Moonglow

by Michael Griffo

  I turn my right arm over, and I see the exact same thing, the same pattern, the same rhythm, and I know the same thing is happening down my legs. Wherever this pain is coming from, it’s controlled; it’s not unruly or disobedient; it has a job to do, and it knows exactly how to do it. I close my eyes because I remember what the next phase of its job is, and I don’t think I can stand to see it again.

  Screams echo throughout the cabin, and I don’t know if they’re my father’s or mine—probably a combination of both. I lurch forward, no longer able to stand on my two feet, and my hands slam into the wooden floorboards. My face is inches from Caleb’s, and I thank God—though his existence at this particular moment is questionable—that my boyfriend is unconscious. At least he doesn’t have to bear witness to this revolting transformation.

  The screams are joined by cracking sounds, one, two, three, four, and I know that my elbows and knees are breaking, snapping so my joints will bend in the opposite direction. The pain is so intense my body is on fire, and I start to shake; it’s like the blood in my veins is starting to boil. I try to shake the heat and the pain off of me, but only end up hurling myself into the wall and quickly crashing back onto the floor. Once again the only thing I’m grateful for is that I feel the cold wood, not Caleb’s body, pressing against my face. Underneath me I can feel my limbs scratch the floor, and the sound of sharp nails scraping and clawing and clicking against the wood sickens me, fills me with despair because I know there’s no way to fight this; there’s no way to turn back; there’s no way to remain human.

  It’s only a matter of time before I’m completely lost within this curse.

  Looking up I try to focus on things that have nothing to do with me so my mind can go elsewhere and not have to deal with what’s happening to my body. On the mantel of the fireplace I see a photo of Napoleon and Nadine with their mother and a man who I assume is their father. It must be their father; he looks more like the twins than their mother does. It’s a beautiful picture filled with sunshine and smiling faces; they’re on the beach, maybe at their old home in Connecticut or some tropical island, some place where there’s light and hope, some place that looks nothing like where I am right now. I wish I were standing next to them, frozen in time, smiling and basking in the sunlight instead of being devoured by the moon.

  Another scream, and this time I’m certain that it’s mine because the pain has entered the last stage. It feels like tiny pins, sharp, razor-like, are poking through my flesh, covering my entire body from the inside out. I try to scream again, but I don’t have enough energy; every ounce of strength I have is going into breathing. Why can’t I just die?! Why won’t the angels and saints my mother always prayed to show me some mercy and kill me?! Why won’t they take control away from whatever demon is doing this to me and remove my body from this agony?!

  Because now it’s too late.

  Remember, Dominy, you are blessed.

  This is NOT a blessing!

  My flesh begins to tighten and harden, and when I glance at my arm I see that it’s gnarled and knotted like I’m a burn victim who didn’t have the good sense to die. I don’t want to be that brave or stupid or heroic. I just want this to be over.

  The razor-sharp pain returns, and I watch as my twisted flesh is covered by red fur that spreads out across my body like blood until my skin disappears. Gagging, gasping for breath I collapse as the nerves and muscles and veins inside of me acclimate to this vicious takeover. Slowly I adjust, and the fur covering me, encasing me, no longer feels bristly but soft and warm like a thick quilt. My new fur is the same color as my hair was when I was a girl. It’s encouraging because it means there’s a little bit of Dominy left; she hasn’t been entirely erased. Before she recedes within the animal I’ve become, I have to make contact.

  My father is huddled into a corner on the far side of the room, fear etched into not only his face, but every inch of his skin. I tilt my snout up, aware of how heavy my head has become, and stare at him. Hopefully my eyes look the same and he can see that it’s still me; hopefully he isn’t repulsed by what he sees and he can tell that under all of this is his daughter, his little girl.

