Story cover for Werewolf by Emma678s
Werewolf
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Ongoing, First published Jul 08, 2015
Pain is the only thing that I felt right now, I scream for help, but I know that nobody can help me.

I feel that every single bone of my body, is breaking in little pieces, I can't hold on anymore this pain is getting worse and I feel like if I can't breath, I started hyperventilating, as my heart goes faster. I don't know what is happening to me but I want it to end, so I give up, trying this to end, I close my eyes hoping that this is over.

I woke up in very uncomfortable position, I stand up, and stretch as I look around, but suddenly I realized that I'm in a forest. Then it all comes to me, the pain, the feeling that all of my bones broke...

-FUCK, now where am I- I tell to my self, as I started walking.
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My dream continued the one I'd been having for the past couple of nights. I ran, gasping for breath, through the familiar woods from a dark figure behind me. The faster I tried to run, the slower I seemed to go, until it was like I was running in place. I knew I needed to run. I was terrified of what the figure would do when he caught me. "Mara Leigh," a deep, smooth voice called. It was almost hypnotic. That was new. The figure had never spoke before now. I ran as fast as I could go, eyes searching the forest floor for a big stick or something that I could use to defend myself. "Mara Leigh!" the voice came again, this time more insistent. The forest slowly started to fade and I started to awake to someone shaking my shoulders. "Beau?" I mumbled, turning my head to the side. What's Beau doing in my room this time of night? Why is he shaking me? "Do not call me that name." My eyes flew open as I jumped at the voice from my dream. A face was right in front of mine, and just like the voice, it wasn't Beau. Before I could form a scream, a hand covered my mouth. I tried to bite it but I couldn't get my mouth to open. He's too strong. I started to use my whole body to try to get away, but he crawled on top of me, holding me down. I pulled the hidden knife out from under my pillow and slashed as hard as I could at him, but he just grabbed my wrist and squeezed it until the pain made me drop the knife. Then he grabbed both my hands in one of his and held them over my head. He held me down while I struggled. I grunted and moved and tried to kick and scream, but I only wore myself out. Exhausted, I stopped thrashing and let the tears flow freely down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do, so I just tried to prepare myself for whatever was coming.