The moon was full and of a bluish hue and Albion was going into a frenzy he had not yet changed and his flesh tingled and hurt as if someone had pierced his flesh with over a million needles.
He paced around the room and bit into his flesh with his very human teeth the change was upon him and it was always worse for werewolves of his kind the ones of the blood moon.
He wanted to revel in his wolf form to run through the mixed woodland to roll in the pine needles and scent through the woods every sense heightened more than in his human form.
Yet he dreaded it, his change was always more painful and more dangerous than that of an average werewolf, everything happened so quick he never got the chance to adjust and the pain was excruciating.
He growled as the first tremor went through him and clicking could be heard from within him as his bones started to shift his flesh rippling beneath his clothes.
The young albino werewolf growled and started to tear at his clothes his mouth set in an animalistic sneer which did not look right on his human features.
He began to tear off his clothes until he was naked, bathed in the moons soft light making his already pigmentless body whiter the colour of the moon itself.
Then the change began with a guttural growl Albion fell to all fours as his body snapped and popped his flesh seeming to broil as the spasms grew more intense, his flesh seeming to tear he let out an agonised scream as his shoulder blades dislocated and seemed to fracture ripping through his flesh sending him falling hard onto his stomache as his arms could no longer support him.
He screamed again as his arms and legs went through the same change his hip bones tearing through his flesh and reworking themselves followed by his spine so that he looked like some sort of accident victim his flesh torn and bleeding, his muscles torn and his changing skeleton bursting through his torn muscles bending and contorting to that of the wolf.
It was always the same nothing went easy during the change, the same agonised process sometimes he wished he could take some painkillers but they would probably only succeed in slowing down the change.
His bones broke and reset several times his muscles changing becoming more canine bloody saliva dripped from Albion mouth as his facial features began to change his teeth falling from his mouth blood pouring from his mouth.
Small white cusps of sharp pointed teeth breaking through the gummy mouth and elongating as his nose and head seemed to ripple as the bones started to shift his skull splitting open momentarily exposing the sinew and brain beneath before they melded together again into a more canine shape.
His nose seeming to elongate and his flesh tearing as the bones started to elongate into a wolven snout.
His teeth growing longer until they were wickedly sharp the metamorphosis almost complete, he looked like a flayed deformed wolf his body devoid of skin and fur his network of muscles bulging and shifting as they found there new form.
The flayed looking wolf creature whined as blood pooled from his bloodied body it's eyes swivelled in its grotesque visage the muscles of his face contorted into a pained snarl causing a further shower of blood to rain down on the ground from his skinless body.
Only when the process was complete did the skin race to grow all over Albion exposed muscles and sinews covering him completely in minutes.
The pain had receded and Albion panted with exhaustion the fast change taking it out of him why did it always have to be so painful?
When others went through theirs with ease compared to him, it didnt seem fair.
He resembled a giant deformed wolf devoid of hair all wrinkled and pasty white in the moonlight only then did his flesh start to tingle and white clumps of fur rushed to cover his body until the change was complete.
He continued to pant and whine for a few minutes as the residual pain still sung in his nerves, as he got energy from the moon he felt stronger he raised his large head skywards and let out a long drawn out howl that seemed to carry for miles.
He needed to hunt his muzzle twitched along with his whiskers as he scented the door, he padded over to it and grasped the doorknob in a deformed hand shaped paw and recoiled with a snarl as the silver residue burned his flesh.
He began to pace around the room always the same, they locked him in this cell during the change knowing he could get very violent and could inflict serious harm on his pack mates.
He paced the room looking for a way out snuffling under the door he growled he felt trapped he ran at the door throwing himself at it several times only succeeding in bruising his newly formed wolf self.
He snarled his lip lifting exposing wickedly sharp teeth as he sat on his haunches thinking of a way out, he saw the window large and looming four feet up from the ground and he scrabbled on his hind legs his bones yet again shifting until he was in bipedal form which was a lot less painful.
He grabbed the iron bars on the window and twisted them until they snapped and came free in his hands, before he threw himself at the window once more smashing through it his wolf form seeming to revert back to its quadruped form as it flew through the air from the second story window.