  When I hear the whimper behind me, everything changes. The little girl is ripped away, silenced, and in her place is something new and different and in many ways better. I notice that the nails on my paws are like curved white ivory, thick and massive, but tapering to a needle-fine point at the tip. I know that my body is lithe and muscular, and I feel invincible. I run my long, rough tongue over my teeth, and I feel that they’re large and jagged and hungry. My senses are heightened, and I can see and hear and smell with more precision and clarity than ever before. Whatever demon or angel has cursed me knows exactly what it’s doing. And I couldn’t be more grateful. And this boy couldn’t be more scared.

  Although he’s big, he’s more child than man, and I can smell panic wafting off of him like disease on the wind. Slumped in a far corner of the room, he disgusts me and excites me, and I want to nuzzle my face into his body and rip his limbs from their sockets at the same time. I hear my panting get louder as I stroll toward him, lazily. I’m in no rush; there’s nowhere for him to go, and there’s no way for him to escape. So there’s no reason for me not to take my time.

  A puddle of fluid appears underneath his leg and spreads out around him, yellow with a strong aroma that stings my nostrils. It’s his fear being released. I like when they’re afraid, like the other one was before I killed her. Tasting their fear gives me more power, replenishes me. He looks just like she did, surprised and frightened, and he’s wasting his breath begging to be spared. His words, like those of the girl who came before him, are useless.

  This one has hair the color of the sun, and it repulses me so much that I can’t look at it. Instead I focus on its eyes, brown like the dirt that gets crushed underneath my paws when I walk, much better. He’s calling out to me, using the same name the girl did, must be common among these things, a word they use when they beg for their lives, when they don’t want to die. Too bad I don’t know what this Dominy means. If I did perhaps I would spare them their lives.

  “Oh my God, Dominy! It’s me, Caleb!”

  He clings to the wall until he’s upright and looking down at me. I sniff the ground, and the acidic aroma makes me dizzy; I shake my head to dislodge the scent from my body and howl. It’s a long, thin, high-pitched cry, and it serves its purpose; it shocks the one in front of me so he teeters backwards and loses his balance. Now we’re on the same level again; now he’s going to find out who’s superior, who’s more powerful, who will survive.

  Swaying my head from side to side I prepare myself, remind myself to lunge for the neck and pierce the flesh where the veins are visible so the blood will flow quickly, stain the ground, and release the life force. So the body can be mine. Now.

  I spring forward, feeling my legs extend in front and behind me. I’m completely free, touched by nothing more than the wind that I create, hanging for a brief moment in the air like the moon. We are one and the same.

  I lash out with one paw and my nails scrape this creature’s arm, tearing away flesh, making blood squirt out in three horizontal lines. I touch down on the ground, only to spring back up, ready to pounce once again and rip more flesh away from the bone. But in midair I hear a crackling sound, what you sometimes hear when lightning flashes, and I turn to the left. The other creature is standing upright holding an object in its hand that’s pointed toward me. I’ve never seen this object before, but I know that it has one intention: to destroy me.

  I twist my body in the air and swerve to the left, avoiding the creature in front of me to land on the ground. This time the lightning sound is joined by a flash of light that flies past me and drills a hole into the wall, causing splinters of wood to spray into the air. The sound that comes out of my throat this time is a growl, low and guttural. The last sound that these creatures will take with them to their graves.

  “Dominy, stop!!”
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  The one holding the object cries out to me, but I ignore him. I want the one with the yellow hair. I want to destroy the sun and consume his fear, make him die knowing that he was right to be afraid.

  Once again I lunge into the air, my body stretched out, my red fur looking magnificent and sleek. I can see the scared creature under me, his arm shielding his face, one fear-filled eye visible, his body shaking uncontrollably. Then I hear the lightning sprint once more across the sky. It is the last sound I remember hearing before I’m struck by something that makes me fall.

  “Dominy!!”

  That word again! It’s distorted, as if it’s coming from miles away, but I know this thing under my weight is the one who screamed. His lips are moving, but I can’t hear the words. I see the other one walking toward me but something’s wrong with my vision; it’s like my head is twisted on its side. The man is walking sideways as if his feet are touching the wall. What’s happening to me? Why are my eyes closing? Why can I only see black?

