The Crossroads

I met the man at the crossroads. Where my dreams said he would be. In my sleep he promised me a golden pen, Which would set my poetry free.
He was a giant of a man an albino with sharpened teeth and pink eyes. He spoke to me gently and said listen to me my child and you had better realize. Once you complete this ceremony your soul shall be forever mine!
He grabbed my hand quickly and sliced it with a serpent shaped knife. He then stabbed the wound with the pen, that would surely change my life.
Then forced me to write my name in blood on parchment, and set it ablaze.
My eyes met his in a terrible hypnotic gaze.
Instantly I felt a fire ignite my soul. My life changed forever that night, my destiny I could no longer control.
Once a month my transformation begins. On every eclipse I bay at the stolen moon.
With each sacrifice the words from my pen come to me more clearly. As for the victims I hunt they always pay dearly.
As I slice, tear, and gnaw at flesh. I bathe in their blood, and howl at the cries of my hunted meat.
In the palm of my hand where the scar once was. Now shows a pentagram as red as the sun!
Will I meet my demise one day in an extreme violent fight? Will I die screaming while being hunted with torches, on a cold winters night?