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Warning. This story contains strong language, slight sexual themes, and small instances of partial nudity. Reader discretion is advised. Comment please!

This is a reupload from an old profile.

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I froze for only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like an eternity. The scene in front of me was, in every meaning of the word, unbelievable. My lover, before my very eyes, was turning into a werewolf; a monster that for all intentsive purposes, shouldn't exist! But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was that I... knew_what she was becoming. I, like the rest of modern pop-culture, had read the stories, watched the movie, etc. Innocent every day people would become violent, snarling, blood thirsty _monsters! The beast would its selected prey limb from limb, basking in the carnage and bloodshed, and feast on what remained. But all the while, the person it used to be would watch the horrible scene unfold through its eyes... praying for the daylight to change them back.

But what I realized, above everything else, is that I was locked in a room with her... soon to be it.

That single thought had me gripping at the door knob, trying to turn for dear life, hearing the growls and screams behind become progressively less human each second. After about five twist of the knob, I began bashing myself against the door, hoping that my body would weigh enough to break it down; but alas, I was met with resistance equal to that of a brick wall.

Then it came back to me, three words that made my heart stop, and my eyes widen with absolute fear.

Lock. And. Key.

The spell that she mentioned earlier, the one I had discarded as a drug induced fantasy; I knew know that it had to be true. I mean, if my girlfriend was a Lycan, anything is possible right? I looked around the room, trying to find some way out.

'The wall!' I thought. 'She damaged the wall!'

I picked up a nearby organizer, the items on it falling to the carpet, and turned it into a makeshift battering ram. I bashed it against the wall over and over, watching the plaster and drywall fall away. But, after awhile, I noticed that there was a point in the wall... where it seemed I could go no further. I stop for only a moment and then hit the wall twice more, discovering why I couldn't break through. The wall was regenerating.

Every time I would get a certain length through the wall, the damage done at that point would seemingly disappear. It was like in a video game where if you shoot a surface, your shots mark would eventually fade away. I began to cry, dropping the organizer/ram and looking up at the ceiling, as if asking God why this was happening. A loud roar brought my attention back to Diana, making me see what had become of her in such short time, only some of her body illuminated by the moon.

Her feet had become paws, her legs now having three sections instead of two. The hair on her body was no longer hair, but a thick coat of silver-grey fur, its gleam in the moonlight a constant reminder of who I was looking at. And lastly, when I looked up her body, I saw her snout in the light, her fangs illuminated and gleaming. I fell back against the door and sobbed into my hands, knowing full well I was to die here.

But... somewhere in me... there was a voice. It was the same voice that brought me here to confront Diana, and it was saying something. As what it was saying became clearer, I found myself standing up, my sobbing decreased and my hands falling away from my face, balling into fists at my sides. By the time I was fully on my feet, confidence coursing through my veins, I was chanting the words in my head.She's still Diana....

"Diana... "I started. "If you can hear me, then I want you to know that this isn't your fault... none of it is." A roar cuts me off, causing me to choke on my next few words for a moment.

"I-I'm so sorry this had to happen to you. If you had just told me about this sooner... maybe I could've tried to help. But I understand." I continued, stopping to choke out a few sobs. "I just want you to know that, I love you, so very much, and nothing will ever change that... not even death." I felt my heart ache, and my body go numb. No part of myself wanted to fight anymore, thus I accepted death with open arms, preparing for its cold embrace.

"As for this... monster!" I spoke, my voice carrying a defiant tone. "I hope you choke on me you son of a bitch!"

If my lover was to see me die, then I would die as a man, not a frightened wimp.

I closed my eyes and held my head high, ready for it, hearing the screams become roars as the final bit of humanity left her. She ended it with a howl; not just a howl mind you, but one that seemed to proclaim her very existence to the world, as if telling everything around her that she was dominant. After the howl was finished, I heard her let out soft yet ragged grunts, taking time to calm down after her transformation. I opened my arms, ready for claws or teeth, hoping she would find someone new to make her happy. The blessed contact, the end to this nightmare; it... never came.

I raised my eyebrow in confusion, wondering why I was still living, keeping my eyes closed as to not give the beast the pleasure of looking into them as it ravaged me. I shrugged a bit gesturing that I was ready, but still, nothing happened. I began to think it had taken an ambush position and was waiti8ng for me to make the first move, so I let out an aggravated grunt, and ran forward to embrace the creature.

