Have you ever heard the saying: "The road to Hell is paved with Good intentions?" My father used to say that. How about the saying: "once you get a taste of blood you crave it?" Well, I'm living proof of both. To put things bluntly, I'm a werewolf. My name is Jake; I grew up in a loving pack. My family, or pack, and mate, Jenna were everything to me.

Before I tell you my story allow me to allow me to explain a few things. Werewolves are a lot like actual wolves. The pack is the most important thing. Unlike humans were truly mate for life; if our mate dies we will spend all of eternity mourning them. When we shift (which we can do at any time), we look like real wolves; a little bigger perhaps but that's the only real difference.

I was seventeen when my world went straight to Hell. It all started innocently. Jenna and I were hunting rabbits; well, we weren't really hunting. We would chase them and let them get away. We had just had a pack hunt so we weren't really hungry. That's something else that I should let you know: normally wolves don't kill unless they're hungry. Normally.

Jenna and I were simply playing, wrestling like cubs. As always, I let her win. It was then that the shot rang out. My site blurred as I saw Jenna fall. I ran towards the sound of the gun. There I saw him, a human, a "hunter." I growled deeply and lunged. The rifle went flying. I wasn't even going to kill him at that moment. All I wanted was for him to feel the pain that I was feeling. I grabbed his arm, not meaning to draw blood, but I did. Once I tasted his blood I went crazy for a second, and my teeth found his throat. I left him bleeding to death.

I went to Jenna and nuzzled her, but she didn't move. I couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. I figured in my state of mind at that moment that she must be dead. I raised my muzzle to the sky and howled expressing my grief. As I said: wolves mate for life; my mate was dead, and so was my heart. I lay down beside her whimpering.

A realization hit me. That man had been human. The humans did this. They stole my mate, my love from me. They fear whatever's different. That fear made them weak. That weakness made them prey. They had to pay. All of them. I had to protect others of my kind.

Even at that moment I could have turned back. I could have stopped. In the beginning, I had simply wanted to avenge my mate's death. I hadn't wanted to kill anyone. But, perhaps, it was already too late. I had the taste of blood, and I wanted more.

I ran to a small town next to the forest, still in my fur. The townspeople were outside watching the fourth of July fireworks. Easy prey. I had five dead before the others could even register what was happening. Then people began running and screaming. That was the worst possible thing to do. Running made my predator's instinct kick in, and, as for screaming, well, that was just annoying. Soon I had about half of the town dead or dying, except for the few who had escaped into their houses. I began to go home, shifting back into my human skin. The taste of blood was still in my mouth.

As suddenly as the hatred had overcome me, it was gone. I sank to my knees. "What have I done?" I asked to the empty woods. "Dear God, what have I done?" My echo seemed to mock me. I collapsed onto the grass. "No," I whispered, now sobbing.

"Jake?" a female voice called. I looked up and gasped.

"J-Jenna?" I whispered.

"Why are you crying, love?" she asked.

"How?"

"The bullet hit me in the shoulder. I guess I fainted, but I'm fine."

"God, Jen-Jen, I was so afraid that I had lost you." I kissed her but she quickly pulled away.

"Jake, why do I taste blood?" I froze when she asked that. The fact that I had done this for no reason hit me hard. I fell onto my knees shaking terribly. "Jake?"

"I did it for nothing."

"Did what? Jakey, what did you do?" Jenna dropped to her knees her eyes were wide with concern and fear.

"I killed them, so many. The blood, oh God, all the blood. I'm sorry. . ."

"Killed who?"

"I just wanted to even the score."

"Stop, you're scaring me."

"The blood. . . I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I could go on from there: tell you of the trial of my king. My sentence is unimportant though. The only thing that matters are my actions, what I did to those people, those innocent people.

I didn't mean to kill anyone. I simply wanted to avenge my mate and protect my pack-mates. Instead, I disgraced them and damned myself.

.

. . . .The End. . . .