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Search for the Moon

((I got tired of waiting... Hope you guys don't mind.))


It was almost curfew and sirens were audible all over the city. Humans were scurrying into their houses, mothers putting their children to bed while fathers locked doors and set alarms. Outside, the people were changing, transforming into beasts with sharper teeth, hairier bodies and stronger muscles. They were fighting each other in the streets and dividing into groups, preparing to riot, loot, and attack anyone unfortunate enough to cross their paths.


The previous night, Penelope was convinced by a couple of friends to stay out past curfew and see what the excitement was all about. It only resulted in a fight, however, when one of the wolves got a little too handsy with her. He ended up with a black eye and broken jaw, while Penelope got away with a cut on her forearm. Having no intention to repeat these actions, she tried to get home before curfew tonight as she walked home from her minimum wage job at a popular fast food franchise. All around her, chaos was erupting, the smell of smoke was beginning thicken the air when the sound of a billboard crashing down made Penelope jump. She nearly crashed into the side of a howling man when she looked back to see three teenagers jumping on top of Sedan, crushing the roof in.


((You don't have to read the Nixie stuff, I know its long, and it's not important to the set up))


"Wait a minute... Helen are you honestly calling me while I'm trying to put my daughter to sleep, to tell me you're still mad that she threw sand at your son this morning?" Nixie questioned though the phone. Her voice was one of exasperated disbelief as she stood in her kitchen, Chloe on her hip, phone balance between her cheek and shoulder, and her free hand expertly pouring apple juice into a sippy cup.


"Not exactly. I'm more upset that you laughed when she did it instead of correcting her!" Helen fumed.


"Oh for fuck's sake, Helen they're two year-olds," Nixie answered, trying not to laugh again now that she remembered the incident.


"Oh my... Well... Even so, I've talked to Larry about it and we've agreed that we don't want Billy playing with your daughter anymore." Helen insisted, shocked at Nixie's language.


"Well thank god for that," Nixie said with a genuine smile, hanging up the phone without another word. "Okay!" Nixie grinned to her daughter as she handed her the cup of juice. "Ready for bed?"


The small girl with chubby cheeks and mousy brown hair nodded with heavy eyelids.


"But where's Wolf?" Chloe asked in a sleepy, but high pitched voice.


"Uhh..." Nixie spun around searching the plastic, wolf figure that her daughter couldn't be without for more than ten minutes. "There it is!" She said as she made her way over to the couch and picked up the small, brown wolf. It irked Nixie to see Chloe play with it, but she couldn't quite bring herself to take it away after she had cried for it in the store.


"Why do you like that little guy so much?" She questioned as she laid her child down in bed.


"'Cause he meminds me of you." Chloe answered.


"W-what?" Nixie stammered, eyes wide. She had never told her daughter what they really were so her words came as a shock.


"You memind me of a real wolf, so Wolf meminds me of you." The child explained as if it were obvious.


Once Chloe was tucked in, Nixie made her way back into the living room. She turned the TV to some sitcom she wouldn't pay attention to and collapsed onto the couch. She glanced over at a book she purchased solely to try and fit in with the other moms, but she couldn't bring herself to read past the first chapter. The truth was, she didn't fit in here, and it was just the disgusting books or the annoying mothers, it wasn't even her species, she had simply seen too much, lived in a different kind of world for too long. She wanted this so badly for Chloe, but didn't know how much longer she could fake it. Constantly worrying about when her daughter would transform on the playground just added to the pressure. They would be figured out soon, she could feel it in the air, hear it in the sirens outside. And when they were, they’d be shunned, and she would have to find Owen.
 
"Jesus H. Christ!" Angela threw her hands to her mouth and nearly choked out a cackle. Her thin dark arms were bare and glistening with sweat. "It's ridiculous! Look at them! It's fucking fantastic!!" She was wired, her eyes so wide, they almost glowed white. She wanted to join them, chewing on her bottom bottom lip, stained black with lipstick, she wanted to tear all her clothes off and join them. Heat radiated from her, seeping through her oversized t-shirt, singing the fair hairs on Penny's arms as she moved closer to her. "They look so stupid!!" She lowered her hands, and grinned a flash of the golden stud that peirced her tongue, her teeth large and awkward and also unnaturally sharp. She grabbed Penny's arm, when the girl nearly stumbled into one of the beasts, laughing at the jumpy behavior of her friend.














