The change back for Shane wasn't pleasant. He'd been chasing after Red, who had gone running off and away, but he'd lost her somehow, and had ended up circling back up the stairs, prowling the building.
Around midnight he was getting bored and hungry again. Red never had turned up, her scent confused with too many other people's for him to track her properly, and he'd decided to seek out whatever entertainment he could find--likely in whatever prey he could catch. Then the clock clicked over to 11:59.
The pain was just as excruciating the second time around as it had been the first. His tail compressed back into his spine, the bones in his face shifting, cracking, snapping back into place. Dark fur sank back into skin, and sharp teeth, teeth that were nearly familiar to him by now, receded into blunt human ones. His body rearranged itself under his skin, and he tried to keep the screaming to a minimum.
When it was done, he was left lying naked on the floor, enduring small aftershocks of pain. There was still some blood around his mouth, and he pushed himself up with sore, protesting muscles, wincing.
How many people had he almost killed? Three that he could bring to mind right away, maybe four, maybe five. And Boyd among them. He felt a pang, then remembered she'd gotten away.
A small comfort. What the hell had happened? And why? And, likely most importantly, was it going to happen again?
He pushed himself to his feet. He knew he had to get back to his apartment before someone found him naked in the hall, and he stumbled for the stairs. Boyd. What could he say to her after this? What was there to say?
A voice at the back of his mind piped up, picking up a chant, insidious. It was only a matter of time. Animals always turn on the people who care for them.