeping it upright. He finally gasped, noticing that he had forgotten to breathe since he first laid eyes on that beautiful pearly white lump of rock in the sky. He turned the key in the latch vigorously and turned on his heel, leaning with his back to the door. He let himself slide down it and to the floor, still gasping for air. That was too close.
He studied his hands as he went through the changing, his fingers began to elongate, his nails blackening and curving inwards until they resembled claws. The pale skin on the back of his hands was almost invisible now due to the rug of tangled hair covering them, along with every single finger. The hair continued up his arm and disappeared behind the sleeve of his t-shirt.
He heard a knock on the door, followed by a quick intake of air, as if the person on the other side, Mark obviously, was getting ready to call something from behind it. Jack remained silent, glued to the floor, his back pressed firmly up against the door. It almost killed him that he had expelled Mark from his home so erratically, he shouldn't have lost track of time like that. He shouldn't have even invited the boy over today to start with. What was he thinking? Idiot!
After a short while he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. They were fading, getting further away from apartment number 8. Jack felt a wave of relief, but just as soon as that had went, a new feeling of guilt washed over him. He had doubtlessly ruined Mark's day, and it had occurred to him that maybe Mark had blamed himself. Jack certainly hoped not. Either way, it'd take a lot of explaining on Jack's part when Monday came.
Coming back to his senses, Jack sprang to his feet, scanning his apartment for no particular reason before heading silently towards the bathroom. He reached the mirror and smiled slightly, it wasn't the prettiest sight he had ever come across, yet he had learned to get used to it, and even now managed to admire the beauty of it. His eyes, as he had predicted, had changed from his everyday blue to a piercing shade of orange, dark enough to be seen by most as sinister, but still warm enough for Jack to express caring and gentleness through if he needed to.
His eyebrows had managed to get more bushy, if that was possible, and he had thick sideburns on both sides of his face that he reckoned would give Wolverine a run for his money. Black hair was growing from his scalp as well, mingling with the toxic green colour to make a beautiful mixture of the two colours, yet still prominently green. It was one of the benefits to Jack dying his hair, to give him some originality, a way to distinguish himself from the few other werewolves out there. His trademark. He opened his mouth slightly, baring his teeth, so that he could analyse his canines, which had widened slightly and almost doubled in length. Such a hideous creature to most, Jack thought to himself, but such a beautiful creature once you come to appreciate the fine details.
Jack's eyes glanced downwards at his torso. He was still slim, no doubt about it, and the drastic changes in his physical appearance failed to alter his height in the slightest (much to Jack's dismay). Despite the lack of change, Jack felt stronger, like he could lift 20 times his body weight, like he could fight any of the school bullies who give him a hard time everyday in class, blindfolded. He took off his shirt, so that it didn't stretch once his changing was complete. Black hair had started spreading thickly over his chest and back, shiny and smooth to the touch. He could feel his muscles expanding slightly, the frame of his upper body widening (he might stay slim at the waist, but his chest and shoulders always grew, making him look and feel stronger).
He finally stopped admiring his physique in the mirror, realising that he was nearing the end of his changing. He headed calmly into the bedroom, thankful that his ability to walk on two legs wasn't affected at all by what was happening to him. He sat on the edge of his bed, and reached into the back of the drawer of his bedside table, retrieving a pair of sturdy metal handcuffs. Jack fastened one of the cuffs around his own wrist, and then the next to the metal headboard of his bed frame. He tugged at it with his arm a few times, testing the strength before lying with his back against the wall. Waiting for the changing to be complete. He felt his senses taking over gradually. His sense of smell was heightened, he could hear almost five times as well as normal, and his ability to see in the dark improved, he knew this because gradually his unlit room began to get clearer and clearer.
He started to lose control of his body, learning now that it was easier just to let it happen. Ever since it first started, he had battled to control it, to fight against his anger and his fear. To decline the changing he knew he was oh so capable of initiating at any given moment. He had basically mastered it by now. He could change whenever he felt it was necessary. He could return back to normal just as fast and just as easily. It was all just a matter of concentration and will power.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the same every day. On one day of the month, every month, he couldn't control his animalistic side. He always succumbed to the changing, no matter how hard he fought against it. It was like clockwork, first the eyes, then the teeth and the claws, then the hair, and then the muscles. Lastly it took over his mind. He was no longer himself on that night, merely a vessel. A means for the monster inside him to bring destruction to all it came across, fuelled only by it's longing for blood. Of course he was always present, but he was almost powerless nonetheless. He'd normally be able to stop the process before it was able to take over his mind, but not on the day of the full moon.
He felt it take over his mind now, as if his conscience had been pushed to a dusty corner of his brain, forgotten until dawn came. He watched his arm yank against the handcuffs desperately, trying to free itself from its confinement. All he could do all night was try to suppress the monster's rage. It was obvious that it had the power to break free from the metal, from the house, and so Jack would spend the whole night doing everything in his power to stop it from doing so. He couldn't yet fully terminate the monster's effect, but he could suppress it. He was always exhausted the next morning.
But that was his fate. That was what he was forced to deal with, every month on the night of the full moon. He always fought himself, to stop himself from doing something terrible. It was admittedly, emotionally, mentally, and most of all, physically draining. But he had grown accustomed to it. Whoever said that being a werewolf was easy, anyway?
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A/N Hello again friends!
I hope I didn't surprise you too much with the whole wolf thing, but I gave a couple of hints, and also it's in the tags! But thats the reason Jack kicked Mark out...
I'm trying my best to capture all of the aspects of being a werewolf, but admittedly I know like nothing about them, so please don't get upset with me if I'm getting facts wrong and stuff, I'm trying my best!!
And that brings us to the end of this chapter!! I will see you guys (if you choose to continue on) in the next A/N!!!! :D
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Trust Your Instincts
Fanfiction~Septiplier~ After a traumatic incident, an 18 year old Mark decides that it'd be best for him to get away from the memories, and move halfway across America, in hope that he'll be able to start a new life for himself in California. Within a fe...
