#wside

The problem is not wake up with blood on your hands... It's wake up with blood on your hands, and like it.

“... We're werewolves. We don't get to judge 'crazy.”

“Another werewolf thing. Like most animals, we spent a large part of our lives engaged in the three Fs of basic survival. Feeding, fighting and... reproduction.”

He should be dead within thirty seconds. The werewolf heart is about two-thirds the size of a human’s. But in order to shrink, first it has to stop. In other words, he has a heart attack. All the internal organs are smaller. So while he's having his heart attack, he's having liver and kidney failure too. And if he stops screaming, it's not because the pain has dulled—his throat, gullet and vocal chords are tearing and reforming. He literally can't make a sound. By now the pituitary gland should be working overtime, flooding his body with endorphins to ease some of the pain. But that too is shut down. Anyone else would have died of shock long ago, but it won't let him. And that's the pain I find most remarkable. It drags him through the fire and keeps him alive and even conscious to endure every second. Nothing like this could just evolve. Is it the fingerprint of God? An impossible lethal curse spread by tooth and claw. Victim begets victim begets victim. It's so cruel it's... perfect.

“Another werewolf thing. Like most animals, we spent a large part of our lives engaged in the three Fs of basic survival. Feeding, fighting and... reproduction.”