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To the rest of you, I will tell you the tale of Tobias Hartley's life spiraling out of control as a twist of fate plunges him into a world where fairy tales and nightmares really do come true.
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Chapter 3
Reflections
Hart ran.
He needed to get away from Lance. The enormity of the situation he was in was crashing down on him, and if he stayed there any longer... he didn't want to think about what would of happened. So he ran, like he always did when there was a problem, past pine tree and bush, until he started to feel a catch in his side. He tried to push through it, but it just kept getting worse and worse. Thankfully, he broke out into a clearing from the vast forest. He didn't know how long he had been running for, but thought it would be a good idea to stop here and rest.
The clearing was actually a small pond, the mid day sun shining, and reflecting off the water. Hart sat down next to the water, catching his breath, and put his bare feet in the cool waters. The air was hot and humid, and Hart was slightly thankful that the only thing he had on was a pair of light blue shorts. He mused about how many buckets he would of been sweating right about now.
Hart sighed while listening to the cicadas, thinking about how nice of a day this could have been. Even though he didn't know what day it was, he felt that at least a few days had past since the attack that turned him into a werewolf.
Hart felt his stomach twist, memories of Lance's attack fluttered into his head. Hart pushed them down not wanting to dwell on them. He felt almost cheated. He should of died. He wasn't worth this. He just couldn't understand why Lance would turn him instead.
"Is this some cruel joke?" Hart whispered to himself. He looked up to the sky, "Is this my punishment for being a faggot?"
So this is it, I'm a gay werewolf. He laughed a little bit at the thought, which surprized him. He should be freaking out now. In every single book he read about werewolves, or vampires, the one being turned would freak out, or just deny that it happened. But this felt right... natural, like he was meant to be one. He felt that his life was on track and right where it should be. That fate put him on the course.
Thinking about fate, Hart remembered being with his dad in Limbo. He missed his dad so much, and seeing him again, hurt. He was just beginning to heal the wound in his heart from his dad's passing, and seeing him again reopened the wound that was there. He thought about the real reason why his dad died. His dad sacrificed himself to save his wife and son, to protect them against something that was coming in the future, like it was fated to happen. And the fact that his dad and himself are mages...
Were mages. He wasn't a mage anymore. His dad had said his powers changed along with his body when he received the bite from Lance. He remembered his dad saying that he didn't know what was going to happened to them now that he was a werewolf.
Well I never had them in the first place, so nothing new I guess, He thought bitterly.
Hart wondered what he was going to do now, he had no idea where he was, or where he was going. He didn't know where his car was, so he couldn't drive off and away. He had no money, or phone to call anyone, and no idea where the nearest town was so he could call for help. Panic started setting in. He was in the middle of a seemingly endless forest, sitting at a pond, and he had no idea what he was going to do, or where he could go for help. "A lone wolf is a dead wolf." echoed in his head.
"You're worth it, you know," came a feminine voice from behind him.
Hart shot up to his feet faster then the speed of light, his stomach jumping into his throat, and turned around quickly to see who just scared the ever living hell out of him.
There stood the girl of African descent that Hart remembered seeing when he stormed out of the house he was in, wearing nothing but blue jeans and a white T-shirt. Being able to get a closer look now, Hart could see she was very beautiful. She was lean and tall, with smooth, chocolate skin. Her curly, shoulder length dark brown hair, framed a lovely face that looked like it smiled a lot. Her gorgeous emerald green eyes shone caring and wisdom, and in that instant, Hart knew that she may be someone he could trust.
"Whoa, relax, I'm only here to talk, and to make sure you are alright," she stated in a flawless English accent, while holding her hands up, palm first, in a gesture to calm him.
Hart didn't say anything, only nodding in understanding, not taking his eyes off of her.
The woman slowly made her way to Hart, and offered her hand, to shake. "I'm Terrica, Terrica Blackmoore. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," she said with a smile.
"Hart," he said, tentatively grabbing the offered hand and giving it a loose shake. "How did you find me out here?" he asked as he let go of her hand.
Terrica pointed to her nose as she made her way past Hart to sit next to the pond, "Werewolves have a really good sense of smell," she said as she put her feet into the cool waters, motioning him to do the same.
Hart sat down next to her and placed his feet back into the water. He felt himself relaxing more, and the worry he was feeling seemed to melt away.
"Before you stormed off in a hissy-fit, you said you weren't worth the trouble. Well Lance seems to think you are, and I'm starting to see why," Terrica said with a wistful smile.
