Carl Bennett
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 114
In a rather sultory mood, Carlisle sat down at his dinner table, irritably shuffling through the stacks of bills the Bennett's had received, his manner deterring the rest of his family from him. Tommy was watching some educational video in the living room, while Margaret sat in the armchair, reading a People magazine but keeping a watchful eye on her son as she learned the latest dish on the hottest celebrities. Lucas was off on his own, probably chatting on the internet with some of his friends or playing his rather violent game of Diablo in his room. Carlisle sighed, running a large hand through his auburn, cropped hair. While he had acquired a huge surge in energy and was stronger than ever lately, he was growing increasingly anxious. He suffered bouts of insomnia, and often suffered the hours on end staring at the ceiling, time waxing away with the speed of molasses being poured uphill.
He sighed; there was an overload of unsettling things on his brain these days. That deer he had killed with his bare hands was one. He had gone for a walk in the woods on an empty stomach, and had sprung over to a young doe, snapping her neck with one swift motion. After he had devoured the carcass, he had had to bury it, as it was out of hunting season. He was becoming more of an animal everyday; the backs of his hands were getting increasingly hairier, not to mention the thick mat that carpeted his arms and legs. More unsettling, however, was his appetite; he could eat five steaks in one sitting, and he got sick even thinking about devouring cooked meat. It was for this reason that he ate only at places that contained steak, and that was after he could convince them to serve his meat raw. His family, although supportive, were getting quite tired of it. Not to mention his absences to the secluded cabin in North Minnesota every full moon, forced to take the Potion Estrella had brewed to make himself docile and calm. During these "monthly trips" he was subject to hunting down another animal for food, once in a while the Black Bear but more often deer and large birds. He was a monster, and he could not stop it.
He sighed, looking at a bill that he needed to pay before the end of the month. Christmas was coming around the corner. Money, money, money, that's all the world's about, he thought to himself despairingly. Not to mention, he was famished at the moment.
He sighed; there was an overload of unsettling things on his brain these days. That deer he had killed with his bare hands was one. He had gone for a walk in the woods on an empty stomach, and had sprung over to a young doe, snapping her neck with one swift motion. After he had devoured the carcass, he had had to bury it, as it was out of hunting season. He was becoming more of an animal everyday; the backs of his hands were getting increasingly hairier, not to mention the thick mat that carpeted his arms and legs. More unsettling, however, was his appetite; he could eat five steaks in one sitting, and he got sick even thinking about devouring cooked meat. It was for this reason that he ate only at places that contained steak, and that was after he could convince them to serve his meat raw. His family, although supportive, were getting quite tired of it. Not to mention his absences to the secluded cabin in North Minnesota every full moon, forced to take the Potion Estrella had brewed to make himself docile and calm. During these "monthly trips" he was subject to hunting down another animal for food, once in a while the Black Bear but more often deer and large birds. He was a monster, and he could not stop it.
He sighed, looking at a bill that he needed to pay before the end of the month. Christmas was coming around the corner. Money, money, money, that's all the world's about, he thought to himself despairingly. Not to mention, he was famished at the moment.