His legs flexing slightly and his body seeming to twist slightly cat like as it plummeted towards the ground.
He flexed his legs bunching them slightly so they took the impact the shock rippling from through his bones making him cry out as they complained.
His body repairing the damage straight away he panted with a growl looking up at the large manor house a snarl forming on his slips before he snorted and left the gardens heading for the woods he needed to feed.
He ran forwards into the woods his white form huge and massive bigger than werewolves were supposed to be he marked his territory the acrid stench smoking up where he had been the spring grass immediately withering becoming dry and dead the tree bark where he had marked crumbling away exposing some of the heartwood.
He made his way into the woods his predatory instincts completely honed in he could smell prey and all the paths that they had trodden and it drove him into a frenzy saliva dripped from his muzzle and a deep growl came from within his stomache the change always gave him an appetite and nothing sated it more than human flesh.
He padded through the woods snuffling through last Autumn leaf litter picking up traces of scents which he knew were human.
His muzzle wrinkled as the sweet smell of corruption hit his nostrils, someone had died here less than two weeks ago and the smell although rotting was unmistakably human.
His tail gave a single wag and his steps seemed to be more determined as he trotted over to the carcass which had been eaten by many scavengers he licked his muzzle, he preferred fresh meat but he would not look a gift horse in the mouth.
He lowered his muzzle and buried it deep within the innards of the open chest cavity and stomache area and feasted on what had not been scavenged his white muzzle stained red with the putrid mess which had once been human.
After he had fed he licked his muzzle clean he now felt stronger he snarled and leapt onto a higher piece of ground and threw his head back and let out a long drawn out howl he was king of these woods and he showed no fear.
He was brazen in his exploits he knew that no human or beast could defeat him, he even suspected that his own father was somewhat scared of him he smirked at the thought.
He did not realise how visible he was and how much his white coat stood out in the moonlight and the dark forest he seemed to glow he was that white monstrous and huge.
He did not know that hunters bounty was higher for that of an albino pelt or even better for a trophy kill if he did he might not have been so brazen as it was the hunter could not believe his luck having such a large impressive beast in his sights.
The hunter crept forward on his stomache combat crawling as he made his way through the dense undergrowth gritting his teeth as bramble tore at his skin but he bore it no heed if he was to scream out the werewolf's attention would be on him and the element of surprise was gone.
He had his gun loaded several rounds in the chamber so he did not have to reload he waited until he was so close he could almost hear the beast breathing and he could see the clouds of steam coming forth from the beasts maw.
He could hear the shift of its pads as the crisp frosty leaves crinkled under the beasts pads, he was a beauty alright in a macabre kind of way massive and malign his eyes reflecting red in the light of the moon seeming to glow.
Oh he could not wait to get his hands on this ones pelt he got excited just thinking about it, he leveled his gun which was silenced and had leaves around it so that the metal could not be seen.
He smirked as he traced it on the unsuspecting werewolf and fired.
Albion moved at the last minute the silver bullet just grazing his flesh leaving a deep channel in his shoulder he grunted with the pain as blood started to stain his pelt.
The burning pain searing his flesh the deep channel seeming to smoulder smoke coming from the fur and issuing from the wound his blood seeming to boil from where the bullet had hit him.
He growled his hackles rising as he scented the air his eyes seeming to blaze in the reflected light as he tried to detect the hunter a malicious grin crossing his features almost a smirk as he bounded in the direction of the hunter.
The hunter now becoming the hunted............
The hunter looked on in fear he had missed and given away his position shit he thought as the beast powered towards him gaining ground quickly he could see the bloodied slaver from its jaws and knew it had eaten something.....something he did not want to think about as as the huge behemoth drew closer the smell of rot and carrion came with it a smell which made the hunter want to gag.
He leveled his gun again and let go two rounds in quick succession he saw the bullets strike home in the werewolf chest and shoulder making him topple over backwards.
The hunter grinned the lycan would be his yet and he smirked as it writhed and tried to regain its footing but failing.
Its legs seeming to flail about like a dying fly, the hunter smirked as he made his way forward knowing the throws of a dying werewolf when he saw one.
