The bell tolls at the strike of midnight, when the black crow flies with the moon on its wings.The leaves glide in the wind, that whistles through the barren trees and sings.A terribly, beautiful song is sung, as the bell once again is rung. One O'clock is striked, and the beast that has awaken stands in the light. His breath a stale cloud in the air, as his chest rises in anger, the townspeople are frozen with scare. The beast stood still, not a single move did he make. The town was quiet,and only a few civillians awake. His furr covered face cracked as his blood thirsty lips curled into a smile. His claws once fingers and his red eyes once crystal blue. He was once a man. A man who lived, who loved, who cared, who danced, who smiled, who had children and a wife. He was a man just a sunlight ago. But now as the moon sat high in the sky, a beast he was, a beast of the night. Deep down, deep down inside the beast, his throat rolled. His claws extended and so did his bones. He cocked his head back, as his chest filled with air now released with a howl. The bell once again striked, as hell was opened. The clouds above were broken and morining was approaching. The beast was filled with fear as he knew light would come and his rein would be done.