  When I pry my eyes open I have no idea how long it’s been since I was last able to see. I’m lying on my side, and I can only see two pairs of feet standing next to me. I couldn’t have been unconscious for very long; if I had been, these two would have fled. Staying near me means accepting death, and there’s not a creature alive that would choose death over life. No, the interval must have been short. Whatever the dark-haired one did to me to prevent me from devouring his friend didn’t work.

  They’re talking again as if I’m not here, as if they think I can’t hear them. I don’t understand their words, but I can follow their intent.

  “Mr. Robineau, what’s going on?” the yellow-haired one asks.

  “I don’t have time to explain,” the other one replies.

  “But Dominy . . . she turned into that . . . thing!” he says, pointing at me.

  How dare he call me a thing? I try to lift my head, but I think I only succeed in fluttering my eyes. It’s enough though, enough for him to see that I cannot be defeated so easily.

  “She’s awake!”

  The dark-haired one turns to me, and he’s holding something else in his hands now. One side is thick and round and filled with a white fluid, while the other end is long and thin and silver. Silver. By instinct, I know that I have to avoid anything made of silver. I don’t know why, but I know that it would be a fatal mistake to think that I could survive such an attack. Interesting. I may not be invulnerable, not yet, but I’m wise, and a wise creature knows its limitations. I don’t have much time, I’m weak, but I have to try and escape; otherwise I may never have another chance.

  I feign exhaustion and drop my head to the floor, keep my eyes almost fully closed, but open just a thin sliver so I can see the dark-haired man approach me.

  “What’s in the syringe?” the younger one asks. “You’re not going to kill her, are you?”

  “No!” the older one shouts. “It’s only a sedative.”

  Then for some reason the older one turns around to face his companion. It’s a mistake.

  “How could you ever think that I would kill my child?”

  I am no one’s child!

  I leap forward, and even marred by fatigue, I’m stronger than him. I flail my arm so my paw slaps him in the back and sends him flying into his friend. Grinning, I watch the two fools fall to the ground into one heap. They’re scrambling to break free of each other, screaming at each other and me, desperate to regain control of their bodies. But they’re not fast enough.

  My paw once again rips through the air and instead of hitting the older one on the back, I allow my nails to rip through the material that covers his flesh and dig into the skin. Body lurching backward, he screams, and I savor the sound, let it wash over me as I see the blood race from the cuts in his back.

  “The Taser, Caleb, grab it!”

  I don’t know what this thing is, but when the yellow-haired one grabs it I see that this Taser is the thing that the other one pointed at me that knocked me out. I cannot allow them to strike me again.

  “Shoot!”

  The crackling sound slams into my ears. Stupidly, the younger one misses even though I’m less than two feet away from him. His hand is still shaking as he tries to point the object at me again, but I knock it out of his hand and hear it careen across the floor to the other side of the room. They have no weapons, just like me. Finally it’s a fair fight.

  As I’m about to leap into the chest of the yellow-haired one, I hear another wolf howl outside. I turn toward the sound and feel something tugging at my heart. It’s the cry of a male wolf. He could be my companion; he could travel and hunt and sleep with me. Do I give in to the innate desire to connect with my own species? Do I let these disgusting creatures live so I can go in search of one of my own kind?

  Yes.

  At the open door leading to the outside I turn around and look at the two things huddled together, eyes and mouths wide open, like the feeble prey that they are, and I growl at them. Spit is dripping from my jagged fangs, and I open my mouth wide so they can see my red tongue and my black gums and the power that I possess. I’ll return for these two, but for now I need to search for the maker of that howl.

  Outside I try and smell the scent, but the wind only brings with it a cool breeze, nothing more. I travel in the direction I believe the sound came from, but after a few paces I stop, unsure. I turn around, then to the left, but I can’t track it. It’s as if the sound and the smell disappeared into the night, as if they never existed, as if I only dreamed that another of my kind was calling out to me.

