The werewolf reminds me of the time when testosterone was tweaking and twisting my purpose and attention, when it was causing my body to grow dark hair in the most inappropriate places.
The vampire has lost its life, its existence is driven by insatiable urge and desire and lust, it hides in the darkness and is bent on destruction.
The witch is using her knowledge and intelligence, both way beyond those of the more common creatures, to achieve her objectives, which are equally incomprehensible to those around her, so they fear her, give her bad names and try to destroy her.
For all intents and purposes, I am a witch.