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Among those who were still pinned to the cavern walls, the atmosphere had shifted from one of mere desperation to one of pure, unadulterated horror. Of those who were currently starving, enduring severe physical pain, and trying their absolute best to suppress whatever strange, dark thoughts were clawing at their minds, a small part of their human consciousness was still present.They were trapped in their own bodies, spectators to a nightmare. A large number of them had just witnessed the unthinkable: a non-transformed pack member, driven past the point of sanity, had begun eating an injured werewolf that had landed directly in front of them.
Initially, many of the onlookers didn't understand how a fellow pack mate, an individual they had trained with and shared meals with, could commit such an act. That confusion lasted only until the temptation was placed before them. For another non-transformed wolf, fate was just as cruel. An injured ally was flung through the air, landing with a heavy thud right in front of them.
Before they even knew what they were doing, the blinding pain of hunger and the instincts they had been trying so hard to suppress took total control. Their arms moved of their own accord, reaching out and grabbing the warm flesh in front of them. Their teeth dug in, ripping through fur and muscle, and they began swallowing the meat down with a frantic, animalistic desperation. The transformation hadn't even finished, but the beast had already claimed their minds.
Gary, right in the middle of his intense fighting, had seen the first incident out of the corner of his eye. He had guessed what might have happened to the first wolf, but now, seeing it happen again in a different corner of the room, he was absolutely sure of it. The situation had spiraled into something far more grotesque than a simple breakout.
“Lupus, don’t hit the werewolves toward the ones still chained!” Gary screamed, his voice cracking with urgency over the sounds of snarling. “They’re killing their own kind! They’re eating each other out of hunger!”
Lupus heard the cry and understood immediately. He had been wondering what the specific quality of the screaming and moaning from the edges of the room was about, but now he realized it was the sound of a pack devouring itself. It was just another thing they needed to be incredibly careful about and worry about, piled on top of all the other life-threatening issues they were already facing.
What was truly strange, however, was that the situation was far worse than even Gary could have imagined. This werewolf in particular, after consuming the arm of its fellow ally, suddenly had a massive influx of energy. The raw calories and the essence of the werewolf flesh allowed it to transform instantly.
Once it had changed, it didn't just run for the door. As if it were looking to create more allies to cause as much destruction and carnage as possible, the newly transformed beast broke out of its chains and grabbed the mutilated body it had been eating. With a heave of supernatural strength, it threw the remains over to another group of those who hadn’t transformed yet. It was feeding them, forcing the change upon its brothers and sisters.
And now, a terrifying pattern and cycle was starting all around them.
It was strange and disturbing to see. It was almost as if, as soon as the beast part took over the body, the werewolves began working together to turn others onto their side. It functioned like a type of infection or a hive mind, and Gary didn't fully understand the logic behind it.
Yet, Lupus somewhat did. Having experienced the horrors of mass turnings and the shifting of packs in his life, he knew the nuances of the moon’s influence. The turning on the night of the full moon always felt like an outside influence, a foreign command echoing in the blood.
Even now, when they had enemy packs, vampires, and humans to go after, it was almost like there was a priority list that had been hard-coded into them on the night of the full moon. The curse demanded they go after humans above all else, and then work their way down that ladder of prey.
Otherwise, under normal circumstances of pure hunger, the werewolves would have started to attack each other indiscriminately despite being part of the same pack. This was the key difference between when they were transformed and when they weren’t. The state and the agonizing pain of one’s hunger was vastly stronger when not transformed compared to when the change was complete. After all, being able to transform meant that their hunger was somewhat satisfied by the shift in metabolism, and once changed, they were simply beasts driven to kill.
If the full moon curse was purely about satisfying hunger, wouldn't a sure method be for the wolves to just eat until they were full so they didn't have to go off searching for more things to kill? That paradox was why the actions happening now were a combination of separate, dark things occurring simultaneously.
The unstoppable hunger was the catalyst. In order to stop the excruciating pain of starvation, they would eat whatever, or whoever, was in front of them, their hands and minds being controlled by instinct before they even realized the crime they were committing. But the night of the full moon gave them a secondary urge: bloodlust. This was what allowed the horror to happen both before they turned and after. As their bodies were already turning, their duty shifted to the bloodlust, which meant helping those around them transform so they could join the hunt.
More and more of the werewolves were completing their transformations, which just meant more trouble for Gary and Lupus to handle. They were being crowded by a growing army of monsters that were no longer just hungry, but organized in their violence.
Beyond the frontline of the fight, Jack was watching everything unfold from his position. He was trapped against the wall, his eyes wide as he took in the carnage.
‘No… no… what is happening right in front of my eyes?’ Jack thought, his mind reeling. ‘My own pack… they’re eating each other… they’re consuming each other like animals. And here I am, tied up, not being able to do anything to stop it. I have to help. I have to help in some way!’ Jack tried to stand, tried to move from his position and break his own chains. However, Jack had been one of the few who was truly successful in his earlier act of depriving himself of food and energy to resist the change. He was truly spent, his muscles atrophied and his energy reserves at zero. Even the simple act of trying to stand up was a monumental difficulty.
But as he looked ahead and saw his own people eating their allies, saw them changing and becoming monsters while tears of shame and pain ran down their faces even as they committed the act, something shifted.
The horror of the sight acted as a spark. Something was ignited deep inside of Jack, a final reserve of will that defied his physical exhaustion.
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