(Tw: Descriptions of gore + violence)
Sleeping had never been easy for Erlirria.
Even as a child, she would have trouble falling asleep.
But now it was even worse.
Her insomnia had only been enhanced by her lycanthropy.
To the point where it was nearly impossible to get any sleep.
She laid in her bed restless, tossing and turning, unable to drift off.
And even if she did manage to fall asleep, her brief rest would be poisoned with nightmares.
She rolled over, turning to who she was in bed with.
Miraak.
He used to have nightmares as well.
Right after she saved him from Apocrypha, he used to wake up in a cold sweat after having vivid and terrifying nightmares.
So the two of them used to lay beside each other and talk quietly when the rest of their friends were asleep.
But now...
Miraak was able to sleep soundly, because he knew he was safe.
And Erlirria was stuck being awake on her own.
Suddenly, she felt blood running to her head and the world started spinning.
Her vision began going fuzzed around the edges, everything started fading red.
With Miraak solidly asleep, Erlirria knew she couldn't lay there uselessly any longer.
Getting up from bed, she suddenly had to catch herself from collapsing to the floor.
Her legs had become jelly and weak, she could stagger, not walk.
Using the misshapen wooden walls as hand-holds, Erlirria skirted the bedroom until she could enter the rest of the house.
The blood in her head pounded in her ears, clutching her chest, her heart thumped aggressively.
She felt like she was having a heart attack and a migraine at the same time.
She managed to get to the alchemy station and dig around in the drawer.
Pulling out a red vial, she uncorked it and downed it immediately.
She inhaled as the pain started going away and she could breathe evenly.
But her vision didn't start clearing...
She look at the empty vial in her hand, reading the label.
"Potion Of Lycanthropy"
Erlirria's eyes widened, realising the mistake she'd just made.
"That was supposed to be for combat-" she choked as she collapsed, the weight of her armour bringing her down.
The pain returned.
Tenfold.
Gasping in short breaths, Erlirria's clawed fingers tore through the wooden floor as she tried to manage the pain.
It was like fire under her skin, her vision going even more red, and the edges of her vision blurring out.
With what strength she had left, Erlirria dragged herself up and began to stagger her way to the front door.
Managing to push the heavy wooden door open, she staggered outside, the door locking behind her.
Erlirria kneeled as the pain ran along her veins, stabbing her from the inside out.
Her heavy breaths began to turn from hisses to snarls.
With her vision blurred out and turned red, she virtually turned blind as her body was encased in darkness.
Erlirria snarled as a horrific grinding of her bones alerted her that she had begun to grow.
Her transformations had been uncomfortable before.
This time though.
It was unbearable.
When finally she was the monster she hid within, Erlirria was able to stand without being in pain.
With white eyes and blood-coloured fur, the now-werewolf Erlirria snarled through her teeth.
Heartrate through the roof, the werewolf turned her attention to the horizon.
She sniffed the air, catching wind of the scent of humans.
And with no semblance of humanity left behind her eyes, the werewolf set off on the hunt.
Charging down the side of the hill from Hendraheim, Erlirria skidded down on to the road, accelerating.
The moons hung high in the sky as the predator continued on her way, the scent of people getting stronger.
And stronger still.
When suddenly the wolf attracted the attention of a city.
Markarth.
The alarm was raised as the guards spotted the werewolf storming up the path.
But this would be all too easy for the werewolf.
"It's the Dovahkiin!" A guard shouted from his post.
"The Red-Necked Wolf is here!"
The guard who followed the first's yell was soon silenced.
Erlirria leapt upon him and tore his chainmail to ribbons, soon feasting upon his entrails.
Guards unloaded arrows into her back as she continued eating, but the more she consumed the stronger her muscles became.
Soon, the guards found their quivers empty, and the wolf looked up with a bloodied face and the mauled guard with a hole in his chest.
With a horrifying roar, the guards split between either drawing their swords or retreating inside the city walls.
Those who chose to fight were sent flying into the air by the wild swing of the wolf's claws.
She rended flesh and bone as she tore through the remainder of the guard force.
And when her feasting was over, she made her way up to the city gate.
She found it impossible to push open.
The guards had obviously barricaded it.
But the werewolf was still Dragonborn.
And even in her lycanthropic form.
She still could use her Thu'um.
Like the Tongues of old.
FUS...RO DAH!
The werewolf blasted the Markarth city gate off its hinges, sending splinters of the barricade flying down on to the guards that had amassed to try and stop her.
The Red-Necked Wolf stormed through the chaos, taking down a guard and mauling him to death.
She soon stood up, swiping at any unfortunate soul that got too close with her claws.
The citizens around her ran for the keep, hopeful it could protect them.
Such a foolish notion.
Erlirria massacred what remained of the guard force and tore through their bodies.
Flecks of blood made her fur all the more red, her teeth and jaws stained the same colour.
With her clouded white eyes, the mindless dog resumed the hunt.
Charging up the city street, she made haste for Understone Keep, watching as they hastily shut the doors.
She heard shouting and screams inside about barricading the door.
And again, the werewolf used her Dragonborn gift for the means of claiming more corpses.
FUS...RO DAH!
With a thunderous blast, the doors came off their hinges and yawned as they fell backwards.
Crushing a few people under their weight, the rest of the citizens stared in horror as the smoke gave way to the monster.
With a snarl, the wolf roared, and sent the citizens running like frightened sheep.
Erlirria charged in taking down two citizens at once and killing both of them instantly.
As she continued her slaughter, her strength only grew with the more blood and guts she devoured.
Four, five, six, the body count only grew.
Inhaling like the Big Bad Wolf she was, the Dragonborn werewolf charged a different shout.
YOL...TOOR SHUL!
Fire exploded from her throat as the keep was engulfed in orange flame.
Those who were hit fell to the floor, writhing in agonising pain as they simply burned alive.
Nothing was left of their bodies but ashes.
Only a few citizens remained, now.
Erlirria charged and laid waste to the rest of them.
And finally she stood there, victorious.
"Dragonborn?"
Well... almost victorious.
The Red-Necked Wolf turned to look at the Jarl, Igmund, with a bloodied jaw and the remains of an intestine clamped between her teeth.
Erlirria snarled, behind the white eyes, where was no mercy.
Igmund's face morphed from confusion to horror as the wolf turned around.
Igmund stepped back as the werewolf began stalking up the stairs of the keep, swallowing the entrail she had yet to finish.
Her snarl seemed to deepen upon finishing her meal, and she only seemed to grow stronger.
The shafts of broken arrows littered her back, sword marks in her legs, but she seemed unhindered.
Igmund slipped and fell on his back as the werewolf finished her ascent of the stairs.
She began to tower over the Jarl, snarling with every breath.
"P-please. I- I don't want to die." He pleaded.
The Dragonborn Werewolf was silent, with no humanity left, how could she speak back?
Instead, bearing down upon the Jarl, the wolf grabbed his foot in her jaws and bit down.
The Jarl's wail cut through the stone walls as his foot was relieved from his leg.
And so Erlirria dismembered him, and feasted in what was left of his body before finally taking solace that she was finished.
The Red-Necked Wolf turned back to the Markarth entrance, and turned her bloodied snout to the sky.
Dragon Bridge. Dragon Bridge.
The werewolf spied Dragon Bridge on the horizon, and made no further delay.
Running out of the now deserted city, the werewolf took to the road again.
Unless someone stopped her, Erlirria would lay waste to the whole of Skyrim.
But who could stop her?