Starfall

by Michael Griffo

  The hunger is so potent and powerful and pervasive that I welcome the transformation. Let my body be devoured by the curse; I can’t wait to feed. The howl that escapes my lips and passes my teeth and then my fangs is much more of a warning to every animal nearby that I am about to hunt than it is an expression of the agonizing pain ripping through my body. The hunter has arrived.

  My snout is practically buried inside the deer’s body as I ravage its flesh and blood and innards. One large paw is placed on the dying animal’s neck, not that it can escape, but because I want it to die knowing that it had no chance against me. Like I have no chance against what’s coming.

  I’ve sensed it, I’ve felt it, and now it’s finally here. I look up, expecting to see a sign, some major revelation that will explain everything, give fact to the feeling I’ve been having these past months, the feeling that help has arrived to aid me in my fight against the dark forces threatening to swallow me up whole—but nothing. Just dark sky, empty, still. The skies may be quiet, but the earth is roaring.

  I swallow hard and rest my chin on the unmoving deer carcass. The intoxicating smell wafts up from the beast’s body and threatens to distract me, but I must remain focused because I’m about to have company. There are voices in the distance, angry, hushed whispers filled with desperation and loathing and fear, and they’re all directed at me. Killers are coming, so I need to move. Now!

  Into the darkness I run, faster than ever before. My paws are hitting the hard earth so fiercely that I know I must be bruising my flesh, slamming down on stones and twigs and lone patches of ice in an attempt to outrun my pursuers. I swerve to the right, then a quick turn to the left, racing around and in between clusters of trees, following my gut, not knowing exactly where I’m running to, but certain that I’m running toward something. That feeling of certainty is ripped from me when I feel myself falling in midair.

  I didn’t see the cliff. I didn’t know it existed until it was several yards behind me, and now my legs are scrambling to find land that isn’t there. The only thing surrounding me is the cold night breeze. Give in, I tell myself, give in to the feeling of surrender. You’ve run as far and as fast as you could; the only thing you can do now is relax and let the wind guide you to your destination. When I crash into a bevy of rocks, some are rounded, some are jagged, all are painful and unwelcoming to my body, and I know my odyssey is over. I’ve come to the end.

  Or is it just the beginning?

  I don’t know where I am. This is a new part of the woods, a part I’ve never been in before as a wolf or a girl, but I feel at home. I’m not afraid even when the light from the night sky is so bright it’s blinding and I can’t see anything except a silvery-white canvas. The entire landscape, the whole world around me has been erased, and what’s left behind is only the truth.

  The light begins to recede and swirl, and through the motion I can see slivers of a midnight blue sky, tall, lush pine trees, the glowing, all-knowing moon. And then the motion stops, so all I can see are three shining stars. Orion’s constellation looking down at me, demanding my attention. I’m too weak and too curious to deny my rapture, so I relinquish. Show me; show me your truth.

  I can feel pressure on the left side of my snout, an invisible finger guiding me to turn my head so I can see what’s happening in the distance. When I see Vera standing alone in a hollowed-out patch of the woods, I’m not surprised. I always knew that she was not in Weeping Water by coincidence, but for a reason; Jess confirmed that. I’m about to learn why. But something isn’t right; no, no, something is terribly wrong.

  Vera turns to face me, and it’s as if she’s standing right in front of me. I can see her so clearly. I don’t know if it’s my doing or hers, but the result is the same: I see everything she’s doing as if she’s under a microscope. Her smile is genuine; the rest of her body is a fake.

  My belly scrapes against the rocks underneath me when I try to scramble away from the sight, when I try to run and flee and escape from what I’m witnessing, but I can’t move. Vera has come a long way and waited for this moment, and she will not let something as irrelevant as my fear stand in the way of her unveiling.

  Horrified, I watch as Vera raises her right hand to her face and presses the index and middle fingers into her eye, deep, deep into the socket, to reach behind her eyeball. The smile never fades; the pain that should be rippling through her body as she gouges out her eye never comes, because unlike me, her human form is simply a shell. In fact she is so far from being human, pain is not a concept she can understand or suffer from; she’s above such primitive feelings.

  Finally she releases her eyeball from her face; she removes it from its socket. Immediately a gust of silver light shoots out from her eye, the same color and texture and brightness as the light that used to encase Nadine’s body before it turned black with hate and sin. Vera repeats the actions, and soon she’s holding both her eyes in her hand, discarded marbles rolling in her palm, bouncing off of one another, a layer of ooze covering them, making her hands slick.

  Now two rays of silver light are shooting out of her eyes like laser beams. She looks up toward the sky, and immediately the stars in Orion’s constellation pulse with recognition. I’m not the only one who’s come home.

  The light from the stars shoots down to the earth and greets the two lines emanating from Vera’s body. At impact the world around me is doused in radiant starlight; every tree, every bush, every animal is covered in the warm rays of the constellation. Vera disappears in the star embrace, consumed by the unearthly energy, but she doesn’t cry out in pain or fear or agony; shrieks of joy and ecstasy fill the night. She might be from this world, but she isn’t of this earth.

