Day 24. Wednesday, Waxing Gibbous

On Wednesday, Hunter trusted himself to leave his dorm room. He knew preparations had to be made, and he couldn't leave any loose ends. First, he needed an ally. Normally, his mother was his helper for binding. The week before a full moon, the non-lycan members of their pack would assemble for last minute preparations. As shifting varied, lock-ups and bindings were organized into a loose schedule. If his mother was unavailable, someone else would take her place.

He decided Malcolm was his best bet. He had hardly spoken to anyone else.

At first he was confident he could track the other boy down. They shared a dorm after all, and having met him twice, Hunter was certain he could pinpoint the other werewolf in a crowd. With no classes, he was free to roam the grounds, but could not find the boy.

He sent him messages.

At 9 a.m. he sent, 'Sorry, it's Hunter. Need help for full moon stuff. Are you free tonight or tomorrow?'

At 11 a.m. he texted. 'Sorry. Hunter again. Did you get my text?'

At 1:35 p.m. He wrote, 'Look, I know you might be busy but I really need help' before deleting it.

At 2:00 his mother called. He assured her everything was fine and took some Tylenol.

At 3:00 p.m. he took a nap in library.

At 10:00 p.m. he awoke to the librarian telling him to go to bed.

Day 25. Thursday, Full Moon

It was here. He could feel it. His hands shook as he pulled his supplies from the bag. He could do the jacket. He could handle the mittens. Ha ha. Mittens. He was laughing. It was laughing.Malcolm was laughing. He had betrayed him. He was bad. People were bad. It was coming. It was making Hunter bad.

Hunter didn't want to be bad. He wanted to go home. Everyone was home. Colton was--

"Hunter?"

Grayson was coming out of an evening class when he saw Hunter on his hands and knees in the grass outside the Howard dorm. Hunter appeared to be in his pyjamas; an old oversized t-shirt, baggy flannel pants, and socks. His signature beanie was missing, instantly causing Grayson to worry.

At the moment he wasn't sure where he stood with Hunter Reeds. Their first meeting had been odd to say the least. The last thing Grayson had expected to find in the anthropology section, was a tiny, hipsterly dressed, boy on crutches with fangs. But somehow he had hobbled his way into Grayson's life, and he had no intention of letting Hunter back out of it.

Okay, maybe things had moved way too fast. Maybe a romance wasn't best at the moment. But a friendship maybe? The occasional chat over disgusting campus coffee? He couldn't help but hope.

The distance between them was only a few yards, but Hunter hadn't spotted him yet. He was busy looking in the grass for something. Grayson rocked on his heels. Maybe it was too early for them to be talking. Maybe Hunter needed some space.

Hunter sat back in the grass, and held up something silver. He blew into it. A whistle? Then he waited. Then he did it again.

He looked around, his nose twitching. Was he sniffing the air, or sniffling from a cold?

A heavy set man with a goatee and a large art portfolio went over to him.

"Oh, yes. Thank you so much." Hunter looked up at him with joy. "Tie me up right now. I friggin' need it."

Grayson blinked twice. Maybe he heard that wrong.

"Okay. What kind of binding stuff do you got?"

"Jacket. Cuffs. Gag. The works."

No, He heard that right.

Hunter stared at the grass. "Shh-Shomeone elsh said they would help but they..." His gaze went unfocused for a moment and he shook his head.

"Moon madness, huh? That sucks." He helped Hunter to his feet. "Okay let's make this quick." He pulled Hunter along, back into the Howard.

Despite his mixed feelings, Grayson found himself heading into the Howard building. What did he just hear? How was he supposed to respond to that? What was Hunter's room number again? He had said something about a corner room on the second floor...

Hunter and Tom stood in front of the bed, staring at Hunter's restraints.

"How do you want to do this?' Tom asked. "Can you get out of the jacket alone?"

"N-N-Nah, I'm no Houdini. Anklesh and wristsh. Tie them..." Hunter sighed. "And the...muzzle. Ish... stupid looking but Garou said no howls on campus."

"Yeah..." Tom looked around. "What about rope?" When he received no response, he looked at Hunter, who was staring into space.

"Reeds!" He snapped.

Hunter gripped the side of the bed.

It was coming. It was here. He had to let it in. Let it break him.

"Snap out of it!"

Hunter blinked. Tom was shaking him, holding onto his shoulders.

He wanted to respond but his tongue felt numb. His legs wobbled, and he fell back towards the bed. He tried to speak, but only gibberish came out of his mouth.

"I'm putting on the ankle cuffs." Tom said, unbuckling them. "Nod if you understand."

Hunter nodded slowly. This was more embarrassing than he thought it would be. A sensation shot up his spine and he arched his back, screaming.

Panic was evident on Tom's face. "Whoa! Whoa! Just hang on a second!"

Hunter rolled onto his stomach. He growled instructions into the sheets and pinned his wrists behind himself, prompting Tom to slip on the foam restraints. His arms began to tingle and with his a deep breath he growled, "HURRY!" before banging his head into the mattress. His arms and legs moved against his will, making him jerk back and forth. Still, Tom was able to apply the hand mittens. He gripped Hunter's neck with sweaty hands. "Last piece."

