The Transformation

This is an excerpt from a werewolf trilogy I wrote 10 years ago. Yes, 10 years ago... This is from the first volume when the main character, Ludovico (human name) is irreversibly transformed into a werewolf by his evil alpha, Shorath. I initially wrote the story in Portuguese, my mother tongue, the below is my own translation. I am currently busy translating the whole first volume. Second volume is on hold (inspiration sometimes fails me, or maybe I fail inspiration, I never know...) and the third hasn't even been started... The action also happens in my favorite Portuguese village, Sintra, where I come from. Enjoy!

The Transformation

Confused, Ludovico got to his feet and approached Shorath to try to face him again, but a kind of spasm lashed his body like a wave lashing a rock. He felt himself growing larger and the sudden stretching of his bones and muscles caused him the most excruciating pain he had ever felt in his life. It was as if each of his limbs was being pulled in opposite directions, with the muscles growing in size under the skin. He roared in pain. His heart was beating wildly inside his chest, as if it would burst at any moment. Ludovico believed, once again, that death would take him. The body hunched forward, the clothes burst and he felt his skin harden and fill with fur, a grayish, shiny coat. The human face stretched forward as if sucked into an invisible hole and tapered into a dark snout. His mouth and the tips of his hands hurt him as his teeth grew in size and sharpened and claws sprouted from the tips of each of his fingers. He looked, terrified, at his own hands, now hairy, with sharp claws.

“Stop it, I don't want to be one of you!”, he growled in despair.

But Shorath just showed a mocking grin, a wolfish laughter, and turned his back on him to join the rest of the pack. Ludovico finally understood what was happening to him. He was turning into a horrible wolf, just like the six he saw in front of him. Little by little, the newly acquired forces left him, his thoughts stopped making sense, and he could only hear growling and howling inside his own head. At the same time he heard a voice that screamed in despair and agony, a voice that he recognized to be his own. He didn't want to be a wolf, he didn't want to leave his life to become a murderer, let alone join those six. Finally, everything stopped. His body, agitated seconds before, seemed to be finally calming down. A strange silence and a strange peace came over him. Ludovico touched himself and looked at himself, his mind still dazed. He was completely covered with fur, almost twice his human height and width. He sniffed the air. His senses had become much more refined, for he could smell the wood burning inside the fireplace he had left at home. He was at least five hundred meters from home, his human nose could never detect that odour. His pointed ears heard sounds from the village below, which was at least two kilometres away. And he saw it so well in that darkness as if his eyes suddenly had a light of their own that allowed him to distinguish each contour from his surroundings. The other wolves were staring at him. Ludovico could not understand what they could be thinking. Only Shorath displayed a look of mockery and triumph. He approached Ludovico again and held out a paw, while saying:

“Welcome, brother. From now on you will be called Luvinus.”