But yet again... nothing happened.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes to see if it was in front of me, but saw nothing but an empty bed; but what did startle me though was the fact that her sheets had seemed to repair themselves, not having a single scratch or tear on them. This surprised me yes, but also made me think; did the rest_of the room repair itself? I looked around slowly, still aware that the lycan may be in the room, and saw that the organizer I had used was standing upright exactly where I had taken it from with everything back on it, and the chair I broke was good as new and back where it originally was. While this astounded for a moment, I shook my head and set my mind back on the very prominent threat that was still in the room somewhere. But, as I think, a chill runs up my spine, but not from a sensation, but from a sudden thought; she's behind me. Now, if you've played horror games like me, then you know one of the basic rules; whatever is trying to kill you is scarier when it's _behind_you. Those feelings of not knowing what it looks or what it's doing, and not knowing how far behind you it is, are absolutely terrifying. So you could probably imagine how brick-shittingly scared I was when this thought popped into my head. I knew it had to be toying with me, getting enjoyment from watching its meal squirm, and it enraged to the point I could here my teeth grinding and my fist were clenching. So, using all that anger, I turned around and swung my fist like mad screaming "Come at me you son of a _bitch!"

... And I hit air.

I swung around too hard, tripping over myself. My eyes flew open in terror as I thought in that instant what wolves do to fallen prey and flipped onto my back, crab walking to a nearby corner. Once the fear went away, frustration set in, a flurry of questions flooding my mind. Where could she be? How could I not see her? And when the hell did she become a werewolf!? But in the middle of my thought process, I hear a noise. It sounded like small short breaths in rapid succession punctuated by large inhales; like silent sobbing. I was no longer scared or frustrated, but confused, wondering where the sobbing could be coming from. I looked the room for the source of the noise, scanning slowly across and listen intently until... I found it.

In the corner of the room across from the one I was sitting in was a large, crouched down shadow, the terror that had briefly left me returning at the site of it. I get up quietly, my eyes never leaving it once, and walk over to a nearby window to open the blinds. I twist the stick, pointing the blinds upward instead of down to let more light in, and what it reveals to me is... breathtaking.

In the corner, now illuminated, is a giant mass of silvery-grey fur, seeming to flex and jump in rhythm with the sobbing, but that's when I realized; it was the source of the sobbing. This made me, rethink things a bit. Was this a savage beast whose only emotions were rage and bloodlust? Or was it, she, still my Diana? There were so many questions but so little answers and the fear of not knowing what Diana's wolf form would do, or when it would do it, made trying to focus on one thought at a time even more difficult! But suddenly, as if on cue, I heard a new noise; a whisper in the sobs.

... A voice.

"

Don't... don't look at me.

"

My head snapped to the direction of the whimpering shadow, wondering if I had heard what I thought I did. All my thoughts centered around different possibilities now. Could she still be Diana? Could the newer mythos about werewolves maintaining their sentience be true? 'Only one way to find out.' I thought. I began to step towards the crying furry mass, making my approach slowly as to not startle i- her. I was almost right next to her when I stopped, whispering in the darkness "D-Diana?"

"GO AWAY!" she screamed, making me nearly jump out of my skin; but not at her sudden, loud reaction. Her voice, while still slightly gravely, was indeed still Diana's, and her voice sounded frightened... as if scared to let me see her.

"Diana, please, let me... "

"NO!" she screams again. "You broke into my house, invaded my privacy, accused me of being a junkie, and then saw the one thing I never wanted you to see!" she snarls, looking up at me with bared teeth. "Just do me a favor and get out of my FUCKING HOUSE!"

I gasp when I see her face, my eyes darting all over her face in an attempt to quickly process what there viewing. I take in all the changes and can only come up with one word to describe them; amazing!

