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It seems to me that I haven't always been like this, gloomy. I became so through failures, pains, mistakes, sobbing. Blood has flowed and now it's my turn to dye the land red. I cry out for blood and I have an insatiable thirst. I like its texture, its color, its smell. Everything about this liquid attracts me.

Speaking of which, it's time for me to accomplish what I was created to do. I must pursue my prey to kill it in a long and painful torture.

I head to my closet where binders containing all the information on my targets are stored. I pull out the big document on my next victim. I've been tracking him for a long time. But his important position gives him protection, however, tonight is the moment when I can finally kill him. This lycanthrope has been conspiring against the supreme pack for too long. And I took it upon myself to stop him before it was too late.

I look once again at the plans of his house and the photos I took for location scouting, then I finally put away the filing cabinet, ready.

I then take out my little black notebook in front of my large mirror. Then I read aloud the name of the one I have to kill: Klynn Vaman.

I take my eyes off my deadly notebook to stare straight ahead at the reflection facing me. As soon as I look at this foreign woman, I feel nothing. I don't feel his pain or his anger. I only see his expressionless face, half-hidden by a black mask that only shows his eyes. Her eyeballs are surrounded by long black hair that draws in the light of the moon, towards midnight blue. Its forms are covered with a tight black jumpsuit adorned with cases hiding several weapons and poisons of all kinds.

I then immerse myself in my dark gaze. My look disgusts me. It does not reflect any color, any feeling. Just emptiness, an endless pit of darkness. Lifeless eyes. The woman in front of me is dead. Dead forever, too long.

I'm just an empty bloodthirsty werewolf. And the worst thing is that this reality is really indifferent to me.

When I have to kill someone, it's my human part that does it and not my wolf. She's worse than me if I let her get away at a time like this the consequences won't be the nicest. I think the next day everyone will be able to see the news:

“A wolf killed the entire population of the town of Frélême. We questioned its human part and the latter had the only answer: "My wolf had the slab." »

She's always been like that, she wants blood and revenge and until the latter is done she will remain bloodthirsty, like me.