The Blood Moon

Song: On My Way by Sabrina Carpenter, Alan Walker, and Farruko

The blood moon is on the rise/ The fire burning in my eyes/ No, nobody but me can keep me safe

I shiver.

My hoodie does nothing to keep the cold away, and I trudge across the meadow, my feet caked in mud. How could one field be so incredibly mucky? I loved my grandparents and the farm, but I missed Los Angeles, sometimes. And my parents. I instinctively touch my mother’s - mine, now - necklace. It’s a shimmering opal, a thousand colors at once. It’s beautiful.

I pushed that thought out of my mind and continued towards the shed, my boots crunching on the frozen grass. The moon hung in the sky, like a glimmering pearl in the darkness. It was oddly big tonight, but my mind must have been playing tricks on me.

I drop the pail in the shed and pull off my boots. I walk into the farmhouse, and to my room, trying my best to keep the mud off the polished linoleum. I go into the bathroom, locking the door tightly and stare at myself in the mirror.

Pale, brown skin, dull eyes, dark circles, and short hair. I looked nothing like the girl who had arrived at the farm two months ago for a summer trip. I had never imagined that I wouldn’t be able to go home. I shake my head. Dwelling on the past is useless.

I strip off my clothes and step into the shower, allowing the scalding water to wash away the griminess. I return to my room and put on my PJs.

My grandparents and I had an unspoken rule. They didn’t bother me at night, and I didn’t bother them. During the day, I kept myself busy doing farm chores and studying for school, and at night, I tried to read and sleep. I knew they were worried about me, but I couldn’t talk to them. I wanted to be alone.

I lie down on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

Like my parents, even sleep had been taken away from me.

Many people say that grief is a monster that chases you until you give in to it. Others say that grief is a claw that never really lets go of you. I disagree. There is no metaphor to describe grief, and there never will be. No words can possibly capture the pain of losing someone you love.

I settle down on the blankets and open up Reels of Mystic, my favorite novel.

A howl sounds from outside. My attic bedroom doesn’t have a window, but I know it’s likely to be a wolf. A lot of our animals were being taken away and killed by wolves. A few more howls join the lone wolf, and they eventually fade away.

I read until almost midnight when I hear a clunk downstairs.

It can’t be my grandparents, because they slept like literal logs. A bomb couldn’t wake them. Maybe it was the cat. I pull on a sweater and my Doc Martins and walk down the rickety stairs.

I stop ten paces from the kitchen.

The entire room is glowing red. The huge windows let in scarlet light, the color of blood. I walk to the window.

The moon.

I shivered, staring at the red glow it emitted. What is this? I know I should return to my bedroom, but instead, I open the kitchen door slowly and step outside.

The entire garden is bathed in red. I stifle a gasp. It’s...unnerving. As if the colors had faded away, leaving only bloody red in its place. I wanted to run away, back the safety of my bedroom and house, but something about the moon…called to me. It was familiar. I returned to the meadow where I was before. The moon no longer looked like a pearl, but a glittering, dark ruby.

A hand clapped over my mouth.

I screamed and kicked out behind, coming in contact with a person’s boot. They yelled, and I wrenched their hand off my face and started running.

“Stop!” the person yelled. Their voice wasn’t rough, burly. It was soft. And sweet. Like a boy’s.

I don’t know why, but I stop and turn around. “You can see the moon, too?” he asks. He wears a mask that covers his face, allowing only his gem-green to shine.

I nod, pressing my lips together.

“It’s not safe,” he whispered, “Come with me.” I shake my head, resolutely, my heart still panicked with fear. Adrenalin spiked through me.

“Please,” he begged, “If you don’t come with me, we will die. You can feel it, can’t you? Your heartbeat increasing? As the moon nears its maximum, it’s more dangerous for us. Come.”

He was right. My heartbeat was so fast I couldn’t tell one beat from the other. My legs start to shake. I don’t understand why it’s happening. I’m not turning into a werewolf or anything, I just feel as if someone shot me with glucose or energy – and my body couldn’t take anymore. Everything hummed and buzzed inside of me, and I felt like I could run for miles; I could stay awake for a billion nights.

Then the pain comes. My head starts to ache, as if it was falling apart at the seams, and the rest of my body shivered and shook as spikes of agony shot through it. I need to go, now. The boy is in similar pain, and I decide to trust him. I walk to him, shakily, and he grasps my fingers. They’re cold, like mine, and he pulls me as he starts to run.

We run past my farmhouse and the acres of fields behind it. He pulls me onto the highway, and to the Kinnon’s, our neighbor’s farm. We run into their orchard; the trees bare in winter. We zig-zag around them until we reach a small clearing. The boy falls to his knees, and scrabbles through the mud, looking for something.

A metal ring shines. He heaves a trapdoor open and gestures to me. I don’t question him, and I jump in. It’s a short drop, and I fall on my knees, sending a sharp jolt of pain through them.

He jumps in after me, closing the trapdoor behind us. It’s utterly dark. But I can feel my heartbeat decrease, the adrenalin fading. I take deep breaths, wiggling my fingers. The pain dissipates.

The boy pulls on a rope, and lights switch on. We’re in a small, underground cavern. I can hear water dripping nearby. A rugged sofa, a battered coffee table, and a small refrigerator stand near the cave’s center.

The boy pulls off his mask and his jacket. He’s dripping with sweat. His hair chocolate-brown, but his skin is as pale as ordinary moonlight.

“W-what was all that?” I ask, finally regaining control of my voice.