He sat on the bed with his legs clutched to his body, his brown hair falling over his eyes. The wood walls made faces at him in the swirling patterns marred by knots in the grain like large eyes. A window with light blue drapes opened into still black where no light could be seen nor sound heard. He would glance to this window with anticipation, anxious, knowing something was about to happen. Dread tightened his spine and twisted stomach until he felt himself shrink inside the silence, a frightened boy. The shapes in the darkness, his dresser, his desk, the small beanbag chair in the corner, became unfamiliar and menacing to him. Too afraid to move, kept as still and a small as he could physically manage, until there his head betrayed when he was alerted to the sound of a whimper .High pitched, faint, like the cry of a wounded dog.


But pets weren't allowed in the house by his mother. No dogs, no cats, of his or anyone else's were to be present in this house, for reasons his mother would never directly say. She'd just laugh and say "We already have one too many pets here." But that whimper again, much louder than before. More solemn. More pained. "Mom!" He hissed at the emptiness, willing her to come to his rescue but too terrified to call out in case it drew the wrong kind of attention. He responded to by more silence, which did nothing but strain his nerves as he tried to listen.


He stared at the door, straining to pierce the darkness with his eyes, but there was nothing. He uncurled his legs and began to breath. The boy stretched his small body against the bed, and turned his back against the window. The door creaked. A whimper, sharper, more human like a sob, poured through the room. The boy slowly tilted his head, remaining completely still, to see the figure of a woman outline in the shadows of his now gaping doorway. She was a still as him. Silent, facing him. He could feel her eyes. "Mom?" He whimpered, more loudly this time.


She turned away. Leaving the door open and empty, hungering. This time he heard a shrill cry from the living room. A woman's sobs began to follow. With a deep breath the boy slid his body across the bed and placed his pink bare feet against the carpeted floor, and began , with slow careful steps, towards the doorway. Each breath meticulously planned to make the least noise as possible.


The hallway had wooden floors and a blue light emanated from the bathroom at the other end, illuminating the black stains of large footprints leading away from his room. They were wet, and the boy was careful to avoid touching them with his own feet. He turned to the door to his living room, his mother's bedroom door was still shut, and the sobbing was increasing as he moved. It was open, the door to the living room was wide open, and through it he could see the woman, naked and standing still. "Mommy?" He repeated. The sobbing stopped.


It wasn't his mother.


Her was body was covered, in thick black fluid, like oil, and as it dripped down on to the carpet, it turned red. And though her features were obscured he could see her eyes sharp and green. . Her body did not so much as twitch, nor breath and the boy himself could not move either, frozen solid to the ground, his nostrils flared to the smell of rusted metal. He watched in silent horror as she began to open her mouth wider and wider until it began to stretch beyond human capacity to reveal a second set of teeth, sharp and surrounded by white fur. She was so close to him now, her jaw open. Her teeth inches from his lips. Breath hot against them.









Owen awoke, panting with his nails digging into his own ribs. His was trembling with the cold, yet dripping with sweat and found that he had once again managed to wake up on the cabin floor next to his bed, tangled in his sheets and with his long brown knotted hair strung about his face. A howl erupted from outside and he rolled to his stomach, grunting as he kicked the sheets from his body.


He quickly got to his feet, and found he was still in the clothes he had worn earlier that day, with no recollection of when he actually went to bed. That was the least of his concern, as he again heard that wretched sound. He hurried across the room, lifted a large hunting rifle that was mounted on the wall, checked for ammunition, and opened his door to cold winds. It was still snowing, the cold burning his eyes as he searched for the source of his grief against the white landscape.


