The Morning After

Channing woke with a start, he was shivering, naked and outside, not longer wrapped up in the bed he had crawled into the night before. He sat up, the cool dawn air dancing on his bare skin.

Where are my clothes? He asked himself.

He stands, his body is covered in blood, his mouth tastes like pennies and there is something stuck between his teeth. He pulls it out, a bloodied clump of wool.

Whats going on? His heart beat increases, the smell of the blood fills his nose, it overloads his senses. Channing hears his stomach growl, his mouth starts to water as he looks around for the source of the sickeningly tantalizing aroma.

The carcass was in the corner, the sheep ripped open savagely, its rib cage separated revealing what remained of the organs it had housed. The intestines lay on the floor beside the body nested inside a ring of blood clotted wool fleece. Flies buzzed around them in a drunken stupor with a buzzing sound that filled Channing's ears. The change was instant, the fur sprouted over his frame, nails became claws as he fell back into his four footed altered state of existence and began to feed.