I huff, rolling my eyes at my brother, who had just finished recounting his 'brilliant' plan to trick our elder brother out of his prized dagger.

"Whatever you say, Wulfric. But don't come crying to me when Damon catches on to your little scheme," I say teasingly.

The young man huffed. "Shut up, Darra," he says with a pout.

I lean forwards in my seat. "I shan't ever," I whisper with a smug grin. I stand up from my chair and wish Wolf a good night before walking down the hall to my bedroom.

While striping down so I can put on my nightclothes, I notice a small trail of blood along my arm.

The strange thing is that I feel no particular pain from that area. I had woken up this morning suffering from a terrible full-bodied ache and a foggy head, which has carried on into the evening, but apart from that, I felt fine.

I frown, trailing up my arm with my fingers to find the source of the liquid. My fingers stumble upon a damp patch of wet fabric on my shoulder, just out of eyesight. I try pulling on it, but it's really stuck on there, and I can't get a good grip on it.

I walk over to the mirror in the corner, twisting around to see what it is.

I see a black mass of what seems to be wet fur, tinted red with blood and sparsely coated in a viscous yellow fluid. Confused, I try piling at it again, hissing as it pulls at my skin.

I pull my hand away, looking at the fur again. I feel as though I should be panicking. However, I seem to be having a delayed reaction.

I hiss as a sharp pain runs down my arm, followed by a terrible itching sensation. I look down, only to find hundreds of goosebumps, each with a dark tint at its peak. I scratch at my arm, but that only seems to irritate it more.

I clench my teeth against the shock of pain travelling across my back and down my chest. I follow the pain with my eyes, and the further it spreads, the further the goosebumps spread.

A white-hot wave of pain racks my body. I groan, falling on my ass.

Another wave of pain follows, somehow more painful than the first. Then another, and another. I can't think straight, can't see through the tears in my eyes. The pain jolts me, again and again, like electricity under my skin

I gasp and cry out, clawing at my feverish skin. I sob in pain, arching against the floorboards. A blinding pain erupts from my leg, emphasized by a sharp 'snap!'.

I scream, my throat is on fire and I taste copper on my tongue. Another 'snap!' fills the air, but I find that I can't locate where it came from.

My skin splits and stretches and grows taught all at the same time. I feel hot, thick liquid oozing down my sides as I writhe in pain. I feel it my skin split down the middle of my chest. It makes a curious 'tschh' sound, I somehow note, like the sound of wet paper being torn apart.

I choke on the blood in my mouth, my tongue cut on my teeth as I scream for mercy. I sob as my spine contorts like a whip and my ribs flare out like the wings of a raven.

Over the sound of 'snap!' and 'tschh' and agonized screaming, I hear a shout, followed by another. It was either my salvation or the unrealized sound of my suffering.

I try to shout for help, for mercy, for The Lord's salvation, but all that escapes my mouth it's a deep roaring-bark. I scream as my fingernails jump off their beds right before my very eyes. I watch in horror as the bones in my hands snap into pieces, creating a jagged edge of flesh and sinew.

I hear the frantic pounding on the door, writhing with vigour as my jaws forcefully separate. I think that I scream, but all my ears process is a blood-curdling howl.

I sob and kick and arch, as my legs twist and my shoulders snap forwards as though independent from me. I look down my nose and see dark fur. I look around wildly I writhe, and watch, horror-struck as skin peels off of my blood-darkened body like ageing wallpaper.

I try to beg for mercy once more, only for my tongue to stumble over the foreign shape of my mouth and teeth.

I scream again, but it sounds more like a shrill howl. A howl of terror.

As quickly as the pain came, it dissipates into smoke. The fog lifts and my mind clears, and all that I'm left with is a feeling of bone-deep exhaustion.

I flinch as a deafening 'bang!' echos in the room. Wood splinters fly past me and I whip my head around. I am met by the sight of my father and two of the guards, looking at me in horror.

My father's eyes flit from me to the floor beneath me, covered with skin and soaked in blood. His eyes cloud with rage.

He roars, lunging for me. I dodge out of the way, my body taking over as I dart past the guards and out of the house.

I hear angered shouts behind me, the agonized cries of a woman, the outraged villagers as they chase me down.

I choke as I tear away from the village. I seem to fly across the ground, the gravel beneath my paws dinging into my pads.