An Exchange Between Races

The experiments in the lab continued as normal. This time, there were a few more pricks and prods into Dean’s skin, draws of blood, and even more experiments. Usually, he would ignore a lot of the pain.

For one, he was used to it, and because he was a Werewolf, it wasn’t as painful as the first time turning when their fur practically ripped through their skin.

This process would be repeated a few times until eventually, the skin would no longer be ripped and the fur would just grow on the skin. Then there were also the painful days of starvation and restriction during the full moon.

Yet for some reason, the prods and pokes were getting to him this time. A large needle the size of a bottle with a thick end was jabbed right into the back of his neck, and a stinging pain continued.

“You’re just doing this on purpose today, aren’t you!” Dean snapped.