The boy started to pace the length of the cave.

“The Blood Moon. It’s the night when all malevolence in the world is reborn. There are monsters, demons, evil things in this world. All of them return on the night of the blood moon. Most people can’t see the moon tonight.”

I sink down on the sofa, which is surprisingly comfortable. “B-but we can see the red moon. Are there others like us? Who can see the moon?”

At that, the boy stopped pacing.

“Until tonight,” he said softly, “I thought I was the last one. But I’m not, apparently.”

I drop my head in my hands. “But why? What’s the point of being able to see the blood moon?”

The boy sat down on the coffee table, facing me. “Do you know what the yin and yang are?”

“The black and white spiral thingy.”

He gave a small laugh. “Yin and Yang are the basis of who we are. It is a symbol of balance. Light and dark exist within each other and must always be kept in balance. It is our job to keep it that way, to make sure that our world is not consumed by either,” he sighed, “Ever since our numbers started reducing, darkness has been in power. We are almost on the edge of an apocalypse. All the creatures of darkness - they will pillage the earth. Soon.”

I think back to the howls I keep hearing at night—the number of animals on the farm that turned up dead every morning. I could feel the reality sinking in. “And we’re supposed to prevent it?”

“We aren’t completely powerless. We are swifter and smarter than most humans.”

“Great,” I sigh. I finger my necklace.

The boy, in the meantime, started rummaging through the fridge. He threw a mars bar to me. I opened it and chewed on it, allowing the chocolate to warm me.

That was when it struck me that I didn’t even know the boy’s name. “What’s your name?” I asked.

He looked mildly affronted. “Aster. And you?”

“Chandra.”

He knelt down in front of me. “Can I see your necklace?” My hand protectively went to my throat, but I could see nothing but curiosity in his eyes. I handed it to him carefully. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “Thanks.” I look into his depthless green eyes, and he looks at me. We hold each other’s gaze a moment too long, and I can feel my cheeks warming.

A howl echoes from above us, ruining the moment. The sound of thumping feet reverberates through the cavern. Aster puts on his jacket and pulls out a long, curved sword from his belt. He hands it to me. “I don’t know what to do with this!” I yell at him, over the sound of the thumping.

“You’ll know what to do with it when the time comes!” I tighten my boots and grab the sword. The metal was warm, as if it were alive, responding to me.

I follow Aster up the ladder to the trapdoor, and we burst out of the cavern. The wolves – or whatever those creatures were – were gone. But they had left an easy track for us to follow.

We ran faster than I had ever imagined I could run, and we burst out into the farm’s clearing.

It was…gone. Where the Kinnon’s home was, there was nothing but a crumpled skeleton of a house. The Kinnon’s - th-they would’ve been buried. Dead.

Panic overcame me. The Kinnon’s were my friends. Their daughter, the parents. I knew them. They weren’t gone. This was a nightmare. I had to wake up. I pinched myself. I sniffed, clenching my teeth to prevent the tears from falling.

A doll lay on the ground, one of its arms missing. I picked it up and tucked it into my jacket. I couldn’t fall to pieces. Not now. My throat started to close up, but I swallowed and nodded to Aster.

We headed back to my home and into the meadow where we had met. The army was there, galloping towards the house.

Fear lashed through me. They were going after Gran and Gramps. A slow, cold, rage started setting in. The world started to quiet down, and the only thing I could hear was the thumping of my heart.

“Be careful,” Aster whispered. I ignored him.

I ran toward the horde of monsters. They were short, with grey skin and dead eyes. Trolls. Not wolves.

I grasped my sword, the metal digging into my skin.

As I ran into the horde, the world seemed to slow down, and I felt myself growing bigger. The trolls were nothing but ants on a tree. I stabbed a troll, right where a human heart would be, and it shrieked, turning to ash. I spun, holding out my weapon, sending out arcs of blackish blood. My sword was an extension of my arm, and I wanted to kill them all. I could feel my grief turning to rage, every stab and slash was vengeance for the Kinnon’s.

These monsters had no mercy.

And neither did I.

The wind whistled in my ears, and the trees swayed as if they were cheering me on. I ducked as a club swung out towards me, and neatly beheaded the troll. My pendant grew uncomfortably warm. An arrow whizzed past me, cutting a line across my cheek. Warm blood dripped down my face and raised my sword to meet with the axe of a troll. The force was jarring, and I pushed with all my strength, my arms screaming with pain. The troll’s eyes widened, and he went limp. Aster stood behind it, his green eyes blazing.

We fought, back-to-back, deflecting blows, and killing the trolls. Finally, after what felt like hours of combat, the last troll fell, leaving nothing but ash that was scattered by the wind.

I breathed heavily and collapse to the ground.

I pull out the doll I had rescued from the Kinnon’s, and pressed it against my chest, as the tears finally started to fall. I sobbed, burying my face in my hands, shuddering with every cry. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Mary Kinnon’s sweet smile and pinafore, her daughter’s childish laughter as her father swung her around. It wasn’t fair. It simply wasn’t fair.

Aster gently pushed my jaw upwards, forcing me to look at him.

“I know that it’s painful, and nothing I can say will take away your grief, but you avenged them. And we don’t waste time, Chandra. We have to get everyone to safety. We have to train people who can fight.”

I shuddered and nodded. He let go of me. I stood up and stared at the horizon. I pressed the doll to my heart and closed my eyes as the first rays of the sun illuminated us.

“We will not give in to the darkness,” I whisper.

Aster grabbed my hand and stood next to me.

“Ever.”