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Werewolf Halloween

By Cimmaron Spirit

Commission for Giza

WARNING: This story contains: Macro growth, werewolf, destruction, rampage, F/solo, nudity, no sex, transformation and more. If it's not in your interest, then be off, you scallywag you! Otherwise, enjoy!

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The City of Garuloup's annual Halloween Festival was well underway by the time the sun had finally set. Jack o' lanterns lined the streets, while plastic skeletons and paper bats rustled in the cool autumn breeze. The sound of children screaming and laughing as they were scared and delighted with the yearly activities, along with the ambient music of wailing organs, screeching violins, ominous chanting and demonic laughter giving the proper mood of spooky and fun for the crowds. There were costumes galore, with everyone from the youngest child to the mayor herself dressed as goblins, zombies, witches, vampires, knights, princesses, monsters and characters from TV shows, movies and books. And, of course, the candy and treats: chocolate bars and sweets that normally would have been rationed by zealous parents now gathered and consumed in copious amounts, promising sugar rushes tonight and upset stomachs tomorrow. The full moon casting bright silver light in the cloudless sky only added to the Halloween fun times.

Stormy grumbled at the whole thing. The wolfess, grey furred and thin with blue marks under each eye, shuffled in her too-large, gaudy, uncomfortable and horribly outdated magician costume that had been used for decades she had been told to wear by her boss, because apparently they didn't make anything the right size for a 5'4" wolf back in 1982, and the store she worked at was too cheap to get anything new. So as she kept adjusting the hat and trying to prevent the rob from falling off, she was handing out candy to rambunctious kids who whined and complained and screamed as they tried to grab more than they were supposed to, arguing and fighting with each other to get more.

While normally a night owl, Stormy wasn't a fan of the huge crowds, so the Halloween evening was generally not a fun time for her. The night shift usually came with the perk of being quieter and able to work by herself and usually dealing with stoned dudes looking for munchies. But not during the Halloween Festival. Nope, now she had to deal with the bouncing kids with next to no parental supervision.

"Just a couple more hours," she muttered to herself as she tried to keep the smile on her face as a six year old silver robot fox started slapping a six year old dinosaur bear cub, the seventh such fight already this evening.

Suddenly something hit Stormy in the back, with a particular sharp pain between her shoulder blades, knocking her over and making the platter of candy she had spilled onto the ground, and sending the kids that had been clamouring to get it moments before now scrambling to the ground gather their newly acquired loot.

Stormy spun around, to see a figure race through the crowd. The figure stopped for a moment and turned back to look back at Stormy. The wolf saw it was a brown furred horse with a short cropped black mane wearing a heavy, dark green trench coat, hiding a futuristic shirt with a blue and orange lines. The stallion gave a grin and a wink, before he turned and ran into the crowd.

The wolf was stunned, then confused, then angry verging on furious. "What the hell? Who was that? Why?"

Stormy stood up, grimacing as her body began to ache all over, her arms and legs twitching, her heart racing. Something felt weird, like her body was on fire, but also tightly constricted as if her fur and body was wrapped in plastic, struggling to break out and needing to be free.

A low, deep growl escaped her lips, as she reached her full height, but barely noticed as her eye line crept up higher and higher, as now not only was her body feeling contained and claustrophobic, but the ill-fighting costume she was wearing also began to be ill-fighting in the other direction, now too small on her body.

A little fox in an astronaut costume looked up, then screamed with such a high pitch that Stormy winced, looking down at the little kids, who were all staring at her, and soon most were quickly running away to find their parents, the candy forgotten.

She couldn't quite figure out what they were freaking out about, but the wolf had more important things to worry about, such as the splitting headache, the cheap polyester robes that she was wearing was starting to rip and fray, and a feral, animalistic sensation running through her mind.

And that felt good. Really good.

"Stormy! What the blazes are you doing?" a gruff voice shouted from behind her.

She spun around, looking down on her boss, a tall and fat tiger in a much fancier magician costume that had been bought within the past decade.

Wait, looking down?

"Stop that already! You're scaring the kids!"

Stormy tried to say something, but it only came out as some slobbery growls and snarls.

"I mean it! Stop it!"

But Stormy couldn't stop it. Didn't want to stop it.

She was now big, growing up to twelve feet tall, more than twice as big as her previous height and with only the tiny scraps of the old halloween costume now left ripped and torn on the ground. And strong: she felt her muscles gaining size and power with every second all over her body, though it was hard to see directly as her grey fur grew longer and wilder from their carefully cut and styled mane. There were sharp, sudden pains in her mouth that quickly subsided as her teeth grew larger, especially the front canines that seemed more like a sabertooth's fangs than a wolfs. Her claws grew longer and razor sharp, and when she opened her eyes and looked down at her now terrified boss, they gave a bright, unnatural blue glow.