"What do you mean?" Hart asked, giving her a questioning look.
"Never in my 135 years, have I ever seen someone just... shrug off an Alpha Call like you did. Lance threw so much power in that call that even I was compelled into obeying it," she said, laughing. "Someone so new to all of this should not be able to do that.
"I don't make a habit of listening to a rapist," Hart spat, anger rising to the surface again.
Terrica burst out laughing, causing Hart's temper to flare. He started to get up, but Terrica put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down, roughly, onto his butt, causing a 'oof' to escape him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Terrica said between laughs. Composing herself, she continued, "So it's not the fact that Lance is a werewolf, but that he turned you without permission, that has you so worked up?" she asked, her composure slipping as she continued, "You are taking this better then I thought you would."
"Well, yes and no. He really should have killed me, I'm not worth this. He's just going to throw me away when he gets done with me," Hart declared sadly. Something in him was making him open up to this woman, and try as he might, the doors to his heart wouldn't shut.
"Lance would never do anything like that to you. Yes, he can be a hard ass sometimes. And yes, he can be annoying. But he would never just ditch you," Terrica said with conviction, looking at Hart in the eyes.
"You don't understand," Hart said sadly.
"Then make me understand," Terrica demanded.
Hart sat there, wanting to finally tell someone about his life, but scared of what the outcome would be. Terrica was staring at him with her big, emerald green eyes, pleading for him to open up, trying to show as much compassion as she could. Finally, after several minutes, Hart couldn't take it anymore. So, throwing caution to the wind, he started to tell her about his life.
"I was born in a small town called Glenwood City, here in Wisconsin. I had a normal childhood. You know, two loving parents, roof over my head, food, clothes, friends... it was really nice," Hart said smiling, remembering the good times. But his smile faltered as he continued, "It was in the 8th grade when I realized that I was gay. I never told anyone. I remember the last time someone came out, the other kids picked on him so bad that a year later he killed himself. I wasn't stupid enough to subject myself to that kind of torment, so I hid it from everyone, and felt ashamed of myself every day that I did."
"That was also the year that Andrew Hawkins moved to town," Hart continued sadly, sighing. "He was the same age as me, and on his first day, he asked if he could sit next to me at lunch. I let him, and we started talking. He became my best friend after that," Hart said. He felt Terrica grab his hand and give it a light squeeze. He wanted to stop talking, to run away from her. This was too painful and private. But her hand was reassuring, and forced him to continue.
"Over the course of a year, my friendship with him turned into love. He wasn't bad too look at, but his love of life, the dreams he made, what he wanted to do after school... he was just so unique, and I wanted to be there with him, to make his dreams succeed, to share in his love for life. But I made a mistake. I thought I could be open with him, but I was wrong. It was during lunch when I told him. I told him how much I loved him, how much I cared and wanted to be with him, to help him make his dreams come true," Hart confessed, tears starting to form in his eyes, his vision blurring.
"I remember the pain. His rejection of my love for him, was his fist to my face, but it felt like it was to my heart. I remember looking up at him from the ground after he struck me. I remember the look on his face, disgusted, as he screamed out that he wasn't a fucking faggot, how dare I tell him such a thing, and that I should go kill myself. I remember my heart breaking, the other kids screaming 'faggot' and 'fudge packer' at me, that I ran out of the school. I was so embarrassed, and hurt. I threw up half way home, bawling the whole time, feeling like I should of died," Hart recounted, tears still flowing. He glanced a look at Terrica, tears were flowing from her eyes as well.
"When I made it home, I ran to my mom and sobbed. She hugged me close and just held me there for what must of been hours. I told her what happened, and that I was gay. She just kept holding me, telling me that she loved me no matter what I was. Dad did too, when he found out later from work. The news of my outing traveled fast, and it didn't take long for the whole town to know," Hart said, the memories becoming too much. He started to really cry, he couldn't hold it back anymore. And Terrica just sat there, letting him, never looking away, letting her tears fall from her flawless face shamelessly, waiting for him to continue.
"So for the next six months, I was subjected to beatings, and tormented by everyone. Any friends I had, didn't want anything to do with me. When I walked through town, I would get nasty looks. I started to just stay home and never go out. I would wake up, go to school, get beaten and bullied, go home, and cry almost every night. I thought it couldn't get any worse then that, but I was wrong, yet again," Hart choked out, his voice straining from the emotion.
