The day was hot, a wet heat. The kind that made your clothes sticky before you even put them on. Mark lay in bed, starring at the glass lamp in the center of the ceiling, knowing that any moment his mother would burst through the door and turn it on. He was late, he already knew that but something inside him made him tired without even stirring. His muscles felt as though he'd worked all day and his  bones seem to ache from repeated motion, though he had done nothing.

The white flash hurt and he quickly covered his eyes with an arm trying to blot out the wicked light. His ears hearkened a new pain as his mother sharp tone split the air. “Mark! Why on earth are you still in bed? Do you know what time it is? Up! Now!” His mother seemed more irritable than normal, but Mark guessed that was due to the unruly heat. It was enough to make anyone cranky.

“Young man you'd better be out of this room when I get back or so help me...” She let the threat stand in the air knowing that the unknown threat was far more effective than a voiced one. Mark groaned as he willed his body to move, the sound in his throat a bit lower than he remembered. He was groggy and paid no mind to it. As he stepped down to the floor he expected the nice cool sensation of the marble tile. No matter the weather it always seemed to stay cool but today he winced. It was like ice.

Mark walked gingerly toward the bathroom, his legs protesting the whole way.  This day looked to be rather rough for him as he looked in the mirror. He looks like crap. His eyes were sunken, his face had a sprinkling of stubble and generally he looked like he'd already been through a war. “Marcus Samuel Richards! You'd better be out of that bed!” His mom's persistence made his head throb. He dragged the toothbrush over his teeth and cried out. The pain was intense and his eyes blurred. He looked down at the bloody brush in his hand and threw it. Today definitely wasn't his day.  

Mark sighed and went to pull on some clothes wincing as his feet touched the cold tile again. “You'll miss the bus!” His mother's voice called from the other side of the door. He swung it open wide and was greeted by...nothing?  He looked down over the banister and saw his mom down by the front door. “Clothes now mister!” Mark blushed realizing he'd just burst into the hall in only his underwear. He scrambled to dress and forced his protesting body to dress and hurried down the stairs. He saw the bus pull up and made a mad dash for it. He looked up at the bus driver who merely nodded and poked a thumb towards the back. He sighed, sat down and yelped! He looked at the seat, expecting a pine cone or a mouse trap but saw only the dingy leather. “Hey Marky, forget how to sit now?” The jeering tone echoed in his mind as he turned seeing  Kevin Millwin, the school's resident asshole. “Shove it Millie,” Mark responded using the same tone and sat again, this time more gingerly. “Quiet down both of you!” the bus driver had turned and his stern tone let both boys know he'd stop the bus and make them walk. Mark wasn't even paying attention to the words, but rather the splitting pain in his ears. It was like someone had turned up the volume on the whole world.

The rest of the bus ride was uneventful. Mark tried desperately to find a comfortable position but for naught. The heat seemed scantly bearable for him but none of the other boys seemed to notice. Mark walked towards his first class, stopping by his locker to grab a book.

“Hey Mark!” Mark winced. “Wow man what happened to you today. You look like you got hit by a truck or something.” There was Anthony, one of Mark's only friends, but a bit of a loud mouth. His very voice making Mark's head throb.

“Yeah my mom screamed my head off this morning and it feels like its about to explode.”  

“Wow yeah man, you must have just run out of there. Ya know girls think beards are manly and all but the in between phase, not so much.” Anthony smacked Mark's face and Mark could feel it drag over stubble. “Hey knock it off Tony. This day can't get much worse.” As if to smite him Mark felt a itch on his back, which quickly spread. “Gah! Damn Murphy” Mark itched the best he could hearing Anthony's laughter gave him pause. Half the hall was giggling at him. Then the magic that is a school bell sent teens running for classes and Mark was no exception. At least his first class was easy.