Stormy looked up to the full moon, panting excitedly and showing off her tongue that glowed bright blue just like her eyes. She lifted her muzzle toward the bright white orb in the sky and let out a long, piercing howl that froze the crowds that either hadn't noticed or cared about the commotion with the kids. But now all eyes were turned, seeing the giant werewolf amongst the crowd.

At first, a number of people clapped and applauded at the sight of the giant monster, impressed by the special effects and work that had gone into the costume, the surprising highlight of Garuloup's Halloween Festival. However, another howl, followed by the werewolf turning around, then starting to smash the displays, booths, carnival games, benches, trees and lampposts all around the park that the festival had been set up, quickly turned the mood of the onlookers from excitement and praise to terror and fear. The crowds began to flee the park as Stormy began her rampage.

She really had no goal or plan... she just had an animalistic urge to strike out, to use her newly enhanced size and strength to smash and destroy, to show off, to enjoy the screams and panic of the crowd. It wasn't anything malicious: she had no desire to chase or hunt down the crowds and turn them into a feast or crushing their bodies under her massive paws. Just hearing them run and scream in terror was enough for her.

Soon she was running down the street, picking up mailboxes and benches and throwing them through windows, smashing into the many stores on the street to destroy and demolish displays. Jewelers and their stupidly expensive rings, bracelets, earrings and other knick-knacks were left shattered and pulverized; bookstores saw their copies of bestsellers and romance novels ripped to shreds by powerful claws; the computer store saw many of their personal computers and cellphones on sale reduced to scrap and rendered obsolete long before it even had a chance to get out of the store.

But at the end of the street she paused, to see the large grocery store that she had worked in when she was tiny and frail. Her anger boiled up at a dead end job she had been stuck in, and the demanding boss and demeaning customers, and without even thinking, she smashed through the automatic doors before they could fully open, and inside she ran.

The few customers and staff in the store had little warning that a twelve foot ball of fur and muscle and anger was about to disrupt their evening, but soon they were running for their lives as Stormy stormed in, knocking over displays and shelves that her un-transformed self had stacked and assembled. Glass jars and tin cans crashed to the floor, boxes of cereal and bottles of soda spilled their contents, vegetables and fruit diced and discarded, turned into a salad by her massive claws and paws.

But the meat section faced the brunt of her attack, for it was not casually thrown away, but greedily devoured and consumed, hunks of chicken and pork and beef swallowed whole, the plastic covering chewed off or ripped apart to allow Stormy to eat the contents within. Hundreds of dollars of meat was quickly packed away, the meal of a dozen men after a long working day devoured in minutes by a single creature.

Sirens began to wail outside, making Stormy's ears perk up, followed moments later with red and blue flashing lights danced through the store as four police cars came to a halt.

Stormy, still chewing the last of the steak she had just shoved into her mouth, gave a devilish grin. More toys to play with!

Before the cops could even call on the werewolf to come out and surrender to them, Stormy was racing through the store down the other aisles that she couldn't quite fit through but her strength allowed her to knock them over anyway, over the cash registers and smashing the temperamental computers she had spent many an evening struggling with and spilling hundreds of dollars in cash on the floor, before finally smashing through the plate glass window into the street below, landing on the hood of one of the cars and knocking the two policemen that had come out of it over.

Gunshots erupted from the other police officers, volleys of bullets impacting her body, but causing not even a scratch.

"Hurrr... that... tickles," Stormy said, the first words from her muzzle since the lycanthropy changed her. With a growl, she ripped the door off the police car she was on and threw it like a frisbee at the other coppers, making them run and duck as the projectile was thrown at them.

Satisfied that Garuloup's finest had been taken care of, Stormy then dashed into the street to continue her rampage, running through shop after shop, crossing the street back and forth, enjoying the freedom and fun as she demolished Main Street and withstood all that the police could throw at her. Stormy was finishing ruining an expensive clothing store and racing back across the street...

... and was immediately hit by a car coming down the street.

But the yellow vehicle was instead totalled, the entire front end smashed around Stormy's lower body, with the engine busted, windshield shattered, and the airbags deployed. The werewolf, in mid stride at the time of the crash and who only stumbled at the sudden roadblock in her way, had not a single scratch on her leg

But the shock at the interruption of her funtimes made Stormy howl again, this time turning back to the car. The driver and passenger, a couple blissfully unaware until that moment that a mythical monster was destroying the commercial heart of the city, scrambled out of their car as best as they could as Stormy grabbed the front half, and with a mighty howl, heaved the vehicle up off it's tires. Shuffling to get a better hold in the middle, Stormy now lifted the whole car over her head, and tossed it into the edifice of the city hall, plowing through the front doors and coming to rest in front of a stunned security guard.

