Russell sped into the hotel room, anxious and jittery. He bolted the door shut and frantically closed the curtains. Flinging his belongings aside he hauled ass into the bathroom. Marble furnishings, glass shelves and gold fittings made up the gigantic room. A room full of extravagance was lost on Russell as his nerves were still in tatters. It was coming, stalking him, lurking in every dark corner or crevice that could accommodate its huge, domineering shadow. It had crept from the fabric of nightmares and delved into reality. It wasn't that time of the month, but it was here, it was going to happen, unless he got a handle on himself. Being reminded of the entities existence made Russell slam the door and run a bath. The tinkling water fortunately had a soothing effect. To say this was needed would be a drastic understatement. An array of bubble baths were neatly lined on a shelf above the hot tub. Lavender, citrus, rose petal and coconut were the options, in antique glass jars. Knowing the calming properties of Lavender, he retrieved it from the counter and let it flow. Foamy bubbles formed as the stream from the container met with the steamy water. It didn't take long for steam to consume the room, fogging the mirrors. Just as it didn't take long for the tub to fill. Before he knew it, the bath was ready. Russell didn't hesitate for a second as he eased his feet into the warmth. Muscles relaxed and unclenched as he lowered limb by limb. He breathed deep as his guide had taught him. Russell closed his eyes and fought for control. On any given day meditation was easy. His ability to block out thoughts, distractions, worries and stress creators was surprisingly simple. But not tonight. Anger and humiliation at the hotel restaurant had brought back feelings he thought were long gone. How could he have been so naive? He ran fingers along his slippery flesh, smearing bubbles and splashing lavender doused water everywhere. As much as he was beginning to feel calmer it apparently hadn't helped. As he rubbed the thick foams around his body, he felt fur already sprouting from his flesh. Hundreds upon hundreds of brown hairs were mutating, covering flesh. Russell had grown accustomed to the pain of supernatural hair growth, hair follicles barging their way through layers of stubborn epidermis. It was the fangs tearing his gums apart and nails piercing his fingers and toes that was excruciating. And as soon as hair had overtaken his flesh, forcing skin to vanish, the nails came. Spiky, long and pointed. Blood oozed from his fingers as if they'd been dipped in red paint, dripping into the water, turning bubbles red. More crimson liquid expelled from his toes, mixing with the scented water, transforming the transparent liquid to a dark burgundy through expanding clouds of redness. “Please God help me!” Russell begged, weeping silently. But God wasn't listening. Fangs tore through gums as he screeched. His screams bounced off the marble, ricocheting off every surface. His mouth filled with blood, drooling from each corner, falling down his chest and matting the beastly hair. All the while he continued to shriek. The acoustics in the bathroom were comparable to that of a large theatre, carrying his voice throughout the room, and no doubt to the entire floor. Soon fangs had taken place of teeth, his nose had transformed into a moist snout, and eyes were now yellow, with black vertical slits in the center. His cries became growls as his vocal cords also took a turn for the worst. The metamorphosis was almost complete. The last part was the adaptation of his spine. Cracks, snaps and pops as his spine disassembled itself and regrew longer, and with a curl. Soon Russell was no more. And all he could think about, even in his monster state, was the incredibly rude woman downstairs that had brought on this change. It wasn't even a full moon, but she enraged him so much, she had forced a premature mutation. Time to get revenge. The werewolf whistled into the night, breaking from the hotel room and galloping down the halls, slashing and gashing anything it passed. It salivated at the sensory memory of the taste of flesh, an insatiable appetite growing, for that of the bad mannered lady. From my upcoming release, 'Nightmare Fuel', out July 31st 2015! Can't wait that long? Check out my bestselling horror collection 'What Goes Bump In The Night?' for ONLY $1! http://www.amazon.com/Night-Collection-Horror-Stories-Fiction-ebook/dp/B00P05BEC8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1414709897&sr=8-1&keywords=what+goes+bump+in+the+night%3F+wesley+thomas To keep up to date follow Wesley Thomas Website: wesleythomashorrorauthor.weebly.com Twitter: @WesJThomas Blog: http://wesleythomasshorthorrorstories.blogspot.com/ Facebook: Wesley Thomas Horror Author |