Visuals

A sudden, lucid encounter with a werewolf.

Soft yellow sconces light the mystic portraiture lining the spiral staircase connecting three floors of a domed archive salon.

Elder common folk holding opal staffs and gleaming dark eyes; pagan symbols of celestial fervor and Medieval majesty that all suddenly dim as the roof directly above me pivots, sliding back.  The uncanny night melodies of hollow wind and distant blackbirds accompanied by full moon light fill the chamber and I feel that I am no longer alone.

 

Within the solemn, magnetic mantra of the dusty, gleaming, moist air, my mind draws deeper and deeper into the slowing clockwork of my subtle nostalgic gloom and disheartening panic. 

My heart assumes consciousness, thumping; (padded industry) and the air now, filtered with sub-stellar particle awe.

 

The high brass gate around me shakes with an external presence and direct, primal fear bolts open all my mind’s trap doors as I detect the potent scent of Damp fur; like the foreign windy winter musk carried by wild game through the thicket of a restless, haunted wood.

 

Danger! Uncontrollable trembling takes the form of hallucinatory double vision, rousing me from the bellows of my diluted, tectonic psyche…

 

Witnessing the extent of such a wonder is, I would assume, like looking directly at a black hole with a temperate, shielded, subtle vibrancy.

This silent distortion, masterful in make and grotesque in posture, leapt over the central three-story chasm from one side to the other.

 

A Lyacon Deity in slow-form agony, eclipsing the silhouetted stars as the light of the full moon flooded the planar circumference of the open observatory dome.

 

A man-wolf!  By what means it had come to exist, I could not properly imagine.  Its legs were compact, but flexible; acquiring supernatural distance with only minimal strength involved, and its hair was that of a man’s… long in length and uniform in color.  It was fashioned naturally, clean and moderate in hue.

 

As the atmosphere, static and formless adjusted to the weightlessness of the beast, I felt a longing for soft and cool bloom; high prowess in the likeness of wickedness and crafted evil. 

The level of awareness I now felt, subjected everything else I had ever seen, heard or  felt, to whimsical scrutiny, even indifference as my experience haunts me like a shadow follows its object in light. 

 

Once the mere moment was finished, I decided without reluctance to investigate the animal’s trail and in doing so, I figured it would be appropriate for my aesthetic gratification and furthermore, my safety, to use the central telescope.

 

Aside this modern mechanism who’s virtuoso is in fact adhered to the fantastic nature of this fairy tale…  I am nothing but a small-world Galileo caught in the thrill of a unique story and all of a sudden, a privileged observer of something truly uncanny.