"Yes! Yes! I'm big! I'm powerful! Nothing can stop me!" Stormy shouted, before letting out another howl, celebrating her victory over the automobile, but the howl quickly weakened to a near cough.

Stormy blinked, looking down as she felt the strength faded from her body, and the wild fur began to shrink and contract.

"Wait, what? No! What's happening?" Stormy whimpered as she shrunk down lower and lower. She looked up, to see the last glimmers of the full moon in the sky to the west, and the first rays of sunlight to the east.

It was morning, and the full moon was gone, and so was the werewolf.

Stormy collapsed in the middle of the street as police officers slowly, carefully approaching her after spending all night trying to subdue her, handcuffs at the ready.

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"So how are we today Stormy?" the jovial fox said with a smile on his face, whistling some asinine show tune as he came in

Stormy, however, was not in such a sunny, merry mood.

It was six months since her rampage, six months since she last saw the outside world. Six months she was forced to wear the orange jumpsuit of a prison inmate. The trial felt more like a formality as she was sentenced to ten years in prison for causing tens of millions in damages to Garuloup, as the defense her lawyer tried to put up that it was instinct and from the lycanthropy and not her own urges fell apart when she admitted to it. On top of that, she was also required to undergo "treatment" for her new found condition. At first, she thought it would have been just therapy stuff, like "calming inner demons" or what have you.

But nope: a team of scientists were working on getting rid or removing her ability to turn into a werewolf.

The fox, one of those scientists, hummed some sappy showtune off key, as he pulled out a syringe to withdraw more blood from her arm.

"I'd think you guys were vampires with all the blood you are taking from me," Stormy muttered as she was poked, again. Twice every week, she had to give a blood sample. Every two weeks, some DNA, and once a month a full physical was undertaken.

"Unlike your case, we still haven't determined if vampirism is real," the fox said matter of factly, as he pulled out a full vial of blood, then two more. "But if it was, I'd be sure to forward your phone number."

That was a laugh, if it was actually funny. She didn't get any visitors, except for the doctors in their white lab coats, ranging from this saccharinely cheerful fox to the boringly dull German Shepherd, and all range of personalities in between.

"There, another sample's worth of blood," the fox said as he pulled the silver needle from her arm. It turned out that she had some special abilities since her first transformation, like the fact that nothing could actually pierce her skin except silver. Unlike the myths, silver doesn't actually kill a werewolf, it's just the only thing that can pierce their hide. You'd still have to spend a lot of silver bullets to actually take a rampaging werewolf down, but it was more effective than regular bullets which might as well have been pebbles thrown at a corrugated iron shack for all the good they did: noticeable and annoying, but not actually going to do anything.

"Oh, and you know what tonight is, don't you?"

"Taco Tuesday," Stormy growled.

The fox laughed, though the wolf wasn't. "Nope! It's a full moon. So we'll be putting the protective measures in place. After all, can't have you go rampaging through the facility now, can we?"

Stormy stared daggers at the fox, who didn't notice, or care, that his patient was silently wishing he'd fall over from a heart attack from the nauseating sweetness and cheesy nature that was running through his body.

And soon after the bland and boring supper of mystery meat, soggy veggies and lumpy mashed potatoes was slid through the door to her cell, she could feel it. That feeling of power and strength and anger and rage building up in her body as the sky grew dark and the moon rose.

Which was muffled almost immediately with the screech of steel and iron as automated shutters closed over the small windows, preventing the silvery moonlight from reaching her, and triggering the transformation, leaving only the ever present, never ending fluorescent lights that shone day and night. It had taken some getting used to, and she really never felt used to the lack of darkness, but she had mostly adapted to it.

Unlike the urge for turning into a werewolf. That she couldn't get used to, couldn't shove her face under pillows to block it out. But it was near painful, almost torture, as the swelling feeling, the urge, the need to transform, to take on her werewolf form, to escape and unleash all the urges she had. Not even really destruction, unlike the first time she transformed (though, she would be more than happy to obliterate this place, with all the loneliness and agony that came with it.) No, all she wanted right now was to be free, to experience nature, to revel in her strength and power, to embrace the animalistic side, her newly discovered but rudely suppressed true side which society deemed improper and uncivilized because it was messy and disruptive.

