Blood Moon Rise

Part I:

She felt a change coming, she could feel it in the wind through her hair, and a sensation of tingles under her skin. Nothing felt quite like it did days before her seventeeth birthday. "Marcy?" called her mother, "we're here". Marcy and her mother had taken a trip from their home in New Orleans, abroad to a waterfront resort in Balmy Beach, Ontario. The only entrance to the resort was by boat. This was Marcy's longest voyage with her mother. Once the ship had come to a stop, they then boarded a paddle boat to reach the shallow rocky waters before the resort.

"Kings Royal Park" she whispered under her breath, looking at the beautiful castle like resort before her, as she finally reached land for the first time in just over two weeks. The exterior was white, with accents of red, and gold. The name suited the hotel well, as it appeared it would be a great home to royalty.

Unsteady on her feet, she walked along side her mother to the registration deck, linked by the arms. "Marcy and Pearl Vincent of New Orleans". Her mother checked in while Marcy looked around in awe of the beautifully structured resort. "Room eighty nine is ready for you, here is your room key. I suggest keeping your key safe at all times" said the well-dressed man at the registration desk.

Marcy had an eye for detail, and could remember little things about little things she saw years ago. Like the name tag on a lost dog she found six years ago, the serial number on the back of the chair where she sat while her and her mother waited for the ship, and every ingredient used to make homemade custard, which she learned when she was only seven. Remembering even the simplest things has become one of her best qualities, and came in quite handy when her mother needed it.

The walls sparkled, the floors glisened, the rooms were nothing short of breath taking. The paintings on the walls told remarkable stories. Marcy opened the door to the balcony attached to the hotel room, and stepped out to look at the beautiful panoramic scenic view of Georgian Bay. She saw a group of young women in the courtyard dressed beautifully in their strategically coloured day dresses, giggling as they spotted a fleet of well dressed young men with starched collars, looking their way.

Of course, it was the year nineteen ten. Everything from intricate dresses, to starched collars, and dinner arrangements made in her honour, were nothing new. She just hoped that they didn't offer her the terrible Turtle soup they had as one of the dishes on the ship.

Before she knew it, it was dinner time. Of course, Marcy and Pearl would both be assigned a male guest to escort them to dinner. Her mother tightened her corset top, and fixed her bustle, "is this really necessary, mother?" she asked. Her mother responded "of course it is, darling!" as she tightened the top of her dress even more. "I wonder who will be escorting me to dinner?” asked Marcy. Moments after an envelope was slid under the door accompanied by a soft knock. Inside was a two line note of who would escort them both to dinner.

"Marcy Vincent to be escorted by Benzo Martinez"

"Pearl Vincent to be escorted by Harold Roosevelt"

"Perfect" Marcy said sarcastically, "As if the world were against me!" she exclaimed. Benzo was aboard the same boat, for the same 16 days as Marcy. She watched as he would flirt, and dance with a new woman every day aboard the boat. Benzo was known for this kind of behaviour. Promising every girl after the other that one night would be all it would take to fall madly in love with him. Of course nine times out of ten it would work. He would share a magical romantic evening with the woman of his choosing and by morn he'd be on to the next. "My turn for the Benzo special" she chuckled, a joke her and her mother had made on the boat.

Benzo greeted Marcy at the grand staircase, and was quick to tip his hat. "You look ravishing" he said. "Wow, what a famous Benzo line" she thought. He bent his elbow and she followed suit, linking her arm with his. When they reached the dining hall Benzo pulled out her chair, she sat down and he adjusted it so she was comfortably sat close enough to the table. White lillies and marigolds lined the centre of the table. Marcy looked around for her mother who had yet to be seated. "Tea?" The waiter asked, "please, and one for the lady" Benzo was quick to reply as he sent a charming grin in Marcy's direction.

The first dish had arrived, a vegetable brothed soup that Benzo would obnoxiously slurp down way too fast. Followed by pork, rice, and fresh vegetables. Next would be a palette-cleansing sortbet, followed by a dessert so delectible that Marcy would savour each bite. She heard her mothers laugh from further down the table, finally a sense of comfort to distract her from Benzo's terrible table manners. Men would then escort their dinner partners to the garden for croquet, the courtyard for many different things like lawn bowling, or the waterfront for fishing.

"Shall we visit the courtyard?" Benzo said rhetorically, as if Marcy even had an option at this point. She was already unsatisified with her dates dinner ettequette, she didn't think anything could be much worse than that. He escorted her to the courtyard, and they walked alongside the other couples lawn bowling and sharing laughs together. "Perhaps I forgot to introduce myself" he said, "I'm Benzo, Benzo Martinez" he said, as he took her hand, kneeled down, and kissed the top of her hand. "I know who you are" Marcy replied, "I'm Marcy Vincent, but you already knew that".

They continued to walk and talk as the night grew young, Benzo would brag about his accomplishments, which seemed less like accomplishments and more like fabricated stories he told to impress women. He went on to tell her about how his father worked on the railway, and how he had many siblings, and that his mother was a god worshiping saint. He spoke of a family dog he had as a young child, and how his dream home would look. Marcy didn't say much, nor did Benzo ask anything.