Mark stepped into Mr. Dagun's history class just as the other students were taking their seats. “Perfect. Something gone right.” Mark thought to himself. That is of course, until he sat down in his chair. The pain from his butt made him cling to his desk and he grit his teeth. This brought more pain and he could taste blood in his mouth. He stayed steady as it dulled into a throbbing and opened his eyes to his classes starring at him. “Are you okay Mark?” Mr. Dagun was looking at him though coke bottle glasses and rubbing his shoulder.  “I think so sirrr” Mark looked as the spinning room came to a stop and his teacher came into focus. “Well you gave us all quite a scare for a moment there. If you feel anything like that again I am sending you to the nurse oh and” Mr. Dagun handed Mark a handkerchief. “Might want to wipe your mouth a bit.” Mark took the hankie and wiped his mouth surprised at the thick sticky drool hanging from his lips. He looked on his desk seeing it had dripped there too and quickly wiped it up when he saw a drop of blood. He didn't want the teacher to send him to the nurse. He'd rather jump over a barbed wire fence than put up with her.

The class began and Mark tried his best to pay attention, but it was more than he could handle with the insistent aches and itches his body was assailing him with.  He didn't know how he was going to make it through the day like this. The bell shook him out of his stupor a new round of pain as he winced. He stood slowly and turned to see Mr. Dagun walking up to him. “Mark I think you might want to go see the nurse anyways, you don't look so well.”

“Mr. Dagun smells good.” Mark thought, then wondered why that would come up in his mind. The old man pursed his lips making his white beard quiver a bit. Normally that would make anyone in their right mind laugh, which is of course why he did it, but Mark mind was following the smell. It was ripe apples and a hint of tobacco, and reminded him of his grandfather. He didn't realize he'd closed his eyes and was sniffing the air until Mr. Dagun cleared his throat. Mark looked at the man. “I am not sure what's gotten into you young man but I think you'd better figure it out and fast,” Mr. Dagun turned muttering about odd kids these days. Mark stood slowly his body protesting once more. It helps to bend over a bit as he walked. He was definitely going to need some sleep tonight. Again to his locker and, Mark's heart sank a little, Anthony's charming voice. “Man you look worse now if that's possible.”

“Thanks, it feels like the whole band is playing in my head.” He grimaced as he turned the lock, the scrap of the metal sliding over its circular face like nails on a chalkboard to him. “I swear if I make it through this day, I'll never eat another candy in my life.” Mark said under his breath, breath that was becoming more and more labored. It was almost as if he were panting...

“Hey Mark, don't you worry. Old Mrs. Hubbard should give you a nice nap to recover.” Anthony grinned. Mark tried his best to grin back but moving his face hurt and he didn't want to risk Anthony seeing his gums bleed or worse, drool all over himself. He didn't look forward to her class but Anthony was probably right, he'd get a good nap. Mark chuckled to himself as he tried to forget the class before Mrs. Hubbard, Mr. Wiclen's math class. He shuddered thinking about it. If anyone could make a day worse it was him. “I'd almost rather go to the nurse” Mark thought, until he remembered the last time he went. Needles. Mark hated needles. Mrs Barkey always had them though. Mark shuddered again as he willed his body towards his chemistry class. “Maybe Mr. Keitly will burn down the lab and we could go home.” Anthony laughed, the sounds making Mark bite back a yelp. “That's not too unlikely a scenario ya know Mark. C'mon. We'll be late.”

The students filed in slowly filling the small lab. Mark and Anthony found a table near the back and Mark tried his best to be invisible. It hurt when he sat down, and his hands ached as he gripped the tabletop controlling his pain as best he could. His skin felt hotter now, like he was wearing a thick coat or something and the itching continued despite his occasional scratching. The lab stank something awful too. To Mark it seemed like they'd spilled every chemical in the place and he covered his nose. To his surprise it was cold, runny and wet. As he probes his fingers over it, ignoring the aches, it felt swollen...no! It felt like it was swelling. He turned to Anthony and in a hushed voice said “Man I think I hit my nose on something.” Mark opened his hand so Anthony could see. Anthony suppressed a chuckle. “Yeah man its bright red to boot. How the hell'd you do that?”

