Late For His Shift
By Peter G. Reynolds
Part 2
The moon slid behind the invisible clouds once again, and Ron now found himself surrounded by sets of glowing yellow eyes. Hurry, up and shift," said a snarling, all too familiar voice Ron recognized as Alpha, the leader of his pack. Ron clenched his teeth and squinted, trying to force the change. He held back a little, as the last time he tried to force it, he just ended up pooping himself. "Do it!" Growled Alpha. "The other clans won't wait for us."
One of Ron's shoulders wrenched itself from its socket with a sickening pop, the arm connected to it growing down past his knees. "I'm…trying…Gary", gritted Ron through the pain. Sweat poured off his forehead, and he could feel a steady stream of moisture running down his leg, but the change wouldn't come any faster. Too many eyes. Too many judges. He could smell their disappointment dripping in the saliva of unspoken childhood taunts. "Little Ronny Fife can't shift to save his life" and the less clever, yet perhaps more accurate, "Shiftless loser." Because that's what Ron was, one of the Shiftless. And if anyone other than his father, and now brother, was Alpha, Ron knew he would have been killed years ago.
To be continued.