  But what does it matter? I’m here, free, enveloped by the glow of the moonlight, the glorious moonlight, basking in its radiance. I howl at the moon, a sound filled with pride and thanks and servitude. I am but a humble servant, a glimmer in the eye of the almighty, a meager offspring who must prove its worth.

  No! I am nothing but a servant who has squandered a perfect opportunity.

  I start to race back to the cabin when my body twitches at the arrival of a new scent. This is even sweeter, even more precious, even more worth killing. Bowing my head I take a moment to thank the moon for its gift. A blessing must be acknowledged.

  I turn to the right and see another house, smaller than the one I was trapped in, from which the intoxicating smell is escaping. Lavender and rain and decay all combined into one delectable aroma that I must revel in. The scent is calling me, and I cannot ignore it.

  A foot from the house I stop, the smell growing from a flame into an inferno. I lift my front legs and spring forward so I can pounce onto the door, both front paws pressing into the wood and tearing it from its hinges so it falls flat to the ground. Inside the room I see two more creatures, one a male and the other a female huddled in opposite corners. They’re human, like the ones I just left, the ones I just spared, but I no longer feel kind; I no longer feel like exhibiting mercy. Hunger has evicted compassion from my brain, and I want to taste their flesh and drink their blood. So that’s what I intend to do.

  A sound rips out of my throat, part growl, part howl, filled with savagery and purity and command. I want these two to know what’s coming for them. The wood of the door splinters underneath my paws as I walk toward them.

  “Dominy!” the white creature shouts.

  That word again. I must uncover its meaning.

  “Oh my God, it’s her!” he cries out again. “She was telling the truth!”

  The white creature is shivering, not from cold, but from fear. How majestic his blood will look when it runs like a twisted river down his pale, thin, lifeless body.

  “Nadine!”

  A new word. I don’t like it.

  “Nadine! What do we do?!”

  Futilely, he reaches out across the room to the female, but she ignores him. She’s moving her lips, but no sound is coming out. If she’s speaking, she’s doing it silently. She’s not like the other one; she’s not like anyone I’ve ever seen before. I can see a layer of silver smoke outlining her b
ody, like a stained halo, that slowly turns to liquid. The vision is really quite beautiful, but the smell emanating from her is rancid. The one who looks like snow is the opposite. He’s day; she’s night. He’s good; she’s evil.

  “Oh my God, it’s Dominy!” he cries out again. “The curse really did come true!”

  Still, she doesn’t respond, but merely keeps moving her lips, and the smoke around her shifts restlessly and grows in intensity and thickness. Despite the toxic smell living inside the darkness, I sense great power thrives there as well. Power that needs to survive because it’s a power that can help make me even stronger, closer to the invulnerability that I know is within my grasp.

  A triumphant howl escapes my lips.

  I turn to face the creature made of all white. Sometimes deciding which one to kill is such an easy task.

  Chapter 18

  The man made of ivory is about to be burned.

  As I walk toward him I can feel the heat rise in my body and greet the cold air that rushes against my fur. I imagine each strand of red hair acting like an army of flames, extinguishing the cold as it ripples across the length of my body, filling me with fire, fire that needs to spread. I’m a moving torch, and I cannot be stopped.

  “Dominy! It’s me . . . Archie!”

  I hear words coming from the male, but I ignore them because his words no longer have any meaning; only his fear has purpose. Let his mind fall into the abyss of fear that consumes him so I can devour his flesh and remind the world of my strength without any interruption. But when I’m only inches away, when my hot, hungry breath mixes with his cold fear, I am interrupted. By the other one. Her words are different.

  “Orion, souverain des cieux, témoin notre sacrifice.”

  The words seep out of the female’s mouth in a whisper, barely audible, but the sound echoes in my ears like thunder. I’m caught in an explosion, and I stumble. Her power is greater than I thought, and if I weren’t so hungry it would be amusing.