“I dunno, this whole day is getting weirder and weirderrr.” Mark reached for his throat as the last sound trailed of in a strange growling noise. “Well Mark did you bring your dog to school? or are you practicing for the school talent show?” Mr. Keitly's dry tone left a ripple of giggles. “Sorry Mr. Keitly,” was all Mark could muster, his physical ailments drawing more attention. The teacher continued but the rest of the class was a blur for Mark, his focus was on control, the pain, the itching, and not dunking himself in a bathtub of ice from the heat.

The bell was a painful relief to Mark. It signals the day moving on and a new bout of pain in his ears. He waves a quick goodbye to Anthony and headed to the restroom which was blissfully empty despite the break. He did his business and went to wash his face. Looking in the mirror he realized why everyone was saying things. Mark starred at his swollen nose, no longer red but blackish. He'd have to explain to his mom how he bruised his nose. He glanced around and ducked into a stall as the itching resumed with vigor and lifted his shirt. Mark gasped at what he saw. Black hairs were all over his belly and a few small bumps oddly aligned in rows. Then he heard the bell. He was late! Forgetting the odd hair and ignoring the screams of his muscles he bolts to his math class, knowing it would most definitely make his day worse.

Mark made it to his class in the nick of time and remembered to sit gingerly. Then he noticed he was panting, his tongue sticking out of his mouth; the others kids were giving him odd looks. He tried to stop pulling his tongue back in but it felt bigger, like his mouth was full of gum. “Mark! Cease that ridiculousness immediately.”  Mr. Wiclen's voice was as cold as always, and his sharp gaze made Mark forget himself. He whimpered. In any other class this would elicit a round of laughter, but in Mr. Wiclen's class, everyone was just as cold sober as Mark was. “Ahem, now class if you will all clear your desks we have a quiz today.” The teachers announcement was greeted by a round of suppressed groans as everyone slowly complied. Mark picked up his pencil, or at least he tried to. He found his hands were swollen, especially at the fingertips. A brief shadow covered him and he knew without looking as the skinny old man lay down a quiz on his desk. “You have 10 minutes, starting now!” Mark forced the pencil into his hand and gasped in pain. His shoes felt like they were crushing his feet. His whole body shuddered and he gripped the edge of the desk, pulling his face down and involuntarily grit his teeth.

Mark went deaf, the sound of his heartbeat flooding his ears as he looked at his hands. He tried to scream as whitish claws broke through the fingernails but his voice was gone. “Mr. Richards! What is the meaning of this!” His teacher muffled voice getting through. Mark turned his face up, his whole body taunt and opened his mouth to speak, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I...don't....” The words twisting over his tongue were cut short as his face moved forward with a crack. He felt the metal in the desk give out as his body flexed, tearing off the top. He turned and grasped suddenly at his friend Anthony. “Tonrrry...helpth...meeeee” Anthony just starred in fear and Mark felt his shoes tear, a moment of relief. Then pain, a lot of it. He looked over a hairless snout down at his feet as they grew longer, the toenails already bearing claws and hair. It was all Mark could do to stay in the chair. The feeling inside was growing, a burning fire that seemed to be lighting. A large back spasm jolted Mark back to reality and he fell out of his chain landing on his hands. Now he screamed, long and loud, his spine stretched and his chest expanded. A new pressure was felt against his pants. His butt hurt and he turned over onto his back desperately trying to get his pants off. His eyes fluttered up to the fearful starring eyes of his classmates frozen in shock. He reached out again to Anthony, clawed fingers reaching in vain as black hair spread over them.

