Animal Unchained

       The man lay in his bed, dreaming peacefully. The moon’s rays slanted in through the window. The man awoke, looking upon the silvery light in the room with a contented smile on his face. Then, the thought struck him, and the smile vanished instantly. Sweat began to trickle down the man’s body, and his breathing grew quicker and shallower. The time had come.

     He could hear his heart hammering in his ears as his body began to convulse.

  “Not this time!” the man begged “Please, not this time!”

        He felt himself warping, his limbs stretching and contorting, his fingernails growing, and his skin beginning to chill and burn at once. His mind began to alter, filling with primal thoughts and debauched images that the man could not dispel. The transformation began to grow more pleasurable. His limbs, which felt as if it bones were breaking and reforming, began to feel a sweet relief. His skin began to feel warm and pleasant, and thoughts in his head became more and more appealing. It became too much for the man to bear, he could only submit to the pleasurable twisting of his being.

         The waves of the pleasure spread, growing stronger and stronger with each succession. Soon, there was an explosion of the sensation all throughout. A powerful surge of primal electricity coursed through the man’s being. The wild joy consumed him. In his memory of that night, he could not recall the atrocities he committed, the places he’d gone, nor the things that he had thought. All he remembered was that powerful, all-consuming ecstasy that surged throughout his mind and body. When that joy subsided, the man saw where he was.

    He sat there in a field, under the first light of dawn, wet with dew, filthy with soil, and surrounded by grass. Beneath the man’s body, the mangled corpse that was once a woman lay. The man saw the ribbons of flesh that used to cling to her bones, and the mess of the woman’s blood that covered him. In the deep recesses of his mind, the man knew that what he’d done was wrong, but the bliss lingered still. It numbed his guilt as he sat upon the corpse, captivated by the last, lingering pleasures of the rampage.

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