All day he sat alone. Dreading the time when the clock struck twelve. Motionlessly fearing that awful moment when the transformation would begin. He looked down at his arms. They are covered with scares, and marks from bites. The marks were graphic, and the creatures that bit him clearly had fangs.
He can hear the howls now, clear as day and loud as ever. They are calling to him, beckoning him into the dark of the night. He walks out into the woods, shaking. The full moon awaits him.