Vaxing moon
Thursday 2:d of December
Remus skin felt tight. Itchy. His blood boiling. There was a ticking creaking feeling in every joint.
All day he’d felt annoyed and on edge. Like he could quite literally leap out of his own skin. His instincts roared when he had to sit in a chair all damned day. What he wanted was to pace. To pounce. Attack.
He needed to move. The- he preferred to not even think the word- thing forced itself more forcefully into his mind right before the moon.
Tired of being a lurking dark shadow of claws in the back of his mind. So it snarled and dragged itself to the centre. Pushing him away. He was competing for control of his own mind because of that greedy needy fucking- thing.
Anger and restlessness were his main emotions. But they weren’t his own. No- he was dreading this. He felt somber. He wanted to sleep in his own damned bed.
It was this dark thing that wanted this. Craved the vaxing moon. Wanted to bite and rip. Tear and claw. That had raged all day, even worse than the days prior.
Wanted for him to snap at everything and everyone. He’d nearly punched someone for bumping into him. He had fought hard, very hard, against the desire to beat the kid to bloody ribbons.
For bumping into him. It took every single bit of restraint not to full out attack his dorm mates.
They did not know and he dreaded them ever finding out. Finding this dark dirty piece of him. For them to know how horrid he really was. The monster prowling beneath his scarred skin.
They were his first friends and he really didn’t want to lose them. He didn’t trust them, no. Trust didn’t end well. It always ended in disaster. But he did like them.
James, arrogant yet kind. Sirius, a prick but also funny. Peter, so gentle yet always forgotten.
If this got out they’d desert him. He’d have to leave Hogwarts and go back. And he couldn’t do that.
He’d said he felt ill before going to the hospital wing. Peter had chewed his cheek and peered at his face, looking concerned. “Do you want me to come with you?” He’d asked. Sirius had peeked from around the bed where he and James had been chatting about their following prank (he’d come up with the plan, of course). “When you coming back? We’ve got planning to do” he’d wondered. “Yeah you alright mate?” James had looked concerned. “Yeah just nauseas” he’d lied and swiftly left.
His hand clutched the dirty bloodstained beige sheets of the wooden broken cot. The room had an odour of decay. Of rotten wood and dust. The iron metallic stench of his own blood that had seeped and dried into the wooden floor.
He’d only had three moons here yet there was still a lot of damage in the shack. It had been dusty and moldy. Then it had become in complete disarray. Deep scratch-marks in the walls and in the floor. The two chairs broken to bits and splinters. Floor boards ripped completely off. Shards of glass from mirror on the wall.
He could feel the bones in his hands start to creek and shift. The first breaking made him grind his teeth against the hot flashing agony. It was only on sheer will he didn’t shriek in pain.
After years and years of it he’d learned to quiet down his sounds. Knew that the boys in the children’s home would have questions. That he had to be as silent as possible.
It was impossible to remain entirely silent though. Every bone in his hands broke and reattached themselves as wholly different. It broke his skin. Hot boiling blood leaking from him. The breaking moved. To his arms, his legs.
He shattered. Into a million bloody shards. Those claws ripping him apart from the inside out. Desperate to get out. It didn’t care if it destroyed Remus in the process.
His blood had been at boiling point all day but now i burned like molten lava. Agony was all he was. Agony and fear.
The primal want for it to end. To rather die. As those claws ripped and reordered his intestines. Sharp teeth cutting every bone in half before snapping them back together. The fur coming from him like a thousand needles pressing through skin.
He couldn’t see. Could only vaguely note the screaming. Endless screaming. The burn in his chest, the lump of blood in his throat.
Mid-scream his jaw broke and extended. Sharp canines pressing from bleeding gums. He felt his skull crack open. His eyes rolling and rolling in his skull.
The claws were in his mind. Ripping his soul to pieces. Trying to force him away.
He arched off the bed as his spine split in two. Agony. Utter mind crushing agony. Like burning flames soaring through his arteries. Splinters of bone piercing his organs.
The wolf took charge as his spine reformed.
Hunt. Hunt. Leave. Leave. Lonely. Lonely. Hungry. Hungry. Rage. Rage. Flee. Flee. Destroy. Destroy. Blood. Blood. Bite. Bite. Escape. Escape. Kill. Kill. Red. Red. Broken. Broken. Hurt. Hurt.