Disclaimer: Remus Lupin is property of J.K.Rowling, not me.

Author's note: This actually started out as a LiveJournal entry. It's just a random rambling from Lupin's POV- a flash of insight into how I see him. Please review—hope you like it!

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~Within~

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I am a werewolf. Truly, a monster dwells within my body, and every day is spent confining it. It would be so simple to let it break free of my fragile form, to burst forth from the shadowy bonds I have constructed. But I cannot. I weep, tears pouring down my cheeks to sear like fire, crystals upon my palms. They burn so brightly that I marvel, for how can such glistening beauty spring from the beast that is me? I pound my wrists against the wall, watch redness bloom to blue against the deceptive innocence of white. Pain, oh deserved pain. Exquisite agony, embrace me, let me drown in sensation, that I will not lose myself in mind. Pour forth in white-hot splendor, that I will not lose myself.

I am a monster, unseen. Those who see me do not know; those who know me do not see. A beast has taken my soul, my mind, my all. I feel him, raging. I want to rip out their throats with my teeth, my words; to feel the hot blood of redemption cleanse me. I want to hit something until I bleed, to scratch and rend and tear and sob until there is nothing left. I long to be empty. I would die to be weightless, free.

I would die.

The sharp fragments of my humanity prick me, an unwanted reminder. I want to be lost, but I have found myself. I wish to save myself, but I cannot. I sob, I bruise, I ache with hate. I ache with unspent love, I throb with the flames of self. I teeter on the brink of consciousness-- should I turn back before it is too late, or shall I leap into the black unknown? Do I circle back to shelter, or spiral down, for once unknowing?

I gather the shadows around me again, hoarding the beast, staring at the bright tear in my hand. I am a werewolf. I choose.