Her face, while now definitely more wolf than human, did bare human characteristics. Her cheeks were more pronounced than that of wolf, widening her face and shortening her snout, and the top of her head seemed to be slightly flattened like a dogs. Her ears were still where they normally would be but had expanded and morphed into dog ears, protruding upwards out of her hair. Her hair, as a matter of fact, was still there, but there was slightly more of it, turning it into a mane rather than hair, complemented by the wolven scruff that now lined the bottom of her neck. Her teeth were completely wolven, now gleaming fangs and somewhat sharp back teeth, but her mouth as a whole was a different story, her lips and jaws seeming to have the same flexibility as a human mouth. And last but not least were her eyes that while still bearing a look of humanoid sentience, and anger at the time, were a perfect hybrid of human and wolf eyes, having the socket structure and eyeball of a human, but the iris and pupil of a wolf and still a beautiful shade of sky blue. She stood up, revealing the rest of herself to me and surprisingly, even thought she had physically grown in size, she had maintained her hourglass figure. Her muscles, once growing out of control, seemed to calm and set, recovering their normal shape, making her body toned and strong yet curvy and feminine. The first two parts of her leg maintained their 'thinning hourglass' shape while the third part, formerly her foot, was an even width from what was her ankle to her new and very large paws. Her hands, also calmed and set, were mostly normal except for the size increase and claw-like nails. But the most impressive changes took place on her chest and lower back; her breast, already having been large, had grown in size. They weren't freakishly large mind you, but they were large enough to leave me seemingly hypnotized. They looked so smooth and malleable, as if my fingers would disappear into the flesh of soft mounds if I dare try to touch them. Her ass and hips had done the same, thickening and toning slightly as to not look freakishly large and make her body look strange... or strang_er_I should say. But her tailbone, however, had extended into a long, beautiful, bushy tail, now complementing her already squeezable cheeks. "What're you, deaf!? I said GET OUT!" she screamed, breaking me out of the bewildered trance her new form had me in. I looked up just long enough to see her swing a claw at me, ducking down to avoid possible decapitation and looking up to see an enraged werewolf getting ready to strike again.

"Wait, Diana! It's me, John! JOHN!"

Then she stopped dead in her tracks, her look of rage changing to one of shock. She backs away from me, staring at me as she does so, and begins to cry.

"John, I... I'm sorry." she chocked. "I... I was just so mad and... and...."

She plops back down on her bead, openly sobbing in regret. I gently walked to her side and sat down beside her, watching her as she cried in complete awe.

"I... I understand that y-you probably don't want to be... together now," she sobbed "but all I ask is that you tell no one of this. If you... if you d-do that then I'll leave you and... and never contact you again, Alright?"

I was taken aback a bit, wondering why she believed that I no longer loved her. I mean yes, her... condition did frighten me a bit, but that didn't mean I hated her. I moved closer and wrapped my arms around her impressive frame, making her gasp at my touch as I began to move my hand through her hair. "Diana," I say "while this form of yours is a little bit... intimidating, that doesn't mean I hate you." She turns to me, surprised.

"But I... I'm a...."

"Yes."

"S-so, you don't-?"

"No."

"But why did you-?"

"Because I... I thought you were like the 'classic' werewolves. You know... a metaphor for violence."

"Ah."

"Yeah...."

There was silence for a few minutes, allow us to let go of one another in that short time, broken by a question from me; "So, werewolf heh?"

"Yeah."

"Huh... how long?"

"All my life." she replies.

I look over at her with a puzzled expression and ask "Then how is this just recently becoming a problem?"

"Because I didn't know until two years before I met you."

"What!?" I ask again, going into an even deeper state of confusion. She lets out a deep, slightly frustrated sigh and begins to explain.

"Lycan's aren't born knowing what they are, they have to learn it at a later time; usually when the parents decide."

"But weren't you... "

"Adopted? Yeah." she finishes. "Only problem is they didn't know until my domesticated stage." "Domesticated?" I ask. She lets out another sigh.

"Werewolves have three stages of development; the first being the 'savage' stage. In that stage, our minds conflict with the instincts and mind of our wolf side, thus creating a confused, angry and very violent creature that kills anything that gets too close... or looks tasty."

"Jesus...."

"The next is the 'domesticated' stage. The two warring minds of human and wolf come to terms with each other's existence and begin to meld, but the process is slow, thus we gain the intelligence of a domesticated animal, hence the name. We become smarter as time goes on, our wolf forms learning to speak in the process, and eventually reach the last stage."

"The one you're in now?" I asked.