He was much older, 29 to be exact. He was 5ft 11in, 205 pounds of chiseled manliness. He had olive toned skin, green eyes, and a clean shaved face that smelled too strongly of an awful pine scented aftershave. He was one of the most unrivalled poker players to board the Queen of the Great Lakes. He had a way with women, too many women. A particular charm would flutter along with Benzo. Some would say this was his best, and worst characteristic.

The night fell dark, and the two had been walking for quite some time. It was clear Benzo had been here before, as he pointed out all the landmarks he recognized along the way. "Shall we go back?" Marcy asked. Benzo turned to her, grabbing her by the waist. "What do you think you're doing?" she said. Confused, and now scared, she began to walk alone toward the hotel. Benzo tried to stop her, pulling on her arms and dress. Forcing himself onto her, as she begged him to stop.

Then it happened. As the blood moon rose into the night sky. The change she'd be feeling. The burning sensation of all the blood in her body rushing to her head. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight as the shivers up her spine sent a chill to the rest of her body. The instant pain through her whole body. Like as if she had just been bitten by a venomous snake. She fell to the ground, and Benzo thought this was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of the situation. He began to untie her dress, and prepare himself for the event he had been waiting for all night.

Then it hit her, like a freight train. A thirst like no other. Her pupils dilated as her vision focused on the pulse in Benzo's neck. She pushed him off her, and quickly disappeared. Benzo looked around, like a lost dog who was just dropped off on the side of the road. "Marcy?" he called out. That's when she attacked him from behind. Jumping on his back, and puncturing her newly grown fangs into his neck. Benzo tried to scream, but it was too late.

She heard a whisper, but it wasn't close. It was in the distance. A familiar voice, but she couldn't recognize it. "Marceline", it called out. She lifted her head, as clouds crossed the moon. She looked down, Benzo's lifeless body was laying before her. "What have I done?" she whispered under her breath. Her last memory being Benzo forcing himself onto her. Now realizing the intentions he had since dinner, and the other girls he'd done this too. She placed her hands on her head, and took a breath. The air felt warm, different.

She looked around to make sure no one saw that her mouth was dripping in blood. Anxious, she stood up and wiped her mouth and watched as the moon continued to crest over the hills of Kings Royal Park. She adjusted her dress and bustle and began walking. She walked barefoot through the wooded area Benzo lead her to. His obvious favourited spot of this hotel. "It wasn't like this last time" she thought to herself as she remembered the last time the blood moon rose.

Marcy's family had been cursed centuries ago by a tribe called the "Snow White Killers". She grew up hearing the legends, and tales but none of it made any sense. Legend has it that one member of the family will have turned into a blood sucking man killer at the age of seventeen. Who and when was unknown and deemed completely random. The memories and stories ran through Marcy's head.

The smell of fire drifted from the resort in the distance grew stronger as she ran back to the dining room of the hotel and sat by herself while she tried to catch her breath, acting like nothing was wrong. Thoughts swarmed her mind as she processed the happenings just moments before. It was all a blur. She remembers talking to Benzo, and the warmth of his hands as he tugged her back and forth trying to get his way with her.

A waiter approached Marcy, "tea ma'am?" he asked. "Yes, thank you" she quickly responded. Hoping the waiter hadn't become suspicious of why she was alone after dark. "If I said no he might have asked questions, questions i don't know the answer to. Did I say yes too quickly? Is he on to me?" Scenarios started to flood her mind. She was scared, confused, and in disbelief. "I have to tell my mother" she thought.

Marcy drank her tea and hurried back to her hotel room. Her mother was anxiously waiting for her. "Marcy, I need to tell you something, I think you should sit down" Her mother said. "Mother I need to tell you something first" Marcy replied. As she began to tell her mother what just happened, her mother consoled her and became emotional. "I don't know how, I don't know why, all I know is i couldn't control it" she continued.

"Marcy, the legends are true. The legend says that the curse would choose a member of this family at birth, and that they would begin to change after their seventeenth birthday. That's why I brought you here, Marcy." Marcy was confused, "why here?" she thought. "You bear the mark of the curse" her mother added, gently swiping Marcy's hair from the back of her neck. "You see here?" her mother held a mirror behind her neck, to reflect off the mirror in front of her. "You were born with his mark. Your father and i have known your whole life that you were the chosen one".

Marcy changed her clothes, and freshened up for bed. She laid awake, she wasn't tired. She opened the doors of her balcony and sat outside watching as the tide pushed the water ashore.

It was morning. Marcy woke up to the sounds of the hotel employees deploying a search party for Benzo. She had fallen asleep on the balcony in her lounge chair. "He didn't return to his room last night" she heard one of the hotel keepers say. There was a stern knock on the door. "Have you seen Benzo Martinez? You were the last to be seen with him". The hotel owner demanded answers, answers Marcy didn't exactly have.

"I was with him last night, and we walked through the courtyard and then we parted ways and I came back to my room" she quickly replied. "Very well" he answered as he turned and walked to the next room, asking the same rehearsed questions. Marcy turned around, her mother stood behind her. "Don't worry now dear, everything will be fine".

Hours had gone past, and it wasn't until after luncheon that the announcement was made that 'Benzo had been lost in the woods and attacked by a savaged animal'. "Safe" her mothered whispered into her ear. She was in the clear, for now at least. The hotel employees deemed Benzo's death a complete accident, as a result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

...To be continued.