Running With the Moon

In her attic bedroom Mara Murray, wrapped in an old patchwork quilt, sat on the foot of her bed and watched the trees tossing in the frenzied lashing of the wind. Behind the trees clouds scudded across the sky. At random moments the moon ripped through them, creating wraith-like shadows that raced along the ground.

Mara shivered despite the quilt. The moon taunted her, the moments of fullness not enough for a change. She felt the growl in the back of her throat. She licked her lips, feeling the slightly elongated canines. She stared into the flex of shadows and moonlight. The iron manacle around her ankle promised to try to hold her, keep her safe from the call of the moon. Safe. She chuckled to herself knowing the promise was feeble. She hoped the damage wouldn't be as bad as last time.

Of course, the last time she had forgotten to eat a decent meal beforehand. Lucas had taught her that, before he... Another shiver ran through her as she remembered the circumstances of Lucas. Bless his soul, she loved him still, despite everything. Stupid man. Stupid Mara, she never should have kissed him. She wouldn't trade a moment of their time together. She wished she had paid more attention to the signs. He had tried to warn her.

A flash of lightning, a sudden boom of thunder. She thought she could hear wolves in the distance, howling. Mara shook her head, no. It couldn't be Lucas. Mara eased up, standing, feeling each creak and crack as she stood and stretched. She shuffled to the windows. The iron cuff around her ankle didn't impede her, she ignored the chain. Mara watched the rivers of rain running along the slanted panes. Running. Loping along in the rain.

With the next flash, she was in the woods across the way, past the church running and following the scent; the scent of fear. Something instinctual told her, "prey". She could smell the copper fear, hear the ragged breath of a scared runner too tired and worn to care where they should be going. She plunged headlong through low brush, following the animal path, setting an easy pace, trusting her nose where sound might be unsure. Mara lolled her tongue, grinning, anticipating the reward when she caught the runner. This would be play. No hunger drove her. She needed to run; chase. She would have to bring it down. Prey could not be free. Chase until the prey falls and when it does, take its life as reward. Who had taught her that? Another. One like herself, but not.

She paused a step and listened. Who was the Other? She knew and shook her rough mane. He was like her but not. Not different, either. The uncertainty gnawed at her belly as she sped up a little. Mara heard the thrash of wet leaves; branches breaking and knew she was near. She smelled him. A male. No doubt in her mind. She drooled a bit, anticipating healthy meat, rich blood, even sweaty shoes and socks.

Sweaty socks; the image brought her back to herself, back to the attic room and staring out the window. Paul. Why did she think of their son at a time like this in the middle of a storm. Paul was at university studying Ethics. No, that wasn't right. It sounded like that. Paul was fascinated by animals and the why of them. He could be an athlete, the boy loved football. Lucas had thought the same, our boy should be running in a stadium, not with us. He's not like us.

Paul knew nothing of his parents when they were running with the moon. He thought his parents’ idea of date night sounded like a cheesy chick-flick, something they probably enjoyed, making him uncomfortable. He preferred staying at home, listening to the call of the wolves in the deep of the night.

Mara jolted out of her reverie at the sound of the baying wolves. Paul will be home soon. Luke would have been fascinated by the boy's studies. Ethology, that's the word Paul had used. Absently, she ambled across the floor to the fireplace prodding the sleeping logs into a blaze. She pulled at the quilt, willing it tighter across her shoulders. The fabric slipped against her fingers, sticky and slick at the same time. Her nostrils flared in recognition, and she coughed a profanity. Mara whipped her head towards the window with the next flash of lightning. Where's Lucas? He should be here when Paul gets home. The thunder made her bare her teeth a second as she gripped the banister and struggled down the stairs to the front door.

Her bare feet slid on the tile, all wet and dark. Need to get those seals on the door fixed again this year, before the winter snows. After a moment, she felt balanced and stepped gingerly across the floor and reached for the doorknob. It slipped in her hand, and she cussed again letting the quilt drop as she reached with the other hand as well.

Mara took the full brunt of the door as it slammed against her, the wind buffeting past her frail body. Rain pummeled the steps while the wind fought through the trees. In a ragged blast of light she saw Paul's shoe, soaking wet and dark with... Was that blood? Where is the other shoe? Where is my ...

The thought trailed away as Mara slouched down on the small porch. Her mouth worked trying to find words. She stared, uncomprehending at her hands and feet, aware of why the chain hadn't bothered her all the way down the stairs. Crimson stains smelling like a terrible mix of copper and iron covered her hands and feet. Her left ankle had a deep gouge on the outer side, a sign of strain against bondage. Bits of hair and skin crusted her cracked nails. She crammed her hands into the pockets of her dressing gown afraid of the meaning.

She paused then, dread filling her eyes as she pulled a set of house and car keys from one pocket. Dangling between two of the keys she found an oversized silver stained with blood. Mara shook her head, moaning his name over and over. Where are you, Paul? She stood, wobbling a moment before descending into the rain.

"Paul!" She whispered scared of giving a voice to her realization. "I'll come find you, Paul. I promise"

Her bare feet splashed on the bottom step, and she turned into the storm lifting her head in the air, ignoring the wail that threatened to rise through the storm-filled night.

I'm coming", and she jogged unevenly into the rain, running with the moon.

CKK2020