Page 55 of Blood Moon
“Whatwasthat?” I looked for an animal in distress.
Seven stepped away and looked into the evening, searching. Mortification froze him in place, and I pulled on his shirt, hoping to snap him out of it. “Sev,” I uttered.
He flinched, straightened his stance. “Sorry.” His eyes were a shade of ebony. “It’s just … I don’t know. That was strange.”
I gulped, investigated the shadows. “Maybe we should call campus security,” I said, ready to go inside. “With everything going on in the city, I don’t want anything to happen to you on your walk back.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. The darkness is nothing for me,” Seven promised.
“Butthatwas weird,” I reminded, trying to keep my mind from thinking the worst.
“Yeah … but I’m sure it’s just some animal. It didn’t sound like a bear.”
I stopped looking into the night, anxious I’d see something I couldn’t explain. “I’m going to head inside. Will you please let me know when you make it to your dorm?” He gave me a nod and opened the door for me.
Inside, I dashed through the foyer and past a few people that lingered on the couch. When I returned to my room, the TV was on, but Stevie was gone. I imagined she was a few doors down, with Em and Abi.
By the time I climbed into bed, my head was spinning, and then, a thudding reminder:the book.With a careful hand, I retrieved it from my bag, brought it with me to bed. My fingers grazed the cover, bumped over the engraved words.
I sank into my covers as I opened it, the smell of leather engulfing me. A table of contents marked three sections:The Beginning, The Middle, The Now.As I flipped a page, something shifted toward the back. It was a smaller booklet with withered pages, titled:Lost Letters by Articles, labeledI-VII.
Tucked the booklet back, returned to page one.
The grander part of this tale may never be published past what has already taken place. For many desire to believe that of which lies ahead but repudiate that of which lies behind; misfortune may emanate from both.
It was but a hot summer’s eve in July of 1831. A day which history would preserve. A dozen civilians were stricken by mysterious beasts. The troublesome event ensued west of the Missouri River, a quarter ‘til midnight. City folk descended into mass panic, many fleeing from the port from which the monsters emerged—beneath the moonlight, at the edge of the bank.
Owing to this catastrophe are the souls who remained to authenticate this occurrence. It was said that the first beast was of tawny and black colorings. A physique grander than the grandest bear, with formidable teeth and elongated claws. This, they believed, was of Lycan descent.
One of the extremities of this malevolent creature was perhaps the way in which it attacked its prey. It lunged deliberately for the heart and chest, delivering fatal wounds. Few of the unfortunates were decapitated.An onlooker uncovered a skull in the belly of the woods, splintered open like an egg, some many feet away from its body.
The second beast was thought to be of the Nosferatu, humanlike but not of the Devil’s mercy. The beauty they possessed was that of a curse, capable of luring even the best philosopher. Teeth sharper than iron. According to many accounts, the Nosferatu were inflicted with an unquenchable blood lust. Onlookers alleged both beasts fought one another, rather than operating as coconspirators.
Unlike the Lycan, the Nosferatu inflicted pain to the neck, draining victims of blood like a leech …
My eyes flickered from line to line until I couldn’t hold the book up. The moment my vision succumbed to blackness, lifeless bodies appeared under crystal moonlight. Smoke danced in the air, twirling toward a bleak sky. A riverbank sparkled with water. Brushing against the shore, a head of a man. It drifted toward me, bodyless. Red eyes gaped in my direction. An open mouth, fangs sharp and oozing with a thick blood.
It blinked …
I jolted awake, sweating. Hours had passed. Stevie had returned, asleep in her bed. The room was void of light, and the hall was filled with silence.
I placed the book in the drawer of my bedside table, pulled back the curtains, and peeked through the blinds to stare into the woods.
All was still. Not an utterance from a living creature; not even the grass stirred. But swelling in the back of my thoughts was the growing whisper of Julian’s voice. It pleaded with me, gripped at my membranes.
You know this,he’d said.
CHAPTER28
Tomorrow could not prepare us for what came next.
Article III, Lost Letters from Aadan the First
I sauntered across campus with a heaviness in my eyes, wishing to shield myself from the daylight, but pitched in the unending sea of blue, between clouds, was the moon. It was unrelenting, unwilling to give itself fully to the dark abyss that awaited its return.
And, as if summoned in the same likeness of the moon, there Julian was. He sat on an iron bench, arms resting on his knees, face fixed with a half smile as he twirled a pair of sunglasses between his fingers. He was expecting me.
“As she lives and breathes,” he said as I got closer, and he stood.
