Lamp post lights flickered in the summer evening rain. The light pit-pats on the hood of his car was calming. The headlights blinked on and off as the struggle in the car continued. I watched from my small den in the alleyway, wondering if there was a reason to intervene. Wondering if I should allow myself a spell into the warm flow of red that was sure to come from interfering.

            It had been ages since I shed myself of the fragile and dirty façade that I had been wearing for the past thirty years. Every so often I would shed this skin, grow my fangs and claws. Newspapers praising prowling dogs. None the wiser.

            A scream evoked my conce...

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