[Story] Your Sister-in-Law is Turning into a Werewolf (Patreon)

Your sister-in-law was on all fours, her nails already stretching into black claws that dug little grooves into the carpet. Her tank top had split across her chest, hanging in tatters as her muscles bulged and reshaped beneath the skin. The full moon hung bright in the window behind her, spilling silver light across her trembling back.

She groaned, low and guttural, her voice breaking between human words and something more feral.
“I—I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she gasped, her blue eyes wide, confused, wet with tears. Then her face twisted, the bridge of her nose pushing forward, lips curling back from lengthening teeth.

You took a step back, terrified, but you couldn’t look away.

“It hurts—God, it hurts!” she shouted, slamming her clawed hand against the rug. Her voice was more animal than human now, a growl spilling from deep in her chest.

Your heart hammered in your chest. You fumbled for your phone, backing up until you hit the arm of the couch. With shaking hands, you called your wife.

She answered on the second ring, cheerful and distracted. “Hey, did you want me to grab anything else while I’m out?”

You lowered your voice, though the sound of her sister’s growl filled the room. “You need to come home. Now. It’s your sister—something’s happening to her. She’s… she’s changing.”

“What do you mean changing?” she asked, her tone shifting instantly, sharp with worry.

You stared at the figure before you—her arms corded with muscle, her face caught halfway between human and wolf. “I don’t know how to explain it—she’s growing, her face… it’s not human anymore. She’s in pain, she’s terrified, she’s… she’s turning into a fucking werewolf!”

On the other end, your wife was silent for a moment, just the rush of her breathing. Then, tightly, “Listen to me. Run. Get out of there. It’s not safe. Now! I’m on my way.”

You lowered the phone, holding it close to your chest, watching your wife’s sister’s heaving shoulders and blazing eyes. For just a moment, she looked at you, truly looked at you, and there was recognition—a plea—beneath the snarl.

Then the moonlight brightened through the window. She threw her head back and let out a howl that rattled the glass.

You bolted for the door.