[ WP ] Everyone wants to be a beast until it 's time to do something bestial .

I prayed to become the beast. 
 
 I asked for the moon's gift, to take the ancient form. 
 
 I made a mistake. 
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 I heard about the moon's gift as a child, sitting at my grandmother's knee. She braided my hair and told me about the moon's gift, the woman's gift, that was passed along in our blood. We were special, she said, because if we were chosen, we became more than human. We became the divine, the creature of the moon. More powerful than any man, more beautiful than any woman. 
 
 I begged her to tell me the secret of the gift. She would only look at me and tell me that the time had not yet come, and the gift had it's price. Discontented with this answer, but still desperate to hear more, I only shook my head in agreement. 
 
 As I aged, my search for the secret of the gift increased. I would ask anyone in my family about it, but they all looked at me with guarded eyes and told me the same repeated facts. 
 
 1. Only a chosen woman can receive the gift 
 
 2. The gift had a price that must be paid 
 
 3. The gift would make you powerful beyond measure 
 
 4. Only women of a certain bloodline could be chosen 
 
 I was crazy over my lack of knowledge. I searched high and low for answers, even going so far as to question the elders, who withheld their information with an iron fist. The only knowledge I had been able to pry from their lips was that it had been two generations since a woman had been chosen. 
 
 Then came the day when my questions were answered. I had just turned 20, and my quest for the moon's gift was seeming like an endless grind. No one would tell me anything, no one had even seen the ancient form in living memory. 
 
 I was called to clean out my grandmother's attic after her recent death. I trudged through my work, mourning my grandmother and hating the tedium. As I moved towards the back of the attic, where the mess was the thickest, I moved an old dresser that seemed suspiciously light, and as I was moving it, I heard something moving around inside of it. 
 
 Turns out it was a book, older than any I had ever seen. Intrigued, I started attempting to read it. As I struggled through the archaic words and hard to read script, I began to realize I was holding something sacred. 
 
 The words spoke of a prayer, one that evoked the change in a chosen woman. My heart began to beat faster and time lost all meaning when I submerged myself in the book. 
 
 In the days following my discovery, I became reclusive and withdrawn, feverish in my solitary preparation for the change. I did not know if I was a chosen woman, but I did know I had the bloodline of one. The thing I struggled most with was the price. The book had no mention of what it might be, and I was afraid that anything I had would not be valuable enough to pay for the gift. 
 
 On the night of the full moon, I gathered everything I thought I might need and headed into the forest. I stripped myself of my clothing, offering up my nakedness to the moon. 
 
 I began the prayer as I had read it in the book, offering up my soul to the moon, my body, and everything that ever belonged to me. 
 
 As the minutes passed, nothing happened. Was my prayer wrong? Was any of this even real? Was I chosen? 
 
 That's when the pain hit me. It felt like a thousand deaths, each more gruesome than the last. I rolled on the forest floor, my screams echoing around me. 
 
 I had been chosen. I repeated that to myself when the pain seemed beyond compare or comprehension. 
 
 The light of the moon seemed to fill me, and I felt the change coming on. My bones shifted and creaked, my skin felt as if it was ripping. 
 
 I had finally taken the ancient form. I knew the secrets the elders had kept for so long. I knew the power, and I knew that once I reverted back to myself, I would be beautiful beyond compare. 
 
 The pain ceased, and the night caressed my new form. This is what I had been waiting for my whole life. 
 
 I roamed the woods that night, taking it all in. As the moon waned, I headed towards my home, eager to show my family and my elders that I had been chosen, that I was granted the moon's gift. 
 
 I happened across a young woman when I was almost home. She looked to be 15, and walked slowly. As I neared her, an uncontrollable throbbing entered my body. All I felt when I looked at her was the urge to rip out her throat, to ruin her. My body surged with power. 
 
 In my heart, I was screaming at myself to stop. But my body moved of it's own accord, and soon I was doused in her blood. I had mutilated her, ruined her beyond recognition. I was disgusted. Should n't I be able to control this form, take its power and put it to good use? Instead, I had murdered a girl for simply happening to cross my path. 
 
 This is what the elders did n't speak of. The urge to kill, to hurt, that every transformation would be marred by death. The gift had a price; only life could pay for such power. 
 
 I ran away, ashamed and disgusted. Why did they keep this such a secret? I had searched my whole life to attain this gift, and now that I had it, I was a ravening beast, searching for the death of an innocent. My gift would be a curse, though I would reap the benefits for the rest of my life. 
 
 The stories only spoke of the power, the beauty, the fearlessness and the glory of the gift... The persuasions a young girl would need to allow herself to become a beast, a conduit for the moon's bloodlust.
