Blood Moon
Sep 16 '05
The Bottom Line Blood Moon was first published about six years ago, in Fantasy, Folklore and Fairytales, a high-quality but ill-fated E-zine.
Blood Moon was first published about six years ago in Fantasy, Folklore and Fairytales, a now defunct, high quality E-zine. This was one of the very first of my stories published in electronic form. Since then it has appeared regularly in various on-line outlets, usually around Halloween.
I thought that since Halloween was just a month away, and this was going to be my 99th review, I would take a break from my recent hard-science reviews. (Translation: Superstring Theory burned out my brain.)
Blood Moon was written in the hours immediately following a total lunar eclipse. My wife and I were standing in the garden waiting to see the moon disappear. To our surprise, it did not vanish, but turned a very deep shade of red. "It looks like a blood moon," she said. Hmmmmm...
Like most writers, I really enjoy reading comments about my work. If you want to take a few moments to say what you thought of it, I would love to hear from you. Don't be shy, and don't feel that you have to be nice. I have been writing way too long to take criticism personally.
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Blood Moon
"How do you kill a werewolf? Is a silver bullet the only way?" Jeff lounged over the only bed in the tiny dorm room. Jeff had blonde hair and blue eyes. At 6' 5", 240 pounds, his linebacker body made the bed look like a toy.
"Yes, as far as I know. Why the sudden interest in lycanthropy?" Sam sat studying by the table beneath the window. He was small and dark, the total opposite to Jeff but they had been friends since high school.
Jeff held up his heavily bandaged left arm.
"That bite you got last week? It was a dog you moron. You probably gave it rabies," Sam scoffed.
"That was no dog. It was huge; it just came out of nowhere. Look at me Sam, I'm a truck. No stupid dog could do this to me. It was a full moon and that was a werewolf. The damn thing bit me and now I'm gonna be a werewolf too"
"Is that what's bothering you Jeff? Listen to me. You're not going to be a werewolf. Okay."
"Oh yeah! And what about the gypsy?"
"The old bag lady at the fairground?" Sam shook his head is disbelief.
"Yes. She read my palm, remember? She told me to beware of the wolf. Dammit! I should have listened."
"Give it a break. She was drunk and you were drunker. You made a good team."
"She's psychic."
"She's just a cheap fake, trying to make a living because she's too old to be a hooker. Now get the heck out of here."
"But Sam...."
"What's this?" Sam held up a very large, book with a maroon cover.
"Arthur I Vogel's Textbook of Organic Chemistry."
"And what starts tomorrow?"
"Chemistry finals."
"Those of us who don't play football need to pass our exams. Why don't you go outside and practice a few howls."
"Not funny man," said Jeff but grinned anyway, closing the door behind him as he left.
#
Uncharacteristically, two weeks went by without Sam seeing Jeff. Sam began to worry. Exams were over and most students had already left for home. It was late Saturday morning as Sam sat eating breakfast in the dorm cafeteria when Jeff reappeared.
"Howdy stranger," said Sam. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Busy," Jeff replied as he closed the cafeteria door and locked it.
Sam thought that Jeff being busy meant trouble, but wisely said nothing.
"Here. Look at this." Jeff produced a snub nosed revolver from his pocket and slapped it down in front of Sam.
"Geez. What the hell are you doing man. You can't bring a friggin' gun on campus. Don't you ever read a newspaper? Forget college, you won't need a degree. Your gonna be collecting a pension before you get out of jail. Now get that thing away from me."
"The place is empty fussbucket," Jeff flipped open the chamber and emptied six bullets onto the table. "Look silver bullets."
"So now you're the Lone Ranger? Where the hell did you get them?"
"Contacts Sam, they cost me plenty. The metal is kinda soft, feel them." Jeff scratched one with his nail.
"What, and leave my fingerprints on the evidence? No thank you mister friggin' lunatic. When you go down, you're going down alone."
"Listen. Tonight is the first night of the full moon. I need your help."
"Tonight is Saturday night. I have plans." Sam made an obscene gesture.
"No, I need help this afternoon. My car's in the shop and I need a ride. Please Sam. There's no-one else I can trust."
"This afternoon," Sam hesitated. "Well okay, but I must be back by tonight. You don't want to ruin my sex life."
"Hell," said Jeff, obviously relieved. "The only way to ruin your sex life is to sprain both your wrists."
#
The afternoon sun was falling as the two men shared a bottle of wine in a deserted state park. They sat by an old picnic table near the edge of Matheson Cliffs, overlooking half the county. It was their favorite place to bring dates.
"What I don't get, is why the hell we had to come up here?" Sam took a swig of the cheap red wine and passed the bottle.
"I just wanted one last look man. You know I always loved it up here."
"Geez, you are morbid. Anyhow, it's time we were heading back."
Jeff pulled the gun from his pocket and placed it between them. "Sam, I need you to promise me something."
"What's that?"
"If I change, I want you to kill me."
"You're not a werewolf." Sam insisted.