"Puff duh key in dughharlll."

Tom wasn't sure what Hunter said, but he was sure it had something to do with his key. "That other guy isn't coming right? I'll hold on to this." He slipped on the muzzle. "I'll be back tomorrow, I promise." Watching Hunter writhe on the bed made him nervous, and he knew if he didn't leave soon, he might start feeling the urge to shift as well. "Look, I'm sorry but I gotta go. I'm just gonna check these and..."

Tom's voice was growing distant, Hunter's body was growing hot, and as he heard his bones crack he knew it was time.

Grayson paced back and forth in the hallway. Hunter's room was sandwiched in a corner, just a few steps away. He had heard some muffled shouts, the banging of something heavy against the wall, and he still couldn't figure out what he was doing there. After all, they weren't together. If Hunter was seeing some other guy, it really wasn't his business. He continued to pace. But he could still be a little mad about it right? Who even was that guy? Was that why he had been avoiding him last week?

Grayson shook his head. Just as he convinced himself to leave, he heard the door open. There was still plenty of noise coming from inside, but Tom emerged from the dark room looking nervous and carrying his portfolio. He ran into Grayson at the mouth of the tiny corridor.

Before Grayson could launch into a spontaneous jealousy fueled rant, Tom asked, "Are you the other guy?"

"Yes?" The blunt phrasing took him off guard.

"Oh, great." Tom handed Grayson the key, relieved. "He started early, but he's all bound up. No offense, but you gotta be more proactive about these things."

"Proactive?" Grayson looked at the key.

"Uh, yeah. It's not like he's the type to do it alone, you know. Well, I gotta get outta here before I start to change. Night."

"Good night...?"

Tom took off, leaving Grayson alone in the hallway to process. Hunter had started early? Started what? He looked back at the now closed door.

Hunter was still doing whatever he had started, but it didn't sound like he was enjoying it too much. Maybe the situation wasn't what he thought it was. There was a large thud. He could hear the bed frame hitting the wall.

He could be seizing, Grayson realized. What if his condition was causing him pain? What if he had other illnesses he didn't tell Grayson about? Whether or not that was true, he knew he couldn't leave Hunter alone. He took a deep breath, walked up to the door, and stuck the key into the lock. "Please be okay in there."

He opened the door.

The lights were off, but he could see Hunter was on knees on the floor. His back was arched upward, like a startled animal. Wind whistled through the tape-patched window.

Grayson felt the wall for the switch and flipped it. "Hunter?"

An angry growl caused Grayson to step back. In the light he could see Hunter's back had expanded greatly, with his spine poking outward. As he shook his head back and forth, his normally thin limbs supported him with double their regular muscle.

Hunter ceased his writhing at the sudden light, snapping his head back and barring his fangs. He glared at Grayson with wild golden eyes, and let out a long guttural snarl unlike anything the boy had heard before.

Self-preservation caused Grayson's body to move on auto pilot as he ran from the room, down the hall, jump down a flight of stairs and out into the night. He tripped running down the hill towards the campus exit, tumbling down before hitting a bush. He rolled onto his stomach and got onto his hands and knees. He watched as the clouds parted up above, and the full moon radiated its light down upon Redwood.

His panic receded as his mind put the pieces into place.

"Werewolf." Grayson mumbled, staring at the celestial body and the clouds began to conceal it again. "Werewolf."

He leaned back and sat up, cross legged. Of course, he thought, somewhere between mania and euphoria. Hunter was a werewolf.

It was so illogical that it was logical. Golden irises like in the movies, long canine teeth, light sensitivity, sudden changes in mood, bad skeletal structure, and abnormal muscle behavior once a month. These were the common symptoms and signs of Lycanthropy. He laughed at the absurdity of it all. He had a crush on a real life, honest to goodness werewolf.

"And just what are you laughing about?"

Grayson looked up. A campus security guard hovered over him, arms crossed. The individual flashed a flashlight into Grayson's eyes making him squint.

"Nothing much." Grayson rubbed his eyes. "What's the campus policy on Lycanthropes?"

"Lycan what now?" The guard raised an eyebrow.

Grayson let out another chuckle. Werewolves were a thing. Lycanthropy was a real thing. He snickered all the way to the campus security office as the guard escorted him away.

One urine sample and lecture later Grayson was escorted back the to Marconi dormitory. The night air sobered him up. As he packed a bag of care items, he compiled a list of questions. How did it work? Was it from infection or hereditary? Was the moon a requirement or was it possible without one?

He remembered the fear that had propelled him from the room. Now that reaction seemed silly. It was Hunter after all. The same Hunter that liked racing shopping carts and drinking Ghoulie juice. The same Hunter that was bound and gagged in his room.

Grayson sat on the edge of his bed. Did that really happen every month? That's how it worked in the movies--a transformation on the full moon. He stared at the key Tom had given him. Even in his mad scramble away from the dorm, he had managed to hold on to it.

He thought about the responsibility that came with it. Hunter would need him soon, but not now. He would have to wait until the night was over. Grayson willed himself to go to sleep, ignoring the compounding questions.

Lost in slumber, Grayson did not hear the howl of a wolf, nor the scream of its victim.