"Yes, it's called 'sentience'. It is, as its name states, the achievement of full sentience caused by the wolf and human halves finally merging into one being. When this is reached however, depending on how much time and effort it took for the person to reach this stage, there will be a certain number of full moon turnings that you'll have to endure. I'm currently on my fifteenth, and I have five remaining." I... couldn't reply. I could only sit there and stare; shocked and intrigued by everything I had learned. I started lining up the questions I had in my mind from most important to least.

"How did your folks take it?" I asked, seeing that it was the most appropriate question at the time.

"Well... when your parents see you with the intelligence of a well trained circus orangutan; they're gonna be a little pissed." she answered, making us both chuckle for a moment.

"In all seriousness though," she continues "they were shocked at first and kind of... no... _really_mad, but when I changed back to my human form, I told them about the world of Mythics and humans who 'know' and it seemed to calm them down. When I finally reached sentience, my father was so proud of me; he hugged me in my wolf form for hours, always commenting on how much taller I was now, telling me how he had someone to call for free house work now." She said. We both shared another short for a moment, until slowly her smile seemed to shift into an uneasy frown. I scoot closer to her, making her look at me and tell me what's wrong. "My mother... didn't take the news so well." she said.

"How bad?" I asked.

"She tried to kill the pack leader with a silver loaded forty-five."

"Oh... wow."

"Yeah, she still believes that I was turned forcibly... or I was brainwashed into turning willingly."

"Why the hell would she believe that!?" I ask frantically.

"Because," she says, looking away as if downtrodden "she suffers from what we Mythics call 'the fear', an exaggerated form of racism caused by xenophobia, a fear of aliens." she explains.

"And your mom has this fear because...?"

"Well, she's not ultra religious or anything, she's just... it's just...." she explains.

"Human nature?" I finish.

"Yeah... I guess so. She's under constant surveillance from Mythic officials now, and she'll probably stay that way for the next few years."

We let silence take us again, seeing it necessary to allow me to take all of this in, and another question came to mind.

"How'd you find out?" I ask.

"When I reached the age of nineteen, I started to notice some odd_changes. I got stronger, faster, just all around more athletic. Hell, I even started hitting the gym at least three times a week! Then I, for some reason, just seemed to get... _sexier; I mean I don't mean to brag, but I went from a six to a solid ten! I even started getting looks from women... but that's not all. As I aged the changes started to get more severe; hitting the gym became taking a sprint through the woods, my emotions became exaggerated to the point of extreme anger, sorrow or joy, and my sexual attractiveness became so much that most of my dates had to go to the bathroom to... relieve themselves." she finished. "Wow... did anybody say anything?"

"Yeah, mostly friends and family, but I just brushed it off as late stages of maturity."

"Late stages of maturity?" I scolded.

"Oh shut up! All I knew is that I liked these 'changes' so I didn't really care where they came from! That is, until.... "

"Until...?" I asked mockingly.

"Until some guy tried to force himself on me in a bar bathroom and I sent him to the emergency room."

"WHAT!"

"Yeah, he thought that a few drinks and some chatting meant I was asking for 'the D' and I had to straighten his ass out...unfortunately, when I was done kicking his ass, he needed work done on his spine."

"Wow... damn."

"After I re-arranged this guy's face, my mother and father pretty much begged that I go see a doctor, so I gave in and got what amounted to an expensive checkup."

"What did the doctor say?"

"He had no fucking idea!" she said, laughing as she did.

"Well... sounds like he was a huge help." I said.

"Yeah, pretty much! But anyway, once he openly admitted to not knowing, he asked us to wait while he called up other doctors to see if they could figure it out. So we waited, and eventually, he found a doctor... a man by the name of Andrew Heinrick." She paused for a moment as if to remember the incident in detail. I shook her lightly to bring her focus back to the conversation at hand.

"I'm sorry." she said. "It's just... when he told me what I was-."

"Now wait a minute!" I interrupted. "How did he Know?"

"Because; we're the same." she said coldly.

It took me a moment to figure out what she meant but when I did... "Oh." I said, my eyes widening slightly.

"He told me that he needed to see me in three days, alone, and at exactly eight PM. My parents objected or course, suspecting he was just some freak who wanted a piece of ass." she said.