"Okay, so I'm not. But if I change, I want you to kill me."
"No friggin' way."
"Come on. You're my best friend. Take the gun and if it comes down to your life or mine, kill me."
"NO!" Sam shook his head.
"Please Sam. We are not leaving till you promise."
"For God's sake. Oh. Okay. I promise. I don't trust you with this damn gun anyway. You're a friggin' psycho." Sam gingerly picked up the gun and pushed it into his jacket pocket. "Happy now? Let's get the hell out of here."
"We can't."
"What do you mean we can't?"
"We can't. Not with your car, anyway. I disabled it." Jeff shrugged apologetically.
"You did what?" Sam was getting red in the face.
"When you went into the woods for a leak. I took off the distributor cap and threw it away. It's down there somewhere." Jeff pointed over the cliff.
"Are you totally out of your mind?"
"No. It makes sense. I thought it all out man. My car is in the parking lot by the north entrance. I taped my keys under the hood. There's a brand new distributor cap for your car in my trunk. All we have to do is walk down and get it. That will take us at least three hours, by then the moon will have risen. If I don't change, my mind is at ease and I owe you big time. If I do change, then kill me."
"You stupid friggin' jerk..."
#
They had been walking in silence for over an hour. Jeff had expected Sam to be p*ssed but he had completely gone off the deep end. After ranting for 15 minutes using words Jeff never dreamt existed, Sam settled into a moody pout and stomped off down the trail.
"How long have we known each other Jeff?" Sam's question, after the long silence, took Jeff by surprise.
"Gee. It must be twelve years, I guess. When you moved in with your Aunt after..." Jeff hesitated.
"After the accident killed my folks." Sam finished for him. "I was the new kid, I was different and I was small. My life would have been hell if you had not befriended me. You became my big brother."
"No one messes with my bro," Jeff flexed his muscles.
"What do you know about werewolves, Jeff?"
"If you get bitten and live, you become one. I saw it in the movies."
"That's true," said Sam, "but even if you are killed by one, you are cursed too."
"Cursed? How?" Jeff asked.
"A victim's soul can find no rest until the beast that killed him is slain. The victim's spirit follows the werewolf around until it goes insane."
"Geez. That's cheerful. How do you know this sh*t?" Jeff asked.
"I read a lot about them."
"To help me? What a pal."
"Anything for a brother." Sam smiled grimly, patting his jacket pocket. "On the other hand, being a werewolf is not that bad as long as you don't kill anyone."
"Now there's a thought. I could just run around the neighborhood screwing dogs and p*ssing on hydrants."
"You're confusing it with being on the football team, moron." Sam laughed but it was clear that the darkening sky was making him uneasy. "What I meant is that you can just have trusted friends and family lock you up for three nights a month."
"Super, Sue will love that."
"Sue's the b*tch queen from hell three days a month. She should understand."
"Oh she will. I'll get doggy baths and flea collars. Still, maybe we could work it out. Perhaps you won't need to shoot me after all." Jeff looked hopeful.
The sky was almost totally dark now. Sam stopped by a cliff edge looking out over Skoon Lake below. He took out the gun and checked the chamber. "The moment of truth my friend. If you start to change now, we're screwed."
"How do you figure?"
"Well if I run away, the wolf will follow my scent. If you run away, the wolf will backtrack on its own scent. It's smart. It knows there are people back where it came from. A confrontation is inevitable. One of us will die."
"Not inevitable. What if I jump off the cliff as I change?" said Jeff.
"Good idea, Einstein, then the wolf would be down among those cabins. How many would die then?" Sam frowned, deep in thought. "The other way round might work though. What if I jump? Leave the wolf up here to hunt in the woods. The place is deserted and there's plenty of game. The lake looks so close, do you think I could reach it from here?"
"Yeah. No problem. The cliff overhangs the lake a bit. The local kids used to jump for a $20 bet till one got killed."
"Talking about local kids, look at those two girls skinny dipping."
"Where? I can't see anyone," said Jeff looking down.
"Right under us, by that tree." Sam pointed. "Look at those bezoonas."
When Jeff leant forward, the push took him totally by surprise sending him tumbling down to the water below. On impulse, Sam threw the gun after him. "I hope you don't need it old buddy," Sam yelled.
Jeff was young, strong and a good swimmer. He could survive a fall into deep water, if anyone could. He would be safe, far away with no trail, nothing for a wolf to follow. The only fresh human scent lead upwards, back to the deserted woods. Human scent, not wolf scent. Sam could always tell the difference.
Already the first light of the moon bathed the ledge. Sam's fingernails were gray and pointed, his jaw thrust forward, lips curling back to show gleaming teeth as his hair grew quickly to cover his face. Tomorrow, if they both lived, they would have a long talk about the accident that killed his folks. That was Sam's last human thought for the night. Moments later, the wolf howled bloodlust at the face of the moon.
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Blood Moon (c) 1999 Ed Churnside
All Rights Reserved.
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Watch out for review #100 and my exciting first write-off, coming soon to a computer near you.
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