Stormy laid on the uncomfortable cot in the corner of her cell, her body tense and on the verge of exploding, yearning and struggling. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep, unable to think as her internal struggle for release was restrained only by the simple fact that their were metal sliders over the window that prevented the moon from casting it's brilliant silver glow on her body. It was like a craving, the need for a high from a drug. But it wasn't some illegal drug her body was craving, it was the god-damned moon, the same moon that seven billion people got to experience every night. Except her.

More months passed by. More blood tests. More doctors. More evenings writhing in agony as her body cried out to be unleashed.

Then one day, Day 375, more than a full year since she had first been locked in here (but who was counting?), her door swung open, and three scientists came in, including the excitable fox, the dull G-shep, and a new figure. A horse. A horse that Stormy thought she had seen before.

"Good news! We just got a breakthrough in the quest to cure your lycanthropy!" the fox exclaimed.

Stormy's eyes went wide. "What?"

"Yep! We managed to not only isolate the virus that caused your mutation, but also to create a vaccine that can erase it from your system without injuring you. In a couple of weeks, you could totally cured!"

Stormy blinked, then slumped onto her bed, before glancing back up at the doctors again.

"I thought you'd be excited to hear the news," the fox said, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. Sure," Stormy replied, her eyes focused on the horse. He was a brown furred equine with a short cropped black mane. She swore she saw that face before...

"And just in time too! After all, tomorrow is the Super Moon, the time when the moon is the closest to the planet," the fox said. "Who knows that would do to you, eh?"

The G-shep looked at the fox and scowled. She almost never said anything, not even a "Hello," or "How are you." The horse remained completely impassive though, looking back at Stormy with unblinking eyes.

"Anyway, just thought I'd let you know," the fox said. "If it does work, then you will be transferred to a regular prison for the rest of your sentence, so enjoy our hospitality for as long as you can!"

The fox spun on his heel and walked out, whistling another song that was so off key that even the G-Shep had to wince. But the horse remained for a moment longer before glancing back at his retreating colleagues, and then looking back at Stormy. "Is there something you need, Stormy?" the horse asked. "You seem like you have something to say to me."

"I... I think I've seen you before," she said, looking over the horse.

"I do have a pretty recognizable face," the stallion admitted.

Stormy racked her mind, before her eyes widened. "Wait... I remember... you... you did this to me!"

"What? No! Well... maybe. It's complicated," the horse said. "But, well I'd stay on your toes tonight," the horse continued. "Stuff could happen that could make things... interesting."

"What? What are you talking about."

"Talk to you later Stormy," The horse said, before flashing a grin, then turning around and walking through the door.

The same grin that Stormy remembered from that Halloween night.

His words rattled through her head for the rest of the day, compounded by the fact that soon, very soon, her lycanthropy could be cured, totally removed.

Part of Stormy was glad, because, well, no more nights in pain as her body was trying to tear itself apart, to break free, to escape, to become a monster again.

But that brief, ever so brief time as that monster, strong enough to lift cars and destroy the town that had kept her so downtrodden for most of her life... She wanted that again. Even if just for a short time...

The first tingles and rumbles through her body snapped her out of her daydreams of becoming a werewolf as it now had the urge to become a werewolf. She looked up to see the black sky of night. Halloween night.

The steel shutters began to drop down, like they did every 28 or so days. But with just a tiny crack left, everything went black.

The lightbulb in her cell was off for the first time in, well, forever. And while the door to her cell was locked even during the power outage (because, honestly, who would think that locks should work only if there was power? That was stupid!), the shutters that covered the windows were only operational by the power system.

Stormy jumped out of the bed, to look out the slit in the metal. She could see some grey clouds through the hole, but they weren't very large or overcast.

She was excited, now scrambling onto the bed to get a closer look at the hole, though it was hard to reach at her diminutive 5'4" height.

"Oh, please, please, please," she prayed, before jumping back down to the floor to the far corner of the room, her mind on autopilot, seeking the best place...

And then the first, ever so tiny sliver of moonlight hit her face.

It was as if a pressure was finally lifted from her shoulders as she felt the power and strength race through her body, filling up her frame like a bottomless glass from an unceasing pitcher. The quick rips and tears as her prison jumpsuit as it was quickly rendered too small as her body surged in size.

"Yes. Yes! YES!" she bellowed, now jumping onto the bed, now tall enough to reach the window, and growing quickly, even past the twelve feet that she first hit when she turned a year before, her fur growing wild, her teeth lengthening, her eyes and tongue now glowing a fluorescent blue. "I need more. More. More! MORE!"

Her claws, newly lengthened and sharpened, went to work at the metal shutter, ripping and tearing at the thick steel, allowing more and more moonlight to reach her body, which only made her grow larger. Her head now pressed against the roof, forcing her to hunch over as she reached twenty feet tall.