"It was close to the end of the school year, April 15 to be exact. I remember waking up to a knock on our door, it was the police. I remember seeing mom fall to her knees. I ran over to her to help her up, she was sobbing. I asked the officer what happened. He said there was a really bad car accident, that my dad died. Again, it felt like my chest was ripped open. I remember walking mom over to the couch and we sat there for the rest of the night, holding each other and crying, until we fell asleep. The rest of that week, the worst week of my life, was a blur. I felt like I was on auto pilot. I remember, during dad's wake, a little girl, couldn't have been more then six years old, ask her dad why my dad died. He said it was 'God's punishment'. That 'That's what happens when you raise a faggot.' The worst part of that was that I started to believe him too. I felt that this was somehow my fault," Hart pressed on, his breath coming in shudders. He heard Terrica gasp in anger as she pulled him into an embrace, allowing Hart to cry some of it out, before letting him go so that he could continue.
"The beatings at school stopped then. They still never wanted anything to do with me, but I think the kids felt sorry for me. But I was so depressed I didn't really care either way. I tried killing myself once, took a ton of aspirin. It didn't work though, all I did was get sick and vomit everywhere. I never told anyone I tried that. Mom just thought I had the flu. I wasn't going to tell her otherwise," Hart explained, the tears stopping, emotional weight lifting off of his shoulders.
"I finished school like that, just one day at a time, graduated, and decided that I was going to go to college. I needed to make a clean break of it all, and start over. So I applied to University of La Crosse, got accepted, packed my bags and left. And then ended up here," Hart finished. He sighed with relief, this wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. He looked at Terrica, who looked like she was on the verge of a full blown melt down. She grabbed him, with tears streaming, into a crushing hug. His breath caught in his chest.
"It's not your fault, Hart. No one should ever have to go through what you went through. Please, believe me when I tell you it's not your fault," she cried and squeezed harder.
"You're.... crushing... ME!" Hart wheezed out, feeling his back crack. Terrica released him at once, with a laugh, and Hart gulped in big breaths of air.
"Sorry, love," She said, a smile forming on her face, tears still coming full force. "I forget my strength sometimes."
The two of them sat there for what must of been hours. The sun was setting, and it was starting to cool off outside. Hart felt like he was making a real connection with Terrica, and felt like he could truly and honestly trust her. She didn't run away when he told her exactly what he was, and what happened in his life. In fact, she seemed closer then ever before, and Hart was thankful to have someone he could talk to openly. He told her of how he ran a brown wolf over with his car, and learned later his name was Brad, and how Lance had turned him. He asked how long he had been out of it. She said he was on his spirit journey for three days. She also asked about what he saw on his spirit journey, but he felt it was too private, and she didn't press the matter.
Terrica told him a little bit about herself, that she was from London, England, and that she never knew her sire. She was attacked one night, running errands for her mistress, as a slave, and was attacked. She woke up three days later, in an alley, and transformed two weeks later. She fled London, moving to Sydney, Australia. Then moved to the U.S. 60 years ago, living from city to city, until she met Lance, in New York City and became part of his pack. Brad soon joined and the three of them moved here, to Pepin, Wisconsin, about four years ago.
Hart's eyes started to sting as she was talking. It was subtle at first, but grew in intensity quickly. It felt like he was straining to look at her cross-eyed, yet at the same time, felt like there was something, like an eyelash, in his eyes. He let out a soft hiss as he tried blinking to make the pain go away. It grew worse, and he noticed something growing from Terrica's chest. He didn't know what it was at first, it just started as a glow forming over where her heart should be, but soon a small, hair like strand of gold light peeked through the shirt she was wearing. It grew longer, and moved around, like it was searching for something. It didn't take long for it to find what it was searching for. And in a quick motion, it coiled like a snake and struck Hart, square in the chest.
Instantly, Hart was filled with emotions, the likes of which he had never felt before. Wave after wave of emotion flooded through him, from the hair like filament lodged in his chest. Sadness. Pity. Pride. Worry. The feelings were so intense, and quickly overwhelmed him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. It was all consuming, and before he was lost to the madness of it all, Hart used all of the strength he had to push himself away from Terrica. He felt the connection snap, almost painfully, as he did a backwards summersault away from Terrica.
"What... the fuck... was that..." Hart breathed out, panting.
"Oh my god! Your eyes are glowing!" Terrica screamed out at the same time.
"What did you do to me?" Hart asked accusingly. The stinging in his eyes had vanished.
