Fenrir

I had a dream about a wolf.

The wolf was a monster by its very nature but that was a fact it could not accept. So it sought out people it thought could help it understand itself so it could better itself and learn to repress urges the world at large would view as bad or monstrous.

What it found was pain and betrayal. The wolf was caged. Tortured. Experimented on in the mindless pursuit of causeless knowledge. Man is always so quick to try to know what they can't truly grasp.

Its debatable if what entered that building was a foul beast or simply a wolf, but what broke out was a monster. Angry. Hungry for vengeance. Desperate to see what it considered to be justice.

And the wolf found allies. First among the morally ambiguous, then amongst those others would consider good. But for all his efforts and all he did with all his power for what he had been taught was right, his involvement only seemed to make things worse and get his friends and loved ones killed.

In the wake of possibly losing the one person left that he held dear, the wolf gave into its darker nature and fed on those that posed as a threat to her safety.

But the damage was done... she would never be okay again... and she would never be unable to see the wolf as anything but a monster again.

But at that point he didn't care anymore. When he gave in and started to feed himself in all the horrific ways he had denied himself before, she stopped being a thing he loved and started being a trinket. A trophy of his victory, not too unlike the pile of bodies he now called his bed.

The world would forever curse him and call him a monster. But he would know better. He knew that he was one of their betters. That they were lowly little humans. Men. Mortals. All of them, just animals.

But he was God and this was his right, to be strong and tower above all before him and feed on whatever he liked.

Which was everything, but the poor girl at his side.

It was quite a nightmare.