Stormy's sensitive ears picked up the noise of guards and scientists scrambling and shouting, trying to get into her room.

No.

She couldn't let them stop this.

She slammed her foot, now nearly as long as she was tall before, against the door, while her claws continued to claw at the metal and the glass, making concrete crumble under the slashes and blows of her strength that was increased many times over her previous stature and power size.

The last of the shutter finally fell away, letting the full luminosity, the full power of the supermoon to reach her body.

It only made her grow even faster.

Twenty five, thirty, thirty five feet, Stormy grew. The tight feeling that constricted her body as she transformed was now paralleled with the size of her cell. But the reinforced concrete steel holding pen was no match, and soon it began to crack and break.

Stormy slammed her fists into the wall with a wild fury, her wrecking balls for hands quickly causing the wall to surrender and break, crumbling like a sandcastle to the tide.

She forced one hand through the hole she made, and with a mighty roar, ripped the building she was in to shreds, concrete and steel falling down and around, and allowing the now fifty foot tall, but still growing Stormy to break free of all restraints.

The doctors and guards had to flee before they were crushed under the falling cement. The guards tried to regroup, to get their specially designed silver bullets to bring Stormy down. But they quickly found out that their arsenal had been raided and the only weapons that could stop Stormy had vanished, perhaps by whoever had broken the power generator that was to keep the facility powered at all times, hence the black out. They tried to stop her anyway, to shoot her with their normal firearms, but their regular bullets were useless, barely registering at the growing werewolf. Even the machine guns and sniper positions set up at the edge of the clearing to serve as the outer perimeter of the makeshift prison tried to take her down, but they were just as ineffective, if louder and quicker firing.

And still Stormy grew larger. Sixty, seventy feet. And she quickly began to take revenge on the scientists that had turned her into a blood filled pin cushion, with the single goal to strip the gift of power and freedom that had been given to her.

She destroyed the rest of her prison cell, a single structure designed to house her, and then charged at the complex of buildings fifty yards away, closing the distance in seconds. The white painted building, only three stories tall, only came up to her knees as her height climbed past eighty feet. Without a care, she quickly began to kick at the building, discovering it was little more than timber and drywall. She gave a howl of delight as she bent down and began to punch more holes into the building, splintering the walls with the power of a freight train and snapping the supports like a fur clad tornado. Dormitories and kitchens were destroyed, followed by lounge areas and computer server rooms. Finally she reached the center of the building, where the laboratory that had been focused on the single goal of reversing her lycanthropy had conducted it's work. The vials of fluids and chemicals, computers and machines to measure and mix, the papers that listed successes and failures, all of it was smashed, ripped, spilled, pulverized, destroyed.

There was nothing that could stop her. A year's worth of work to take away her gift, her freedom, was gone.

And they would never get the chance to try again.

Stormy would make sure of it.

Stormy smiled with her monsterous fangs, now standing over the splintered ruins of her prison at a hundred feet tall, and tilting her head to the supermoon that gave her freedom, she let out a long howl that made the failing guards and the fleeing scientists cover their ears in pain, shattering the last glass windows.

Then with thunderous footsteps like an earthquake, Stormy ran into the tree line, the forest of tall trees masking her even as she bulldozed through the canopy, letting her escape her prison and into freedom.

Only one scientist watched, the brown horse with the short cropped mane, with a small, satisfied smile.

"So it is done?" a figure clad in a white robe with several red triangle markings along the edge, mysteriously appearing beside the horse said. The only fur that could be seen was a yellow-tan coat and some small brown spots on his paws that clutched a wooden staff, and tall under his coat that slowly swayed back and forth.

"I think you could see that for yourself," the horse replied, waving to the destruction all around.

"Well, good. And your payment, as promised Cimmaron," the mysterious figure said, reaching into his robe and producing a small artifact of gold with several emerald gems.

Cimmaron, the time traveling horse gingerly picked up the artifact, a magical creation of a civilization long forgotten, of a different multiversal timeline. "It's really not a payment if you are conducting blackmail," the horse replied.

The mage dismissively waved his hand. "I was only protecting it until you fulfill my demands. Like usual."

"And why this wolf, Stormy?" Cimmaron asked. "You've asked me to turn Stormy into a giant, or a monster, or a giant monster seven times now"

"Seven? No, I think this is only the third," the robbed feline replied.

Cimmaron blinked. "Right. Third."

"Though, I do know of another object that would be of interest to you."

The horse sighed. "What did you steal from me now?"

"Protect," The mage said, a grin only visible under his hood. "And I have an otter that could use your... special treatment..."