"I swear, it wasn't me. I wasn't using my Trick, you were," Terrica said quickly. Then she added, "Please, tell me what happened."
Hart told her about the feeling in his eyes, the glow in her chest, the hair the struck him, and the feelings that he experienced.
"Holy shit, it really was your Trick," Terrica said nonplussed. She started rambling, and not making sense. Clearly whatever it was that Hart did, it was bad for him to cause this reaction in her.
"Terrica, what's going on? What do you mean when you say trick?" Hart asked worried. He waited from her to compose herself with building anxiety.
"OK," She said, trying to find the words so as not to confuse him. "I'm going to assume you know most of what a werewolf is, you know, shift on a full moon, eats meat, bite turns... etcetera..." She said, quite fast.
"O...K...?" Hart said, trying to keep up.
"Well, after your first transformation, a werewolf comes into their abilities. The common one is being able to shift at will. And the uncommon one of coming into your Tricks," Terrica explained.
"You lost me," Hart said confused.
"Tricks are abilities that only you can do and no one else. They can range from mind reading and night vision, to seeing in the infra-red or even levitating. Tricks are unique to each person, and while some may have the same outcome, getting to that outcome can be completely different. For instance, if two werewolves can mind read, one may have to do it by touching someone, and the other one can just do it with eye contact," Terrica continued, slowing down and she got into a teaching stride.
"Can you, you know, learn these tricks from one another?" Hart asked.
"Sadly, no. It isn't known what exactly causes the Tricks to manifest. But it is thought that it may have something to do with how your brain is wired. So because you can't wire your brain differently, you can't use someone else's Trick. Hence the adage, 'Can't teach an old dog, new Tricks.'
"Oh! That makes perfect sense!" Hart said, overjoyed. "That means everyone is different in their own, special way," he thought aloud, excitedly. He was thrilled with this new prospect. Inside him, there was a special ability, unique only to him. When he learned of his past, and having his mage powers sealed away, he was sad about it. But now he felt that this would be a good compromise.
"Yes, that's exactly right. And usually you can tell when a werewolf is using their trick because their eyes glow gold," Terrica said, pulling Hart from his thoughts.
"Oh. So then what is Lance's Trick? Mind reading? Because his eyes are always glowing gold when I've seen him," Hart asked slightly worried. If Lance was a mind reader, that would be bad.
"No, Lance can't read minds, and it's up to him to tell you what his Trick is. Some of us keep them a secret for one reason or another, and I won't betray his confidence," She stated.
"Can I... ask you what your Trick is?" Hart asked, curiously.
"Um..." Terrica said, thinking on it for a few seconds. "Yeah, I can show you one of them I guess," she said, acquiescing. Noticing the questioning look on Hart's face she continued, "It's rare but some werewolves, myself included, have more then one Trick." And with that, she held out her right arm, her eyes turning to gold glow, which started to cast a light on Hart, who noted that it was night time now, before continuing to watch.
Before Hart's eyes, Terrica's arm doubled in size and bulk, as dark brown fur filled in what was her skin. Her fingers snapped and elongated, her nails becoming black claws. It all happened within a matter of a second or two. She held it like that for a little while, then clenched her hand into a fist, and did a bicep pose, all the while having a smile on her face as she did it. Then, just as quickly her arm went back to normal, and her eyes stopped glowing. She sat there with a smug look on her face, obviously impressed with herself.
"Oh wow, that was so cool!" Hart squealed like a little kid meeting a super hero. "What do you call it?"
"Partial shifting. Usually it's all or nothing for a werewolf, but I can do different parts of my body," she told him, happy that he had such an interest in it.
"So, what do you think my trick is?" he asked curiosity taking over.
"From what you described, it sounds like you're able to see the connections between people, while also feeling what they are feeling. When we head back home tonight we can talk to Lance about it and get his thoughts on the matter," Terrica hedged
"I don't want to go back, I'm still pissed at Lance for what he did to me. And honestly..." he hesitated, trying to find the right words so as not to sound like a pussy, but couldn't, so he gave up, "Honestly, I'm scared of him. Every time I look at him, I'm reminded of the day he attacked me."
"Look, I promise that Lance won't hurt you, and you have to give him a chance, please. We killed you. Tobias Hartley is dead," Terrica said, matter of factly, almost aggressively.
"W-What? You did what?" Hart asked, taken aback from the sudden change in tone from Terrica.
