Of all the creatures that were made, man is the most detestable

That sounds awesome! Could you link us to it if you do?

Oh yes, most definitely! I’d probably do a link for each chapter, every time it updates.

For now, I’m brainstorming a title as well as some character names. 

I do know at the moment that the main character, our demon friend, is going to be male. I’m leaning towards a female lead scientist, and probably an additional male lead scientist as well, because I’m indecisive. 

Summary; evil supervillain demon (most likely some leader of Fantasy Hell, since I don’t want it to take place on Earth), lab studies, and some vengeful scientific ‘cut it open and see how it works’ torture from one of head scientists affected by said demon. 

Mostly would probably write it as stress relief.

Why did the outside scare so much? Why did the sun disturb them? Who were they, again? What were they? Perhaps they were the hands they saw. Perhaps they were that husk of a creature on the floor they passed by every so often.

All they knew was that outside was dangerous.

Sure! Here’s a few prompts I’ve thought up off the top of my head regarding werewolves.

The werewolf has been taking countless victims in the night, but by day, they are just the sweetest person you could ever imagine. They bake bread for the town, they help children with their work, and they are just the picture perfect citizen. But the town is losing too many people to this werewolf, and nobody can figure out who it is.

A werewolf hunter is hired one day, by one of the terrified and angry townspeople. The hunter is charmed by the baker, who feeds the hunter, helps the hunter, and always points the hunter to the scene of the crime but not to the murderer. How could they? They were just a simple baker, after all. 

“You are beautiful,” the hunter would admire, “why do you not have a mirror to admire yourself with?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the money to afford one.” The baker would reply, and the hunter would hand them a small handheld one. The baker took care to not touch the glass, as to not smudge it.

“Think of it as a token of me, and kiss it when you are lonely.” The hunter had invited.

Days passed, people dwindled, and the werewolf’s rampage through the moons was not a single time stopped. The hunter’s incompetence had them shooed, and the town descended upon itself, fighting and arguing with who the wolf in man’s skin could be. The baker looked into their mirror, distantly, wistfully, thinking of things they could be doing. 

The baker was elbowed amongst the crowd, having held the mirror too close to their face and being too short, smashed the small thing into their face. The glass cracked upon their nose and they’d screamed as it’d cut into their face, a blue sulfur-smelling glow flickering from the lacerations. 

The broken mirror was dropped, and the town turned their eye upon the baker, who backed, then snarled like a cornered, angry dog. 

-

A wolf, hunted together through the night with their twin. They were young, not too young to be helpless but too young to know the world, truly, in their adult years. They fed ruthlessly on livestock, cows and sheep found to be alive one night to be gouged and drained of life the next.

They were young, perhaps reckless, and that was their fall, in retrospect. A farmer who’d had enough of their merciless tyrade against the poorest folk of the kingdom took up arms through the night, waiting, hoping for a proper shot at vengeance. It was more than just the farmer’s pride, or that particular one’s wellbeing. It was to destroy a menace.

They were an ex-soldier, fighting creatures of the night. They would not stand for evil in the land of the poor.

The twins worked together at times, but after fights, would not. That night of all nights was one where only one had ventured off by themselves. They did not see clearly, hazed with anger, and fought thoughtlessly when the farmer had shot them, over, and over, and over again with silver-tipped arrows. The farmer watched as the creature lumbered, falling over after a good shot to the legs.

Perhaps, they went a bit too far on how many arrows sunk into the creature’s flesh. But that didn’t matter, there were still more left in the quiver.

Their howls of agony went unheard, but the premonition of danger had reached their sibling hours much too late, when their twin had failed to return to their meeting place.

The twin found their other gouged, skinned, and dead when they’d ran to the farm. They’d howled in remorse, and they’d caught the attention of a farmer cleaning off their arrows.

-

To keep a werewolf is a hard and harsh task. Some divisions have taken to collars, spiked on the inside to pierce through the dog’s thick neck and giving them undue amounts of agony.

Such a thing couldn’t kill a werewolf, far more was required. Whenever the creature returned to their ‘human’ form, it hung loosely, then, around the creature. 

“Well, you see, [Villain],” the hero staggered to their feet, pointing their sword at the slightly-distant fiend, “it’s powered off love and friendship! Neither of which you have!”

The villain’s face dropped immediately and there was a swath, awkward silence as the [Magical Mcguffin] dropped to the floor. The villain’s eyes welled up, their lip trembled, and they suddenly began to weep unceremoniously.

“Dude.. Not cool.” 

Spin off: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573571/chapters/51434479#workskin

I hadn’t seen this, no! I find this enjoyable, though I think I would enjoy it more if I knew, 100%, that the vampire deserved what they were getting on a personal level (i.e the vampire explicitly having done bad things rather than them getting beat up for just being a vampire). Still enjoyable! Making the vampire drag themselves across the floor for blood.. Man oh man.

“...”