Creepypasta: Mahigun The She-Werewolf

I will never forget the day I saw her.
The night my borders between reality and fiction crashed into pieces.

My mother has always been depraved, you know.
While all our family loved animals, or, at least, cared for them, she was different.
Every time she’d see a dog on a road while driving a car, she’d make sure to hit
it if it was possible, every time she’d spot a mouse or a rat near, she’d crush it
with her heel.
We had only one animal in our house - old dog, our Pomeranian named Flower.
She gave birth to many litters in her life - yet, her pups never had a chance to see
the world, my mother would make sure they didn’t. She drowned all of them before
they could even open their eyes.
As I grew older, she started to send me to the river near our house, river she always drowned pups in, river that separated us from large, dark forest no one has dared to enter due to rumors villagers used to tell - rumors about a giant wolf-like creature controlling the forest. It was said to find and punish every human who would dare to walk into the forest and harm any living being there.

It was a summer night when I slowly walked towards the damned river.
Under my jacket, I felt little body shaking, body of a three-days-old orange puppy, the one and only daughter of our Flower. I was told to drown her in the river, as my mother always did with unwanted puppies.
The moon was full, the river’s waters seemed black and almost oil-like. Behind it, dark, inscrutable wall of forest, old, primaeval trees hummed with thousands of voices - voices of owls, little nocturnal animals, plentys of insects.
I stopped when my feet almost touched the water. I pulled out small, squealing frame, small enough to fit in my hand. I looked at the puppy last time. It really
was unique. It’s tiny muzzle was black, while most Pomeranians had them orange.
It also had a tiny, tiny light spot on it’s black nose.
I closed my eyes and threw tiny form into dark, cold water, then walking away, the animals’ weak cries still filling my head, tears forming in my eyes.

From that day full and half a year passed.
It was 2nd December - it was very cold already and everything was covered in snow.
I was watching TV in my room, it was already 1 a.m.
I could still hear my mother bustling downstairs in the kitchen. I was growing more and more sleepy with every second passing, so I closed my eyes, listening to some documentary TV crap...

What woke me up, was a scream. A scream of my mother. And squeaky barking of Flower.
I immidiately jumped out my bed and rushed to the hall.
It was 2 a.m, the house was entirely dark, the only source of cold light was a full moon.
-Mom?... - I called out hesitantly. There was no answer. The silence was so heavy it started to ring in my ears.
-Mom?! - I tried again. - Was it you screaming? Something happened?
In this moment, I caught a movement with a corner of my eye. I turned... and then I felt all my hair stand on end, a wave of cold crawling up my back.
I knew it was she. The same orangeish fluffy fur, the same unique black muzzle, the same tiny light spot on the nose. In front of me was standing Flower’s daughter I drowned over a year ago. She was already a full-grown adult. Her round, dark eyes, flashing red, were burning with hatred. She bared her teeth, growling at me.
I grabbed a vase from the table next to me, ready to hit if she decided to attack me... but then I saw a giant frame of gray fur forming behind the dog, emerging from the darkness.
I have never seen anything like this before.
Taller and bigger than any dog or wolf could ever be, about the size of grizzly bear, standing on it’s powerful hind paws like some kind of monstrous canine caricature.
It’s fur was grey, silver on cheeks and shoulders, contrasting with almost black belly, ears, of which the left one had a cut like if someone hit it with knife, and dorsal stripe.
Drops of blood dripped from it’s black muzzle, shined on tusk-like teeth, sharp as daggers.
Then I met the eyes. Eyes no animal could have.
Eyes with irises as blue as ice, with dark, almost black sclera around them, surrounded by black fur like a kind of creepy, natural mask.
What hit me the most, was evil and intelligence shining in those devilish eyes.
Whatever was in front of me, it wasn’t stupid.
The werewolf-like creature looked at me with it’s cold eyes... and then reached out it’s front right paw, five short, human like fingers with huge black claws holding two green human eyeballs... eyes of my mother. The creature sent me a wide smile, as if happy with my reaction, smile from ear to ear, showing all of it’s teeth at once, icy-blue eyes wide-open, glowing in darkness.
The sight alone was enough to make me scream loud enough to sore my throat.
Then I felt the bones of my arm breaking. It grabbed my right arm, the arm I used to throw the pup into the river, with it’s left paw. My bone broke as if it was a tiny match. The monster’s grasp grew stronger, as it kept yanking and ripping until with soft meaty sigh my own arm parted from my body.
Before I could even scream, it threw the ripped arm straight into my face, blood blinding me, metallic taste in my mouth.
Then I felt a terrible pain in my stomach. I faltered, lowered my arm, touched my ripped shirt and then a wet, slimy mass. I realized in horror that, what I touched, was my own guts.
That was the last thought  of mine before I fell into darkness.

From that night 5 years passed.
I am slowly getting used to use my left arm as the only one.
After all I cannot give up - I have to care for my mother. She needs a constant care now.
She has lost her eyes, her tongue was ripped off, as were both of her arms and legs. Now she can’t harm any animal anymore.
I have changed. I try to help every animal that needs help. People around see me as an angel in flesh for those animals, but well... they don’t know the truth after all. No one does. They wouldn’t believe me anyways.
The cops said it was a bear attack. Bear, of course. Too bad I can’t prove what I saw.
People who hurt animals keep vanishing in the forest near my house. Sometimes someone finds a single finger, a tongue, or eyeball. That’s all what is left from them.
Though all those year passed, there are still the nights I cannot sleep, haunted by past.
I spend the time sitting on my bed and just looking at the moon and the forest.
Sometimes in windy, cold nights, when wind shakes the forest’s leaves, you can hear among wind’s sough a mourning, spooky howl, then kind of barking laughter, mocking from you mercilessly.
And if you strain your ears well enough, you can hear words among the wind's wild howling, words calling out the name "Ma-a-a-h-i-g-u-u-u-n...".

In such nights you aren’t very eager to sit alone near the chimney with a book in your hand.