Robert slammed the cupboards in his kitchen closed, going to his draws in his desk. He needed drink, his leg and head were killing him, and drink would solve that problem. He was sure he had something lying around somewhere, but with every cupboard or draw that he opened all he found were the empty glass bottles.
When he opened up the box beneath his desk to find yet another empty bottle, he simple launched it at the wall of his cabin sending it scattering into a million shards of green.
“Salazar’s Mother, how hard is it to get a drink around here?!” he growled kicking at one of his chairs and banging a fist on the table.
For the past couple of days he had become more and more irritated, he hadn’t got any further in his hunt and he was sure the brats that he had to deal with daily were being more infuriating, the older ones especially, they thought that because they were older they were smarter and somehow thought that they were better than him, well he had shown those fifth years who was boss.
The pain in his leg although had subsided since the attack had begin to burn like a white hot fire over the past week, getting more and more intense as the days passed. Right now Robert was considering hacking it off with one of his axes; he couldn’t go to bloody Mungo’s because they would ask too many questions.
He needed air, throwing open the window he stared up at the night sky, blankets of clouds covered the moon, meaning that it was a lot darker than many other nights. He had had his fears and concerns about the attack and what it had done to him, he had just ignored the problem, ignore the problem and then it would go away. It never worked that way though did it.
This couldn’t be happening could it? Not now.
He hunched over as a pain coursed through his veins like hot knives tearing at his skin. This was happening. He had to get away, out of here, but he was in too much pain to disapparate, he could barely concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. But if he was to stay here there was no saying what he might do and where he might go. He didn’t need to accidentally run into any of the professors, or the kids for that matter, he wouldn’t know how he would get out of eating a Hogwarts student, it wouldn’t look too good on his next job application. Phff. He had never applied for a job and he wasn’t planning on applying for one anytime soon.
He stumbled out his door, staggering towards the forbidden forest; he just needed to get in there, out of the way. The lights of Hogwarts danced in the distance, becoming fainter and fainter as he tried to run through the trees. He stumbled over roots and caught himself on several branches, it was as if all knowledge as grounds keeper was escaping him and all he was left with was the need to run.
He didn’t know how long he was running for; all he knew was that pain was becoming almost unbearable. His vision was becoming blurred and tunnelled, it may have been the darkness but it was as if all colour was drained from the world.
Soon enough he was scrambling along the floor, as he tripped and fell, unable to keep upright on his two feet. Collapsing he arched his back and let out a yell of pain, writhing on the floor he let it take control of him. Ripping through his body like a wild fire, the changes began.
Losing consciousness Robert no longer was himself.
Cracking and tearing of bones and muscles echoed as the transformation took place.
Snapping, growling and howling the beast ran off into the darkness.
Leaving behind a set of tracks unrecognisable by most, but to the trained eye those of a werewolf.