  I am unable to control myself any longer; a howl disturbs the night. I can see my voice penetrate the starlight, making it ripple like a stone skimming across a pond until it stops when it must reach Vera’s body or where her body used to be. It’s hard to see clearly within the dense illumination, even for wolf eyes.

  “Don’t move.”

  The voice sounds like Vera’s, but not quite; same authoritative tone, but deeper, more grounded even though her body or her spirit is flowing freely in the air.

  I try to will my body to acquiesce, but I fail and turn to run in the opposite direction. After only a few paces I tumble to the ground, my neck and chin hitting the cold earth hard. Wiggling violently on my side, I desperately try to get upright, but I can’t, which makes sense when I see that my legs are tied together with silver light. Instinct takes over, and I’m about to struggle against these ropes until I see Vera standing in front of me. She looks almost the same as she does in school, just a teenaged girl, but with two shining silver orbs instead of eyes.

  “I have not come here to hurt you.”

  I don’t believe her, because now I recognize the voice. It’s a melding of Orion and Vera, both speaking to me at the same time.

  “I have come here to help you.”

  My rough growl translates into words that Vera can hear.

  “You know I speak the truth,” she replies. “I cannot lie to a member of my own family.”

  I am not part of your family!!!

  “Don’t fight what cannot be changed,” Vera/Orion says. “Fight against what should never be.”

  To hell with these ropes! I rub my body against the dirt to try and break free, and suddenly the light fastenings disappear. I had nothing to do with it; I don’t have the power to fight this thing. It just knows I’m not going anywhere even if I’m not tied up.

  “What are you?!”

  As expected, my silent question is heard. When I hear the answer, I can’t believe it, even though it’s the most logical thing I’ve ever heard.

  “I’m a fallen star sent by Orion to come to earth.”

  “Why?!”

  “To reset balance to the world.”

  Vera bends down so her face is only an inch from mine. Her starlight is just as bright, but for some reason it is no longer b
linding; it’s comforting, and I feel tears well up in my eyes, because I know there’s only one reason for that: Her starlight is familiar to me.

  “The Original Hunter is not happy with how His power is being abused,” she says, now sounding more like Vera, the girl, and not some insane entity. “I’ve been dispatched here to set things right before the path becomes irreversible.”

  Her words are mysterious, their message unclear, and yet I understand completely.

  “You’ve come to stop Nadine,” I say. “You’re going to stop her from carrying out her plans.”

  Or I know nothing at all.

  “No, you are.”

  What?! I’ve been waiting for something to come; I’ve felt it in my guts; I’m never wrong! And now you’re telling me that you’ve come all this way, from the stars in the heavens, and you’re not going to help me?! I have to do all the work alone!

  “Do as your friend Jess instructed,” Vera insists. “And listen to me, Dominy.”

  How dare this fiend mention Jess’s name?!

  “You are going to stop Nadine from turning Orion’s original plans into her own,” Vera states. “You are going to prevent Nadine from turning the Original Hunter into something vile and vicious and vindictive, but you are not going to do it alone.”

  Well, if you’re not going to help me, who is?

  “I am.”

  I know the voice before the starlight fades to reveal the woman standing behind Vera, the woman I couldn’t see before, but the woman I know all too well.

  Luba.

  “It’s time we worked together, Dominy,” Luba says. She sounds humble, which could be a result of her standing in the shadow of the starwoman. “It’s time the werewolf and the witch joined forces to defeat our common enemy.”

  What? Our common enemy? Who are you talking about?

  “Wolf or girl, in whatever state you’re in, you really are a fool!” Luba seethes, her voice now void of any humility. “I’m talking about my granddaughter, Nadine. I don’t know what her plan is, but I know that she wants to be rid of me; she wants to have all the power for herself!”

  You want me to help you defeat her?

  “No, you cursed creature,” Luba whispers loud enough to fill up the infinite skies above. “I want you to help me destroy her!”

  Part 2

  First there was the moon

  that cursed my name

  Then there was the sun

  that revealed my shame

  Now the stars have joined

  to play this deadly game

  Will the horrors of this nightmare

  depart as quickly as they came?

  And when my story is finally over

  Will I be revered

  or condemned

  to suffer the blame?

  Chapter 17

  Be careful what you wish for, because one day it may come true.

  A star may fall to the earth on a mission to restore balance in the world that it watches from a heavenly distance. A witch may extend her skinny arm to reveal an olive branch clutched in her magical fingers. And a girl disguised as a wolf may have to make a choice that could change the course of her life yet again.

  What is happening?! Vera wants me to work with Luba in order to destroy Nadine, a pairing that has obviously been given Luba’s blessing, even though I thought Vera and Luba were enemies. Maybe they are; maybe this is a way of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. Luba may consider Vera the devil, but since Luba loves to dabble in black magic, perhaps it’s a perfect pairing. Luba and Dominy? Could this also be a match made in the heavens?

  The growl that spills out of my mouth is like a release of the anger and confusion and wariness that I’m feeling. I don’t like these two women—creatures, things, whatever they are—standing in front of me. I don’t trust them, and I want them to understand I will no longer be used. I have been used since before I was born, nothing more than the plaything of a widow’s vindictiveness, and I refuse to allow anyone to use me any longer.

