Chocolate Deluxe with a side of Werewolf

Fifty-three. Full Moon Practice

Every month, the full moon takes wield of Dylan's sanity in a series of racing, mind-altering events. First, the feeling of rage transcends his entire body, intercepting his own emotions. He could've been completely content or the happiest wolf on the block seconds prior, but none of it mattered against the intensity of the foreign intrusion. 

Dylan's body involuntarily morphed into his true form, shedding the guise of skin for thick fur, razor-sharp claws, and lethal canines. His vision was the last to go. Waves of red emerged from the corner of his eyes, consuming his plane of sight faster than a blackout. All this occurred in the span of one, single second. Dylan couldn't stop the alteration, succumbing to the moon with his final thoughts of a breathtaking Chinese-Canadian girl with warm brown eyes, silky dark chocolate hair, and a smile that offered one last sane emotion. 

Then there was insanity and all the blinding rage, ferocity, and frustration that came with the red madness. Dylan couldn't formulate a single thought in this state, left to feel the depth of his darkest emotions, brought forward by the lunar cycle. He didn't know what he was doing outside his mind, having surrendered his body and his senses to the moon.  

All he could do was wait in the farthest corners of the mental storm, his only remedy being the crack of dawn. 

When Dylan eventually regained consciousness, with his control returned, he immediately registered that he wasn't alone in his dungeon chamber. He knew their scents and heard the steady heart rate of a sorcerer and kitsune with a quickened one of a witch. However, Dylan also noticed the dungeon was in terrible condition despite the room already looking horrendous beforehand.

First off, a thick layer of soot coated everything in sight. Much of the wall was damaged by countless claw marks and holes, while debris cluttered the banged-up floor. Many of the cobble work stones were overturned or shattered, and the tiny incandescent lightbulb was smashed. All the chains — a precaution on Dylan's part— appeared worn out as if they were on their final use despite being newly ordered. 

Dylan laid near the wall that sustained the most damage. He slowly lifted himself to a sitting position, and a sudden jolt of pain ripped from the palms of his hands, up his arm, and through the rest of his body. He looked down and noticed his entire arms were reddened and covered with burning blisters. His fingers and palms sustained the worst damage, missing sections of skin. Fortunately, Dylan possessed enhanced healing, and he could see his dermis repairing itself before him. He'd give it an hour till his skin looked new again. 

Every other muscle in Dylan's body ached from the full moon madness. He rested his back against the wall, ignoring all the jagged pieces that poked and prodded his back. In fact, those irregularities helped to keep Dylan's tired body upright. He looked to the doorway with heavy eyelids, the only area that looked unaffected by the disaster that took over the cramped room. 

Theo, Hiroko, and Lin stood close to the shut door; all dressed in black. While Theo wore a designer tracksuit and Hiroko rocked a traditional kimono, Lin sprouted sweatpants and a long-sleeved work-out shirt. Theo's palm-sized orbs hung above the group, showcasing their outfits and offering enough light for the rest of the dungeon. The efficiency of those orbs did not make Dylan miss the broken lightbulb. 

The orbs also illuminated everyone's exhaustion, further sparking Dylan's dread. 

Theo gave Dylan a tentative wave, almost as if he was double-checking if Dylan's sanity was in place. When he noticed Dylan's perplexity, he grinned out of relief. "Welcome back, bro! Wait, we don't need to look at your birthday suit." Theo reached into his fanny pack and pulled out a pack of facial tissues. He took one out and held it in front of Lin. "If you could be so kind as to do the honours."