fear of the werewolf

By day Wolf became Man. He would only recall this other life like one remembers nightmares. Flashes of strange and great things, of electric lights and cars and office buildings that rose so high they pierced the sky. But the traffic and noise, the flickering of his computer screen was unbearable and encroaching on his waking life. It was like the beating wings of an enourmous hornet, buzzing buzzing so loud that it became deafening. Wolf felt something dying inside of him. His senses dulled and he lost his joy in the hunt. Wolf could no longer smell their fear, hear their desperate footfalls or taste the blood, sinews of the flesh, feel the texture of broken bone. Not like he could before. It had all become bland and colourless.

Wolf feared he was becoming Man.