Werewolves Don't Cry (BoyxBoy) [On Hold]

14| Release The Beast

A cold pale chamber made up of thick indestructible concrete. No cracks. No notable damage. Just some shallow claw marks served as a permanent reminder of the beast trapped between these four walls. The space was wide and high enough to hold three fully grown elephants, well-ventilated, yet it was suffocating—worse than a prison.

The chamber appeared like an underground shelter, hidden, protected against anyone wanting to get in, or out. A soundproof bunker with just a small opening above where the hatch was sealed lock.

A digital LED clock shone to display the time "21:39" on the ceiling. Four lights hung on each corner, giving the place a soft brightness, careful not to irritate the beast within.

The plain chamber was eerie. Quiet. Too quiet. Void of any sounds... except for Gray's troubled heavy breathing.

"Relax," Brad's voice came over the intercom. "Remember your training."

In a corner, Gray hunched down with his hands clutched to his ebony hair. His clothes were folded neatly beside him, leaving him with only his plaid boxers, multicolored like the surge of emotions he was dealing with—red as his rage, yellow as fear, green as his disgust, and blue as his despair.

"Gray, can ya hear me?"

"Aha." Gray's voice left his throat strangled, weak.

"The monitors are showing that your temperature is rising a wee bit faster than usual." A nervous chuckle escaped him. "Imma make it colder in there, but, still, you might wanna slow down."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can! We've done this a thousand times."

Cold puffs of air came in through the ventilation system, turning the place a little foggy.

"No." Gray's breathing became louder, wheezier. "I can't breathe."

Gray spread his arms toward the walls, pushing them away as if they were closing in on him. He raised his head, gasping for breath, shivering, sweating. His gray eyes darted everywhere, wild and big, the eyes of someone about to lose control.

"You can!"

Gray hugged himself, looking so small as if something had chased him and pushed him to that corner. The walls? The room? No. It was the beast inside of him, screaming for pain and drooling for bloodlust, aching to get out and destroy the world in its path.

"Listen to my voice."

Gray tried to control it, but the full moon's gravity won every time. It released the beast. Turned him into that beast. Gray cursed that moon every night. He was never the violent type. He hated how it changed him into something he wasn't. He hated it with all his heart.

"Breath in... and out... in... and out."

Brad's calm voice was surprisingly soothing. It eased the task of breathing to simple instructions that even Gray's scrambled pre-transformation brain could understand.