Anthony couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was like something out of a horror movie. His friend Mark lay on his back, growing hair and claws. As he watched Mark tore off his pants and between his legs Anthony could see a tail and he had a sheath, much like a dog. When Mark reached out to him, he tried to will his hand to grasp the paw-like hand but his body refused to move. He looked around, the rest of the class seeming as enthralled as he. Another loud crack brought his attention back to his friend, the short snout grew further and Anthony swallowed hard seeing the large fangs spill over Mark's now black lips. His screams had degraded into bestial growls and yelps. There was no doubt anymore. Anthony knew that his friend Mark was a werewolf.

Mark's eyes were unfocused, colors seemed to dull and every little motion seemed sharper. His whole body was engulfed in itching his back arched and with a loud and final crack, the pain vanished. Mark rolled over onto his hand and knee's panting, his body shivering from the ordeal. His T-shirt was tight over his chest but his furry arms let him know something was very wrong. He put a foot down, amazed at the ease he could stand. Then the fire came back, not painful but burning. He unknowingly tore the shirt from his body and roared! His eyes locked on his teacher who withered under the gaze. Mr. Wiclen starred at the black monster starring at him and wished for once that he'd been nicer to the boy it once was. The beast crouched and walked up slowly to him, the claws clicking on the tile floor. The man felt instinct rise, to run, to hide. His heartbeat skyrocketed. To the beast that was Mark, the smell of fear hung so heavy in the air he need not sniff. This was the one that had wronged him, this was the one that made him afraid. He lunged grasping the mans shirt in both hands and lifted him like a rag doll snarling in his face. The teacher's mind could handle no more and he fainted, his body limp in Mark paws. He dropped the man, a bit of the human reaching through, knowing he'd almost just torn out the man's throat. He shivered again, and turned to the class. The tension was palatable as people glanced towards the door. Judging if they could escape. He locked eyes with Anthony, his eyes fearful but deeper he saw...recognition? The burning returned, he had to run, to hunt! He snarled again, the students jumping at the sound, then he was out the door, running down the hall. A poor teacher in the hall bore witness as Mark pushed through the door, her papers falling from limp fingers.

Anthony was the first to move after the exit of the wolf man, peeking around the corner. “He's gone guys.” He heard himself saying. The classroom was filled with sighs as students flopped down. As he looked at the broken desk, with spots of blood and hair,  Anthony had other plans in mind. He walked out of the room, out towards the old football shed. No one followed him, he doubted any would even guess he was going after Mark. He wasn't at all sure it was a good idea either, but he figured that Mark would go where he was the most comfortable. As he ducked through the broken doorway he heard a soft whimpering. Like a dog does when its master leaves. “Mark?”

Mark turned seeing a man enter the shed, he was about to growl, the fire telling him to kill the intruder to his den but then he sniffed. It was Anthony, he knew and the relief rolled through his foreign body and a whimper rolled from his muzzle. “Dude are you okay?” Anthony's voice, painful as it was earlier was the most welcome sound Mark could think of. “Off courrrse noth” The words odd in his new mouth came out sounding rather silly and he chuckled inwardly. Anthony walked a bit closer watching Mark the whole time, the scent of fear rising. “Thude I'm noth gonna bite,” Anthony snickered a bit and sat down. “I think you should stick with the snarling and growling. English seems a bit of a stretch.” To Mark it was the old Tony and he smiled. The look on Anthony's face stopped him and he laughed, the sound deep and guttural. “I guesth that I shodn't smile. You look rrratherrr scarrred.” Anthony snickered again. “Well your new dental work is rather intimidating ya know. So umm, what does it feel like?”

