Short Stories: Moon Cycles
From mine and 13’s Asylum wolves werewolf-verse.
Faizeel had never been so acutely aware of the moon before. He couldn’t stop staring at it, watching as it cycled through from full, to waning, to quarter, crescent, new. Each day he felt anticipation and excitement welling up inside of him. The closer he got to the next full moon, the more excitement he felt.
He stood by his bedroom window, leaning out into the pale moonlight where the waxing moon lit the dying grass of his uncle’s back garden. He felt exhilarated, a wave of excitement bubbling up inside of him and escaping as laughter.
On the day of the actual full moon, he felt euphoric; manic. He imagined his tan skin glittering in the sun and on more than one occasion he could have sworn his brown eyes flashed golden in the mirror. He felt stronger than he could ever remember feeling and more awake, more alert.
Faizeel had never really thought of himself as all that charming or attractive. He mostly kept to himself and he preferred to observe rather than socialize. Now he felt like he could do anything, talk to anyone. People smiled at him on the street, sometimes even blushing and looking away when he winked at them. He couldn’t remember any days ever being like this.
As the sun slipped down over the horizon, though, his alertness turned to something else. His skin felt tight, almost suffocating. His eyesight blurred and burned. The darker it got, the more visible the moon, the worse his symptoms became. He felt like he had waited an eternity for this moon, but now it was too much.
He withdrew into himself again, busying himself at work until his shift ended. It was still light outside when he walked out of the store and followed the familiar path home. He didn’t live far, a short trek through the woods. The path was illuminated by the moon, which hung fat and round in the sky. The sight of it was almost agony, the moonlight washing over him so brightly he could taste it.
He had barely stumbled into the woods, his skin on fire when he heard voices. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they sounded close.
He was hunched over a boulder sticking out from the ground, low groaning noises escaping his mouth. A long thick line of bloody spittle dripped from his mouth.
“The first one is always the worst.” a feminine voice said from somewhere beside him.
“It’ll be over soon,” a different voice said, she sounded louder, closer to his ear. He flinched.
Beneath his skin, his bones shifted and broke and he cried out in alarm.
“We would have been here sooner,” the first voice said, “but we had a hard time finding you, after…” He focussed on her words, trying to keep himself tethered to it. There was something about her that seemed so important.
“Also some nosy vampires we needed to evade,” the other voice said. Her tone was harsh, barking.
He had no idea what she was talking about. There was no such thing as vampires.
Fai bit his tongue to keep from screaming when his bones shifted again and he felt like he was growing. At some point he did start screaming, he thinks. Though it came out as more of a snarl, a growl, and eventually a loud eerie howl.
“Good,” the important feminine voice said, “you did good.”
Fai panted, tilting his head back and looking at the moon. He howled again, the same euphoria from earlier prickling on his skin, the fur on the back of his neck standing straight up.
This time two more howls joined his.