"So I eventually convinced my parents to let me go as long as I took protection, my dad's combat knife, and was careful, and with that out of the way I looked up his name. Turned out the guy was a legitimate doctor living out in Iowa, alone. My parents paid for the plane ticket and sent me off."

"You went all the way to Iowa for a checkup?"

"After beating up a guy so bad that the police checked my blood for steroids, yeah, I did." She says, nonchalantly. "He invited me in and offered me a drink, which I accepted happily, but when I drank, I noticed that he seemed to... study me. It wasn't like he was waiting for me to get drunk, but like he was trying to see if I would get drunk; like a test."

"A test for what?" I ask.

"I'm getting to that, be patient." she said, smiling and ruffling my hair playfully.

"Anyway, when the sun had finally gone down, I broke my silence and finally asked him what was going on, why he was examining me like some lab rat, and he huffed, telling me high alcohol resistance was a common sign. I ask him 'A sign of what?'"

"What did he say?" I asked, intrigued.

"He didn't say a damn thing." she said, chuckling slightly. "He just got up and... turned."

She described to me, in detail, how terrifying it was to see him turn, how when she looked into his wolven eyes and saw his fangs, she bolted to the door, screaming like a banshee.

"I got out the knife when I felt his hand on my shoulder," she continues "but when he turns me around, I see furry bastard laughing; the next thing out of his mouth being how he hadn't seen a reaction that funny in years. He noticed my look of confusion and fear after awhile and sat me down, telling me all about the Mythic world... until he mentioned that I was probably one." "I'm guessing that's when you flipped your shit." I said.

"EyyyUUUUUp!" she says, smiling. "Took him ten minutes to stop rant about how I couldn't be one, just so he could sit down and tell why I absolutely _was_one. Told him that I needed a minute, but he said that there was no time and pushed me into a room with a sick looking deer, locking the door behind me. Before I could question anything that was happening, everything on my body just started burning, and eventually I started to turn."

"What happened to the deer?" I asked.

"Well... I woke up lying in its spread rib cage, covered in its blood, and clutching part of its large intestines like a teddy bear. So I'm guessing it died."

We each chuckled for a moment before she continued, saying "He opened the door and i rushed over to him and started to hit his chest over and over, telling him to take it back, that it wasn't fair. He eventually calmed me down and told me how it all works, stages of turning and whatnot, and the rest is a story all it's own."

I scratched my chin for a moment, wondering what next question would be, until a fairly obvious one came to mind. "Why do you call yourself Mythics?" I asked.

"Come again?" she replied.

"I mean, Lycan and Werewolf are good names but Mythic... really? Are all Lycans really just that arrogant?"

She looks at me for a moment before putting her face into her hands, chuckling slightly. She looks up at me and says "Lycans aren't the only ones you know."

I visibly freeze, the full meaning of what she had just said hitting me like a bullet to the brain. "W-What do you mean 'not the only ones'?" I ask, shakily.

She clears her throat, and begins to list off names as if reading them out of a book.

"Let's see there's Lycans, Sphinxes, Dragons, or Draconians, either name works. There's also Mermalos, Cephlos, Faerios, Reptilians; the list goes on." she finishes smiling.

I felt my heartbeat race as I acknowledge what she is saying, attempting, and in a sense failing, to wrap my head around it all. I nearly fall off the bed; her clawed had grabbing my arm at the last second.

"So... all the old fairy tales, all the stories; there all true?" I ask, my voice trembling. "Yup!" she responds cheerfully.

As my shock and disbelief fade, other questions come to mind, me asking and her answering. This goes on for a few minutes more, until I notice the look of worry in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I ask her. She tries to convince me that everything is alright, but as soon as I cock my eyebrow and fold my arms, she gives up with a sigh.

"I understand if you're not that attracted to me anymore." she says, her head hung low. I sputter in disbelief, demanding to know why she would think such a thing. "Because I turn into a six foot five hummanoid wolf creature!" she replies.

I try to respond, but she interups me, saying "I know that this will effect our relationship, but I'm not always like this. When I gain full control you wont ever have to see this side of me again, okay?"

I can hear her voice cracking under the emotions, and I embrace her in a hug, which she returns after a few moments. I had something I wanted to tell her that night as well, as a matter of fact.

And there was literaly no better time to tell her than now.