Mark thought about that. It all felt so... so... normal? He lifted a hand and flexed it, feeling the claws curve. He couldn't move the fingers are far but as he reached down and picked up a rogue coke can, it seemed to work just fine. His legs baffled him though. They felt right and walking on them was easy but they looked, well...like a dogs legs. “Ith feelths fine. Ith odd rrreally.” Mark noticed that Anthony had scooted a little closer. “Umm man could I like, ya know, touch your arm or something?” Mark laughed again but thinking about it, it kinda made sense so he held out his hand. Anthony cautiously took it, feeling the rough pads on Mark's hand and the fur. “Heh, now you've learned how to shake what else can I teach ya?” Mark felt the fur on his neck rise and his lips parted showing teeth. Anthony backed away quickly. “I AM NOT SOME DOG!” The words came out clear and fierce, even to his own pointy ears and Anthony backed away. “Dude sorry I was just trying to lighten the mood,” He gulped eying Mark's claws. “I justh turned into a monsterrr.” Mark collapsed onto the floor, whimpering once more. Anthony paused and then gave him a pat on the back. “It's cool man, we'll find a way to get you back to normal. I mean you're a werewolf right? Don't they change back and forth?”

Mark looked up at him with wet yellow eyes. “I surrre hope tho” They stayed in the shed for a bit, chatting, trying to figure things out, but ultimately as the sun set, Mark was as furry as ever. Anthony snuck out and got some hamburgers which to Mark smelled utterly horrid but he ate the meat part. Anthony had also brought a few sleeping bags. “I just told my mom I was sleeping at a friends house, she won't know.” His grin still gave Mark a bit of hope. As he listened to his friends soft breathing he knew he was asleep, but as the full moon rose overhead, Mark felt a restlessness. His body wanted to run and...he leaned back pointing his nose to the sky and howled. It was long and it felt so great. Like a deep longing he had never known was filled in that moment. He ran out, through the forest out behind the school, snapping at rabbit as they bounded into their home. It was fun, it was exciting. The whole world seemed so alive to him. Then he saw the sky lightening and made his way back to the shed, finding Anthony still snoozing soundly. As he walked in pain rushed through him and he snarled jarring Anthony awake. His muzzle pushed in, feeling much like someone had punched him in the face. He felt the same with his tail, the welcome appendage felt much like a pole being shoved up  his back. All the fur seemed to suck into the skin beneath. He felt his dick flop free of its sheath and covered his crotch quickly, a sense of decency seizing him as he realized he was nude. The reverse process seemed much faster thankfully, but all the exertion of the day before hit him hard. Anthony looked up and laughed throwing him a pair of pants. “I figured you'd need some if we figured out how to change you back.” Mark turned and quickly slipped them on noticing that not all of the hair was gone. He looked down at his fingernail's and noticed they were thicker, and a quick probe of his tongue told him his teeth were sharper than he remembered. He grabbed one nail and a little tug told him it wasn't a fingernail. “What's up man?” Anthony was looking perplexed. “I think some things are different. I think the claws just pulled in or something.” He shows Anthony his finger, and the pointed thick nail. “It looks odd, but I bet if you filed down the points no one would notice much.”

Realization hit Mark like a ton of bricks. “Dude I changed in front of the whole class!” Mark felt his heartbeat triple and a familiar pain. He watched as the claws started to slowly push out of the flesh. “Dude calm down, just chill.” Anthony shook his shoulders a bit. Mark tried to, but in his mouth he felt the fangs extending and he unbuttoned the pants trying to salvage them as his body changed once more. He stood panting, again a werewolf, pants thankfully around his ankles, and he hoped unharmed. “Wow man. That was a lot quicker.” Anthony seemed more interested in his change than the  fact that the whole school probably knew by now he was a monster. “What am I going to doooo?” Mark howled. “Well that's a good question man, since you can't really hide it. Maybe we can get you some clothes that fit like you are and you can just go to school like that?” Mark turned his yellow eyes on Anthony. “What?” Anthony grinned. “Well if you can't hide it, why not show it? You might get the adventurous girls.” Mark was stunned which apparently looked pretty silly if Anthony's laughter was any indication. Mark felt his hackle rise again but calmed himself. “I'll hafe to get usthed to talking and sthuch beforrre that. And, figure out hooow to change back and forrrth.” Mark was startled as Anthony wrapped an arm around his thick furry neck. “Dude, this is gonna be cool.” They both laughed, both knowing it'd be a pain in the rear, but in that laughter Mark was sure what a real friend was.