Echoes Of The Beast

The weeks since the dungeon incident had settled into a tense routine. Two months had passed, and though the wolf within me had remained silent, it was like a predator lurking in the shadows, waiting. Blackthorn’s words still echoed in my mind—You’re on probation.

Every step I took felt like it was under a microscope. The Headmistress, Katherine Vincent, and Blackthorn made it clear I wasn’t trusted yet. I’d catch their subtle glances during meals or in the corridors, like they were waiting for the wolf to break free again.

The Lesson

The morning bell chimed, and I headed to Advanced Supernatural Biology, sliding into my usual seat. The room buzzed with quiet conversation as Professor Elliot—a werewolf himself—prepared the day’s lesson.

"Settle down," he said, his voice calm but firm. “Today, we’re discussing one of the most complex and misunderstood aspects of our kind—the split personality of the feral manifestation.”

The chatter died instantly. This was one of the topics everyone found fascinating and unnerving in equal measure.

Professor Elliot tapped a diagram on the board, which displayed two overlapping silhouettes: one human, one wolf. “For werewolves, vampires, and werecats, the ‘other self’ is not merely a metaphor. It’s a living, breathing part of who we are. A fragment of our instincts, emotions, and subconscious.”

He paced slowly across the front of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “Let’s start with werewolves. For us, the wolf manifests fully after the first shift—usually around age thirteen. This isn’t just a physical transformation. It’s the birth of a new aspect of yourself: the wolf. A creature of pure instinct and feral behavior.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as he continued.

“For those under the age of twenty-one, the full moon triggers an uncontrollable shift. You must change, and during this time, the wolf takes over entirely. It’s why younger wolves are kept close to their packs on full moons—to prevent harm to themselves or others. However, outside the full moon, you have the option to shift voluntarily, though control over the wolf varies by individual maturity.”

Elliot’s gaze swept across the room, pausing briefly on me.

“For those over twenty-one, the full moon no longer compels a shift. By that age, the human and wolf have usually reached a balance—a partnership of sorts. But until then…” He turned back to the board, tapping it with a piece of chalk. “The wolf remains dominant during those nights. Any questions?”

William raised his hand. “What about werecats?”

“Good question,” Elliot said, nodding. “Werecats also manifest their other self around the same age—thirteen. However, their shifts are not tied to the lunar cycle. They shift when they choose, though the feral side can surface in moments of extreme stress or anger. It’s a similar dynamic, but less predictable.”

I listened carefully, trying to absorb the information while simultaneously tuning out the whispers around me. The word anomaly lingered in the back of my mind from the History of Supernaturals class.

“What about vampires?” Sara asked from the other side of the room.

Elliot’s expression turned thoughtful. “Vampires are a bit different. They don’t physically transform, but they do have a feral state—a darker side, so to speak. It’s triggered by bloodlust or emotional extremes, and it’s just as dangerous as a werewolf or werecat’s transformation.”

The lesson continued, diving deeper into the psychology of the split personality. Elliot explained how these manifestations weren’t separate entities—they were us. A raw, primal version of ourselves. That hit too close to home for my comfort.

When the bell finally rang, I gathered my things quickly, avoiding William and Sean’s questions as I bolted out the door.

The Rest of the Day

The corridors buzzed with the usual chaos of students rushing between classes. I kept my head down, weaving through the crowd. My next class wasn’t for another hour, so I made my way to the courtyard.

Sara caught up with me near the stone fountain, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

“You okay?” she asked, falling into step beside me.

“Yeah,” I lied, shoving my hands into my pockets.

“You bolted out of class like your life depended on it,” she pressed. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

I sighed, glancing at her. “I’m fine, Sara. Really. Just needed some air.”

She frowned but didn’t push further. Instead, she sat on the edge of the fountain, motioning for me to join her.

“Have you ever tried talking to it?” she asked suddenly.

I blinked. “Talking to what?”

“The wolf,” she said, her tone serious. “Professor Elliot said it’s a part of you, right? So... maybe you should try communicating with it. See what it wants.”

The idea was absurd, but something about it stuck in my mind.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I meant it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Lunch was uneventful, save for Kira’s occasional pointed glances. History dragged on as Professor Lenora droned about the politics of the supernatural council. By the time my final class ended, I felt drained.

As I headed back to the dorms, I couldn’t shake Sara’s words. Talk to it.

That night, lying in bed, I closed my eyes and focused inward. The wolf had been quiet for two months, but I knew it was still there, watching, waiting.

What do you want? I thought, reaching out into the void of my mind.

There was no answer, but for the first time in weeks, I felt its presence.