Supernatural One-shots

Pain

Hi guys, I'm coming back to this book cause I've got some new ideas, excuse if it's not as good as before as I'm getting back into writing. So, please enjoy ~~

P.s. I have incorporated the possibility of changing into an actual wolf in this lil fic, (so a new type of werewolf in the SPN world!)

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I doubled over in pain, waves of excruciating agony ripped through my small body, coursing through my bones. My face scrunched up as the change began; it would always feel the same - torture.

It started with my hands - which I'd dug into the dirt beneath me, clawing at the earth out of habit and torment - the change a never-ending nightmare. My slim fingers began to elongate, breaking and then realigning to suit the paws of a giant - a wolf. I ground my teeth as the same pain happened with my feet - continuing up my arms and legs before the real punishment began.

Cracking. So much cracking could be heard if you witnessed this devastating scene I endured, the loud sounds of my ribs extending and my spine lengthening, all visible just under my skin. I let out a painful cry-turned whine as my jaw grew out into a long, brown, patchy snout, teeth aching as they enlarged into sharp white fangs, dripping with saliva as I groaned, wanting it to stop.

The change seemed such a long way off finishing, but a second was all it took for the rest of my body to crack into place, for my patchy fur to sprout out of my tan skin and my tail to grow out - bushy, my ears popping up one half-folded down.

So painful - even if lasting a few long dreaded seconds.

In my wolf form I let out a last whine as my body shuddered from the aftermath of pain, I looked around, my bright green orbs focused on the people stood in front of me; scared. I snarled at them, I too, worried.

What will they do?

Backing up slightly, tail hidden between my back legs. I observed the two, both wide-eyed, slightly awed but ultimately petrified of what had happened before them, those two men beginning to realise that this was real, what they'd seen me do was not fiction.

"Dean-," one spoke, the taller one. He seemed more worried now, compared to the other, a handsome green-eyed man. The other's face had changed, turned more hard and stern.

He pulled out a gun.

I panicked, putting my ears back, growling more as I moved further back into the woods - why wasn't I running?

The tall, long-haired one spoke again, "Dean, I thought-"

'Dean' interrupted him, "It doesn't matter Sam, we need to get on with this." He kept the gun aimed at me, throwing a glance at the tall man. "A werewolf. A killer. It has to die."

I whined at that, I didn't want to die! I most certainly wasn't a killer either, if I ever turned wolf it was either for defence or to hunt down a rabbit, maybe a deer if lucky... I never killed anyone.

"We don't have proof it was a werewolf, Dean - even you said it wasn't the bite of a werewolf." Sam reasoned.

Why was he protecting me?

I looked at Sam, then to Dean, my eyes wide with sadness, surely he could see I wasn't a killer - then again, hunters were ones for not caring, especially in the stories I'd heard growing up. I stopped backing away and instead edged forward, with a quick look spared to the gun pointed at me.