I AM Lycanthrope.

1

Something was wrong with me.

I sat in my 12th grade class tapping my foot impatiently as my body became more and more agitated. I felt like my body was on fire and the slightest push or stupid word spoken by some stupid individual was enough for me to snap and rip someone's head off.

I knew I had anger issues. Ever since my thirteenth birthday my moods had just been changing and even though I've gotten more withdrawn, I still couldn't quelch the subsurface anger and hatred I had for everyone. I didn't know why or what caused it.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the ringing of the bell and I ground my teeth together as I roughly pushed past my fellow students. They were accustomed to me by now and those who were too slow to get out of my way had to suffer the consequences.

"Mr. Forde." A voice called and I suppressed my snarl as I turned hard eyes to face my English lit professor. "Might I have a word?"

"The bell just rung." I snapped. "I'm pretty sure that means school is out."

Turning, I started to leave the classroom but a firm hand on my own had my suppressed snarl coming out loud enough to be mistaken for a growl. Still, the professor was not moved.

"I think it's best if you sit here until the school clears out." He spoke, softly but firmly and although the voice was enough to calm me, the anger in me boiled up and overpowered my logical thought process.

"And I think you should unhand me before you lose it." I growled low and threateningly.

Before even giving him a chance to comply, I snatched my arm away and angrily stormed down the fast emptying hall. Heading to my locker, I snatched my books that needed to be changed and stuffed them into my bag before heading to my Audi that was parked outside.

Without missing a beat, I was behind the wheel and speeding towards the place I was forced to call home. A mere half hour later I was slamming my car door shut and only stopped for a brief second to try and pull myself together before heading inside. It was just after four but I knew both Miranda and Justin would be home and I braced myself for impact.

"You're home." Came Miranda's voice as I tried and failed to sneak up the stairs towards my room.

"Hmm." I grumbled and started walking.

"And how was classes?"

I rolled my eyes before turning to face the middle aged woman. "Just because a stupid piece of paper says you're my adoptive mother doesn't make you my actual mother." I snapped but regretted the words instantly. Before I even had a chance to apologize Justin stepped into the hall and his firm voice was heard bouncing off the walls.

"And just because we're your adoptive parents doesn't give you the right to act like a spoiled, rich, brat. You're two weeks away from turning 18, stop acting like a child."

"I'm sorry."

He inclined his head and I took that as his dismissal as I headed up the stairs just barely hearing Miranda state that dinner would be soon. I pushed open the door to my too spacious room and kicked the door shut with my boot before slumping onto my bed.

I really didn't want to or liked being so rude and angry all the time but it was as though I had no control over my emotions. Itching for a long hot shower, I rolled off my comfy bed and shredded my clothing before heading into the again, too big shower. The hot water felt amazing against my tense skin and I pressed my forehead to the tiled wall, closing my eyes and hoping to clear my head.

These therapeutic showers were the closest thing to an actual therapist and I sighed as I felt the tensions slowly starting to slip away.

I honestly couldn't say what it was that was making me feel this way. I was adopted by Miranda and Justin when they were a year into their marriage and I was just a year old and even the people at the agency didn't know a thing about me before then. I was dropped off at the door like most of the kids there and found a home no more than two months after.

I didn't want to know why I was given up and I didn't care and I was the best kid they could ask for. I called them mom and dad, they said they loved me time and again and all was well. I had tons of friends and even the frigging teachers liked me but as soon as my thirteenth birthday came around, I just changed. I got more distant; I stopped talking to all my friends, stopped laughing and playing and just went through the motions like a crazy teenaged girl.

It was bad enough I had to deal with my moods but then once a month for exactly three days I'd go off the rails and screw the first girl that'll let me. It was like I was never satisfied.

Now it was happening again.

I groaned aloud as I felt my lower half hardening and I bit back any more sounds as I rested my head against my hand which pressed against the tile, fist balled. My free had made its way South and a shiver escaped me when I felt my semi hard length within my palm.

Slowly I massaged it, eyes still closed as I welcomed the overpowering feeling that somehow tried to suffocate me inside the locked shower. I groaned when my hand increased and my breath became shallow as my nipples hardened.

I was trying hard not to make any sounds but I was slowly losing the battle as my insides heated and the familiar sensation of something within that was trying to surface took over. Without thought, the groan slipped out and bit by bit I slipped out of control as my body felt under the reigns of another force; one more powerful, ruthless and insatiable.

I threw my head back and groaned loudly as my essence splashed against the wall only to be washed away by one of the three shower heads connected above me. When my body was completely emptied, I slumped against the tile breathing hard and far from quenched.