Snowflake, an arctic wolf, was giving birth. This little black wolf coming out was not normal. He had the purple swirls of a phantom. He will not be born with the ways of a phantom, thought Snowflake. But that was wrong. He was a phantom deep inside.
I pushed, hard. Some wolves had gathered around as I squealed. I didn't know quite what was going on, but I watched rather intently as the wolves whined. I didn't know what to make of it. I didn't know what phantoms were; and much less I looked like one. My paws touched the ground as I felt a warm feeling. Blood was rushing out of my mother, but I felt no pain- I felt happiness. I wanted to whine and run to her side, but it seemed as if I couldn't control myself. A grin spread across my face.
I wanted to cry, squeaking for some warm milk. I rushed to her side, I had gotten control. I suckled to get the last drops of milk. She had stopped breathing. I might have to be nursed by another mother. But I felt no grief even though I wanted to die- deep inside. I couldn't cry, either. I hated this. I was not a good pup, I knew that. Deep inside, I was crying hard. I was going to kill myself. No! The urge not to filled my mind, and I sat. I was born with no self-control, so I had to get it. It was hard to earn it, I tell you. And I didn't get anything on the first days of my life.
I was a huge wolf now, named Phantom. I didn't know what this meant. But others treated me like an outsider, and the pack was unfriendly to me. I was content, though. I felt as if I didn't want anyone to like me. Strange. "Phantom, try to catch me!" Said the teasing voice of Rosy. I was tempted to get her. I felt the urge to kill her. No. I wasn't a killer. "Stop your games!" I cried. Rosy thought of me as a big Dummy. I hated it. I almost loved the way she treated me, though. I needed self-control, and badly.
By this time, I knew what a phantom was. They were destroyers of my homeland: Sarepia Forest of Jamaa. I didn't want to be this, and I wanted self-control. I was hurting, deep inside. I felt the urge to rage and kill everything sometimes. Was this what phantoms felt? One strange day, I walked by the Healer's den. She called on me. "Phantom." She said in a calm voice. "I have a prophecy for you." I looked up, surprised. I never thought I would get them. "You have the life of a phantom. So go ahead, see to your urges. Kill this pack." She said. "I am loyal!" I said. It was true. "This pack is evil, Phantom. You and me are the only ones who are truly loyal." She said. I was taken by surprise.
I was a phantom! How could that happen? The urge started again. Rage, rage. I have waited. I sprang to my paws. My fangs came out. I felt a new power. My blood started to run quickly. I realized I could shock wolves if I touched them. I sprang at the first wolf I saw. I sunk in my fangs, joyfully. But deep inside, I seemed to say: What are you doing? But the urge kept growing stronger. I gave the wolf a death blow. I smiled. I was truly good, but, the urge seemed to go away. Deep inside, it started going up, above the urge. I had self-control. I was no longer a killer, but a helper.
So that was how I gained self-control. I use it well. To kill the evil. I also found a new pack, maybe they are waiting, waiting for you to join. Goodbye!