My senses are becoming heightened.

I can hear the people in the house next door playing the latest Beyonce album while popping open aluminum cans. Is the fizz coming from beer or soda? I take a deep breath of air into my growing lungs. Definitely beer.

I tuck a towel underneath the door, hoping that it will be enough to keep the sounds and smells out. But of course it's not.

Removing my t-shirt and pants, I stand in my underwear and continue to sweat as the beast within me fights to come out. I imagine feeling the cool forest air on my skin, but the wishful fantasy isn't enough to temper the reality of having locked myself into a windowless bathroom.

It was the next best thing after having ruled out of my other options. I pray that it works to keep me in tonight. I couldn't forgive myself for what might happen if it doesn't.

I did find some one inch polyester ropes in a shed in the back. The former resident must have been a climber or a sailor, although I would have been happier if he'd been Criss Angel. That guy might have left some proper chains from his escape illusions to tie me up.

Knotting a rope around my wrists, I fasten the other end around the base of the toilet. It's the sturdiest thing in here and it better hold. If it doesn't, I'm definitely losing my security deposit.

My skin is now tingling as if a thousand ants were crawling just underneath the dermis. I would be grossed out by the metaphor if it wasn't like this every full moon. Or if this were the worst part.

But it's not. Not by a long shot.

Now my joints begin to burn and I flex my fingers in response. My knuckles crack as the digits lengthen, hair and nails starting to grow in front of my eyes.

Swallowing hurts and I twist my neck in agony, feeling the vertebrae down my back expand.

I drop to the ground as much as my restraints will allow when my center of gravity lowers. A bushy tail that has emerged from the base of my coccyx angrily whips from one side to the other even as I try to maintain control.

It's no use though as my insides begin to play a game of musical chairs, each organ vying for the most room as it expands.

Just when it feels like my heart is about to burst out from under my realigned ribs, my skull cracks. The bones in my face contort and stretch as my nose swells into a wet, black snout, and my ears shift to the top of my head.

I want to scream out in agony, but I must keep as quiet as I can. Only a few whimpers escape my lips even as they draw into a fearsome scowl across my newly formed teeth of a predator.

As I pant, drops of saliva flitter onto the bathroom floor. My breathing begins to even. Maybe I can do this.

A cricket chirps. It's coming from between the walls. I want to eat it.

The students across the street are yelling, laughing, living.

I want to eat them, too.

No. I shake my head, the silver fur flopping to and fro. I have to keep my cravings in control. I must stay locked inside. In here, I won't cause trouble.

But I can feel the moon pulling me outside.

All it takes is for me to lift my paw and the rope breaks. The frayed, blue pieces remain around my furry wrists, but I'm no longer bound.

With one swift leap, I'm through the bathroom door. The thin wood was barely an obstacle.

The house is dark, but that doesn't bother me. I sulk down the corridor, past the bedroom, towards the kitchen. My shoulder blades graze the paneling on both sides. The laughter of the people nearby is louder.

And I am hungrier.

My movements quicken and I'm across the kitchen in three leaps, hitting the center of the back door with my head.

The glass shatters and blood flows into my eyes, but I don't care. The moon calls me, its silver rays bouncing off my fur. I can feel their warmth. It is invigorating.

My claws dig into the ground as I skid to a stop outside the cottage. From here, the path to my prey is clear. Their smell is strong, sweet endorphins mixed with putrid sweat.

A stick cracks behind me. I turn. There's nothing there. Nothing that I see. But I feel . . . something.

My skin prickles. But my hunger is stronger.

I take a step towards the laughter. A bush rustles. I stop. The metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils. The cricket still chirps. Its song is becoming more urgent.

I also hear breathing. It's deep and even. It's speaking to me without saying a word. It emanates danger.

It's coming from between the trees and it wants me to follow.

I must go to it.

* * *

We run together. He could overtake me, but he doesn't. We are equals here, one under the same full moon.

A hare crosses our path. We work together to corner it. He lets me take the kill. We share the meal.

The air thickens with fog. My legs are caked with mud, making them heavy. I am exhausted, but I don't want this night to end.

He runs in front now; his black fur covered with dew. The moon is almost at the tree line. We have only minutes left until sunrise.

* * *

I have the worst crick in my neck. Pushing myself up on an elbow, it's no wonder why.

Although I don't remember how I got here, apparently the bare ground has been my bed with the odd stick or two under my hip added for good measure.

I'm too groggy to consider the blanket over me being out of place, but it is a bit disconcerting that underneath it I'm buck naked.

But I nearly drop dead from shock when I realize that the warm pillow I've been little-spooning against isn't a pillow at all, but none other than my new dean. And not only is he staring at me with a mischievous smile, but that he's also just as naked as I am.