"We banged up your car, set it on fire, totaling it, took your wallet and left it there. The police came shortly after, did some investigating and presumed you dead or missing." She said, almost angerly.
"Why?" Hart questioned, his voice rising in pitch as the news struck him like a slap in the face.
"Oh please, don't be obtuse," Terrica said, annoyed. "Think back to all the books you've read, the same applies. We are a secret race. If word got out about werewolves, the humans would hunt us down and experiment on us, or kill us. You are no longer Tobias Hartley. You are now Tobias Bloodmoon, taking on the last name of the one who sired you, Lance Bloodmoon."
Tears started streaming down Hart's face yet again after hearing all of this. He knew there had to be a catch. Of course he had to pay a price, and it wasn't even his fualt that he was in this mess in the first place, it was Lance's.
"Look, I'm sorry," Terrica said, her tone softening after seeing Hart's expression. "It's for our protection. In a little over three weeks, you will have your first shift, and during those three weeks a lot is going to happen. You're noticing some of them now. It's pitch dark right now, yet you can see as clear as day. You have lost that little belly fat you had, you're filling out, getting taller. In the next three weeks you will gain more muscle, look older, your senses will heighten. After the shift you won't recognize yourself. You will look like you're in your thirties. After that, you will stop aging, and will never die, unless you lose your head, or take too much damage, and can't force a shift to repair it. You won't get sick, or get disease," She explained. "How would you explain fifteen years of growth in a matter of a month to your mom, or anyone in your community?" she asked waiting for an answer. When she didn't get one she went on, "You yourself said you wanted a clean break. Well here's your chance. Please, give Lance, Brad, and I a chance to help you come into your own as a werewolf. Allow us to show you the ropes of what you can expect in the future. Then, if you decide that you want to go off on your own, you can, no strings attached. OK?" She finished, allowing Hart to think it over.
Hart considered what she was saying. On one hand, he was totally clueless and to what he could do, or how he could even get home, and that made him dangerous. On the other hand Terrica, at the very least, was willing to show him the ropes, something he felt he really needed. Lance was a problem, though, having a way out by being able to leave when his training was over, seemed to be the only compromise he was going to get.
"Fine," was all Hart said.
"Oh thank you!" Terrica screamed, scaring the crap out of Hart. She ran and grabbed him into another bone crushing hug and spun him around,"Lance is going to be so happy that you're coming back! You are going to love being a werewolf!" She yelled excitedly, putting Hart down when she noticed he couldn't breathe, and starting her way back to the cabin.
"Yeah... Great..." Hart muttered under his breath sarcastically. And as he made his way to follow her back, he thought about his past life, about the events that led to all of this, and realized he couldn't allow his past to dictate his future anymore. He was a new man, in a new world, and had to face the pain of his birth into it. He would deal with Lance, in time, when he was ready. But for now he would learn as much as he could, about himself, and this strange new world he was stepping into.
Because Tobias Hartley is dead. Long live Tobais Bloodmoon.
Author's Notes-
Hey readers!
Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I've gotten a few questions from you guys, and I'll answer them here.
First, I want to dedicate this book,"Of Blood and Moon" To JakeXtraTall, who insprired me to take up writing as a hobby and start posting it on Nifty. His amazing feedback, and advice, has helped me to polish the story up, so that I can give you the very best of what I can do. Without him, this story would not be nearly as well written as it is. So, Thank you Jake!
If you're looking for something to read between chapters of my story, I HIGHLY suggest you check out Jake's story, "Favors of the First Ones" which is also in the sci-fi/fantasy section of Nifty. It's a really well written sci-fi space story that you might enjoy.
Second. A lot of you have been asking when I'm going to be posting chapters of OBaM. While it has started fast, I want to slow down. So I'm going to shoot for a new chapter every week or so.
Lastly, several of you have asked how I prepare my story. I first make a dossier (Look it up) of the people that are going to be in it. Then I make a rough outline of the whole story that includes: place, time, important plot points, conflicts, resolutions, and endings. Then I do the same for each chapter, making a slight rough draft, so that I can stay on point, and not jump to far ahead too quickly. Then I type it out, spell check and grammer check to the best of my ability, use a program called "Hal Reader" which is a text-to-speech reader, to read it back to me and help me proof it. I read it a third time, and then submit it. Hope this helps.
As always, if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, send me an e-mail at... tktravisk@gmail.com
I love getting e-mails, good or bad, and they really are the fuel to my fire.
See you at the next chapter!
-TK