Moonlight Burning

Moonlight Burning

A Story by
"

"Silvery light spilled across the floor from the moon. As it washed over my body, it burned." Concept piece for a novel I plan to write.

"

The sun's light faded as I waited for the full moon to rise on the cold, stone floor. It wasn’t the first time I had locked myself away from normal humans for their protection. Every full moon was the same deal.

A thousand pinpricks raced along my skin, but there were no pins. I shut my eyes and focused on my breath. My throat felt tighter with each passing second, the opening for air getting smaller and smaller.
It’s only anxiety, I scolded myself. Get a grip. This happens all the time. Old news.
But the feeling didn’t go away. My eyes filled with pointless tears. I wiped them away. Even when I was alone, I couldn’t show weakness.
The room went cold, and goosebumps covered my skin. My breathing shallowed as moonrise drew closer. I unwillingly opened my eyes and stared at the small, barred window.
Silvery light spilled across the floor. As it washed over my body, it burned.
I gritted my teeth and curled into a ball. A wave of agony knocked out my breath. My bones shifted slightly, causing a groan to escape my lips. I wrapped an arm around my middle so tight my ribs ached. I wanted to shove them back into place, but I knew not to.
Suddenly, I was on my back again. My breath came in gasps but still I refused to scream.
My spine curved, putting my whole body into an arch. My back slammed back onto the stone floor, winding me again.
“Oof!”
The pinpricks from before moonrise turned to stabs of a smouldering knife. My bones snapped, and I finally screamed.
Thick, blade-like fur ripped its way out from under my skin and that burned, too. I was on fire without the flames.
Breathe, I remembered. It’s much worse if you don’t breathe.
I rolled onto my hands and knees, my screams taking on a double timbre. One human, one animal. My girlish screams were distorted by the inhuman sound.
Everything dimmed, but the pain didn’t stop. My arms buckled and I fell onto my stomach. I half-cried, half-growled as sharp pain hit me in the middle of my chest.
I crawled on my stomach to the wall, but the ruthless moonlight filled the whole room. There was no escape. I was drowning in it, yet burning at the same time.
I grabbed at my overlong shirt and ripped it off as if it’d free my breathing. As if it’d cool me down. It did nothing.
My bones broke again and twisted. My scream turned into a wolfish howl. My teeth elongated and sharpened as my lips drew back into a snarl. My face burned and stretched to form a snout. My human features were gone.
I was a beast. That was my last thought as the wolf took over my mind.
I woke the next morning with gentle sunlight kissing my face. I lay semi-conscious on my side in the middle of the dungeon-like room.
I couldn’t see properly. Everything was a blur. I blinked as someone threw a blanket over me and everything came into focus.
It was Dad, purple bruise-like smudges accenting his dark brown eyes. Mine probably looked worse. My little sister, Phoebe, leaned against the doorway. Her golden hair had frizzed, covering half her face. Her navy-blue eyes had dark circles under them, too.
“Come on, sweetie,” Dad whispered. “It’s all over now.”
I was too weak to respond. Dad reached down to me with bandaged arms. He lifted me up and wrapped the blanket around my aching body. My black hair covered my eyes and I pulled my arm, the one that didn’t throb, out of the blanket and swiped it away.
“Selene?” Phoebe whispered. She sounded much younger than her fourteen years.
My eyes darted to her face. I still couldn’t speak.
“Oh, God.” Tears brimmed in my sister’s eyes. “I hate this!” She punched the wall. She turned back to us, rubbing her hand.
I groaned. My head wouldn’t stop twinging at every sound. It was all too loud.
Dad carried me out of the room and down a corridor that I was too muddled to recognize.
“Did she hit her head?” Phoebe asked. Her voice wavered but stayed strong.
“I don’t know. This is the worst she’s been in a long time. I think we need the doctor.”
I shut my eyes.
“Why is it always worse for her?”
“Because she’s older,” Dad replied simply. “Your uncle used to have the same problems. It’s a phase. She’ll grow out of it.”
“Will it ever be that bad for me?”
“No. We’re the lucky ones. It’s the eldest sibling that has the worst time.”
“That’s not fair!”
“I know, but it’s the way things go. It’s a lopsided trade-off. Selene will be stronger and faster than we ever can be. Your uncle will want to recruit her when she turns eighteen.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Never mind, Phoebe.” Dad sighed. “I’ll tell you both when you’re older.”
I hated it when Dad did that, but I was too tired to complain. The shadows reached out to claim me in sleep, and I drifted into their embrace. I would leave the hard conversations for another day.

© 2010


Author's Note

Can people PLEASE stop talking about the slicing fur thing in their reviews. I've fixed it already. If you must know what the original sentence was, here: "Blade-like fur sliced through my skin" or something like that. The issue is resolved, so please stop going on about it.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Featured Review

I have read - literally, not kidding - millions of books. Most of the published books out there are lacking in style, prose...you name it something. However, I think the "show don't tell" opinion is subjective - sorry to disagree with Shewanda there - and I think you have a natural, raw talent. You are getting your story across nicely - keep writing! Best of luck!

Posted 15 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

That was incredible, so realistic and vivid, as well as a really interesting concept! I'd definitely like to read more of this :)

Posted 10 Years Ago


[send message][befriend] Subscribe
Q.
I am really glad I came across this great piece of work! Keep it up because I'll be reading everything you put out!

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is really good, I'd love to write like you. (:

Posted 13 Years Ago


That was Super Great had me captured every second i was reading it, I would love to read more!!

Posted 13 Years Ago


It's a very good beginning for what can/will be a great story! I'm glad you went with werewolves instead of vampires. I hope you'll write more soon!

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

i love it

Posted 14 Years Ago


Indigo Rising Magazine seeks original and innovative material. This is a platform for writers to find a place to send their best and brightest work. We are open to a wide array
of arts and literature for readers to enjoy.

Best regards,

Tannen Dell.
Editor-in-Chief

&

Michael Whitaker
Co-Editor

Find us at: indigorisingmagazine.blospot.com


Posted 14 Years Ago


Actually I like all you descriptive words..very much...I was thinking of the burning in My skin when I get ..several hours of tattoo work done...it intensifies like that...until I feel I am transforming into a beast...I want to write about that triggering a transformation ..some time...? what do you think? Sir/nitsuki1

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Wonderful imagery! I am intrigued and want more. Will you continue?

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Really amazing imagery with how she transforms. I feel as if I could feel it. Really well written. I wish you could continue on with the story, I would really enjoy to read what happens next! Very compelling and I enjoyed the read.

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


First Page first
Previous Page prev
1
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

4417 Views
34 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 6 Libraries
Added on July 25, 2009
Last Updated on January 5, 2010
Tags: werewolves, moon, full moon, transformation, transform, change
Previous Versions


Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


Poetry Poetry

A Poem by Tate Morgan