Albion was running towards the hunter the blood singing in his veins as he hurtled towards him at full pelt, the human would be his he could not wait to feast upon the despicable victims flesh he would make him suffer for what he had done make his death slow and painful.
A guttural chuckle seemed to emanate from the beasts more he was almost his he could not wait to gorge on his hapless prey flesh.
He increased the pace to close the gap between them he could smell his victims fear almost palpable his grin spread into a maniacal smirk this guy was his.
He did not see the gun which was still camouflaged until it was too late, he felt the bullets slam into his flesh knocking him off his feet and the searing heat that the wounds gave him his blood seemingly starting to boil as froth issued forth from the bullet wounds.
Shit! why didn't he think that the hunter would have more ammo, it was too late now as the wounds burnt the smell of burning flesh strong in the air.
Albion tried to rise but his body would not let him he just flopped around on the ground like a dying fish his frothy blood foaming from the bullet wounds.
He was in agony he had never felt pain like it again he tried to rise from his feet, again he failed and he lay on his side gasping for air as it seemed all energy had left him.
The hunter drew closer a smirk on his face as he saw the stricken werewolf, his prize, his trophy and his money packet this guy would fetch at least about £ 5 billion if not more oh he was in luck.
He started to lay out his ingredients putting down his gun and laying it on the grass getting ready to prepare the ingredients which would prevent the werewolf from reverting back to human form once dead.
Albion whined and thrashed about on the grounds his large hand like paws scrabbling at the earth digging small channels as the pain went through him he writhed in agony frothing at the mouth
as the silver ravaged his system he grunted he felt like he was going to die but then he snapped out of it a growl coming to him.
If he was going to die he would take the bastard with him he snarled and forced himself to his feet, his right arm useless and dragging as he closed the distance slowly his body lurching along the agony clear he had never felt this bad it was excruciating he whined.
His prey was only inches away now and unarmed, he had let his guard down a weak but triumphant grin crossed Albion face as with the last of his strength he launched himself at the human.
He began to tear into his body biting down deeply into his flesh slowly tearing him limb from limb and feasting on him as he did so making sure to attack the none vital parts first to keep him alive as long as possible.
The hunters frenzied screams seemed to lend energy to the werewolf and as he feasted on his body making sure that he saw him eating the none vital body parts so that it would torture the humans mind and add to his horror.
After about 10 minutes he dispatched the human and gorged on his flesh ripping out his intestines and munching on them almost hoovering them up before starting on the more tender organs pulling out the still pulsating heart and crushing it between his jaws chewing it up and swallowing it.
He began to feel stronger the more he feasted on this human and he realised he would survive, the bullet wounds hurt like hell.
He knew they would for a long time and that he would have to stay in his wolven form for a month or more to recover from the silver poisoning and that he would be very weak for a while.
He needed the help of pack mate to remove the bullets but who could he turn to?
His father hated him and the rest of the pack feared him seeing him as cursed, he never felt so alone at that moment and a whine left him his ears falling back to his large skull a single tear leaking from his eye it got to him sometimes that he had no none.
He shook his pelt and snarled at his momentary weakness he knew what he needed and he knew how to get it he sniffed at the ointment the hunter had been preparing.
He knew what it was for and that it could stave off the change but also he knew that too much and he could never revert back from this form.
He sniffed it again the foul concoction burning his sensitive nose he knew it to be a deadly poison but he also knew that in small doses it could be beneficial minus the silver of course but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Kill or cure, he sighed as he licked up some of the bitter tasting paste the foul substance burning his mouth and insides as he licked it up he felt the burning sensation go through him increasing the pain and he almost vomited as the substance burnt at his insides.
He got back to his feet with a whimper and dragged his wounded body back to the pack house, every step increasingly slow as the silver entered his bloodstream and seared his organs and flesh as it burnt through his system he would have to seek help but who would he turn to?
His pack and his own father would probably love to see the back of him, he dragged himself into a rundown stable still with straw coating the ground before the world went dark and he knew no more.
His last thought was that he was alone in the world that his pack would not be there for him and that he would probably die here.