  Neither of them seem bothered by the guttural sound or even fazed by it, which only makes the sound grow and causes my mouth to open wider and my neck to expand and lengthen. Damn them! Damn them for cursing me and for bringing filth into my life! Damn them for expecting me to work alongside this foul woman to stop this curse from festering and becoming uncontrollable! I don’t know if my growls contain words or if these things can read my mind, but they both understand what I’m thinking.

  “I didn’t curse you, Dominy,” Vera states.

  Her tone is flat, and it’s hard to gauge her expression, because her eyes have been replaced by two shimmering orbs of starlight. Not that she ever had eyes to begin with or a face or a body; she’s a complete imposter, fleshless, a husk containing the body of one of Orion’s stars.

  “Luba cursed me and my family using the power of Orion,” I reply. “If you’re part of Orion, then you’re part of the curse.”

  Vera bends and lowers her head toward me so I’m bathed in starlight. I should be blinded, but it’s as if I can see clearer, like I can see right into the core of her existence.

  “Being part of the source does not mean I joined in with Luba to curse you,” Vera rationalizes. “The same way that Dominy was part of the wolf that killed Jess, but Dominy can never be considered Jess’s murderer.”

  Don’t say her name! Don’t spoil Jess’s goodness by trying to connect yourself to her!

  “We’re all connected, you fool!” Luba shrieks. “Have you learned nothing? Have you not yet learned that connection and balance and energy all come from the same source? They cannot be separated.”

  I refuse to believe that Luba and I come from the same source! I refuse to believe that Luba and I share any of the same qualities. Luba is a bloodhungry, hateful murderer!

  “YES!!”

  Luba’s confirmation of my scathing assessment of her character is less a word and more a euphoric cry. She revels in the fact of what she is and how she is perceived; she accepts it, which only proves that she’s sicker and more revolting than I ever imagined. Or maybe it just makes her more honest.

  “And so are you!” she cries. “You are consumed with the desire to kill the moment you transform. You fight your primitive God-given urges to destroy until they consume you and you have no choice but to obey the higher power. We are the same, Dominy, wolf or girl. We are the same!”

  My body lurches forward, but stops abruptly, and only the desperate, fearful howl that escapes me continues to move forward. I want to follow that lucky sound; I want to float on its back and soar far away from here so I don’t have to deal with this woman, so I don’t have to make any choices, so I don’t have to accept the fact that she’s right! Damn her, but she’s right!!

  I was born into darkness, I am a descendant of Orion, I am connected to Luba—it’s all true, I know that, but I don’t have to revel in that darkness; I don’t have to destroy and kill and hate.

  “That’s why you must work with Luba.”

  Vera’s quiet voice is almost lost amongst the shouting going on inside my head.

  “Just because you are a child of darkness doesn’t mean you have to live a dark life,” she explains. “You have a choice. Just as Orion does.”

  What?! Orion is like a child?

  “We’re all like children, Dominy,” Vera continues. “Orion could shine His light in another direction, ignore how His power is being abused, but He has chosen to become involved. He has sent me here as a messenger of hope, like your friend Napoleon said.”

  “The Original Hunter is offering hope?”

  Starlight glides down my fur tenderly and wraps itself around me, spreading both warmth and coolness throughout my body at the same time.

  “Not all angels are good and not all demons are evil,” she says. “Orion has immense power that He has offered to some here on earth, but sometimes He feels the need to intervene when that power threatens to cause more chaos than order.”

&n
bsp; “And he feels Nadine is going to abuse his power?” I ask.

  “My granddaughter believes she is more powerful and vital than Orion,” Luba interjects. “She believes she can rise higher than the stars and contain more power than the moon, and she must be stopped.”

  I notice that there’s a small space in between Vera and Luba that is empty, not touched by starlight or black energy, a void where neither of them can exist. It’s where I want to be, in a space where neither of them can reach me. My silent request is accepted.

  “Work with me to put Nadine in her place and I will grant you that peace.”

  I stare at Luba for a long while to make sure that I understand what she’s saying. I play the words around in my head several times, but always come back to the same conclusion: She’s offering me a truce.

  “If I cross the line and become your ally,” I say, “you’ll leave me and my family and my friends alone?”

  Even though I don’t speak the words out loud, the sound in my head is still shivering with possibility and disbelief. It feels like an eternity before Luba responds.

  “Yes.”

  “You see, Dominy,” Vera starts. “Balance can be restored.”

  I hear a rustling in a near-barren tree to my right, and I look up to see a gorgeous, vividly colored butterfly, floating in between the branches. A burst of red and yellow amid faded shadows, a sign of hope beginning to move within the bowels of the darkness.

  “Then I agree,” I say. “I will help you.”

  I sense a smile buried within the starlight. “Orion will be pleased,” Vera replies. “And Orion never forgets. Luba can attest to that.”

  Haughtily, Luba raises her chin and then her arm in my direction. She touches her pinky and thumb together and points the remaining three fingers at me, extending her arm until her fingers press against the crown of my skull. Faint pressure, but I can feel the dark heat emanating from her body. She’s branding me with her sign.