A snarl grabbed his attention, he jerked his head around and saw a black heap lying in the snow, squirming and crying out in a shrill howl. He trudged through the slush and snow, feeling as if he were walking through glass with his bare feet until he was only few feet away from a wild dog ensnared in a beartrap. It whimpered and cried, as red pooled around it, its flesh and bone exposed at the leg where the metal teeth kept its hold. It would have been a beautiful pet, its fur was lush and thick, completely black without any markings or flaws. Its eyes were blue, wild and rolling in its skull and its tongue was dripping between its teeth.


Owen said nothing. He made no further steps towards the animal. He lifted his rifle and aimed at the creature's head. The sound wracked his skull.
 
Penelope gave a nervous laugh when Angela stopped her from colliding with the monstrous man before them. "What's the point of them doing all this?" She questioned, her voice light and airy. "Just destroying things for the hell of it... I thought they would be bored of it by now." She mused as she walked, her pace getting progressively quicker as the howls, booms and crashes grew louder. The noise almost seemed to close in around her, to clog her ears cloud her thoughts.


She looked over at her friend, Angela's calm behavior in these situations never failed to surprise her. "And how are you so at ease with it all?" She added. Ever since the sickness a couple years ago, and all the trouble it caused, Penelope found chaos a lot harder to tolerate, and last night's events still had her on edge.
 
Some time after 2am, Chole had made her way into Nixie's bed and fell asleep snuggled against her. Now, she was awake and hungry, so Nixie awoke to a finger being smushed against her nose and a tiny voice asking for "foooot looops, Mommy!" After convincing Chloe to lay down just a little while longer to give herself a chance to wake up, Nixie made her way into the living room with Chloe on her hip. After satisfactory cartoons were found, fruit loops were served, and coffee was had, Nixie went to take a shower and get dressed, while Chloe was allowed to stay in her monkey pajamas.


A little over an hour later, Nixie was putting together a shopping list and Chole, playing with blocks when the doorbell caused Nixie to jump. In this neighborhood people didn't ring doorbells, they called your phone. No one came to your door unless they were selling something, so it put Nixie quite out of her element when she opened the door to see someone who looked more like an actress or model than a salesperson.
 
"Helloo," Her voice cooed, it was lowered but sharp. Nixie was facing her own reflection in the black of a pair of shades lined with white. The woman whom both the shades and voice belonged to stood above her on heels, draped with silk white blouse. Her face smooth and pale and as she grinned , her teeth unnaturally white, one could see under the morning sun lines forming around the corner of her red stained lips, in the foundation that caked her skin. Her hair was golden, wavy and falling in curls around her neck, perfectly shaped by hairspray and the smell of perfume wafted from her shoulders. She was small-framed but she held herself stiffly, her movements already cold and controlled as she put her hand to her collarbone, a diamond ring on her finger, her nails painted scarlet.


Behind her was a man whose appearance had a stark contrast to hers. He was large in stature, standing just a few inches taller than his partner, his hair trimmed short and black though he was unshaven, skin weathered and his generally appearing disheveled but otherwise clean. He mimicked her grin, though his appeared hungrier.


"I'm so sorry if it's too early," the woman continued. "We know you must be busy but we really wanted to set some time to introduce ourselves. We just moved down the street, you see."
 
"Oh," Nixie spoke with surprise as she looked up at the two people towering before her. Their appearance made her painfully away of her loose-fitting t-shirt, faded jeans and ponytail. "No, not at all. I was just making a grocery list. Um..." She hesitated. She wasn't used to welcoming people to the neighborhood, nor could she claim to be good at being welcome to people at all. "Well, welcome to the neighborhood, would you like to come in for some coffee." She offered, secretly hoping they would say no.
 
"If it isn't too much of a bother.... Of course. " Without waiting further answers she maneuvered past Nixie without so much as brushing against her. The man behind her followed, but paused directly in front of Nixie, grin still plastered to his face. "My name's Cassandra," Came the woman's voice from within as the woman looked around the room, her gaze lingered on the small child who had a pile of blocks scattered in front of her on the carpeted floor. She briskly removed her sunglasses revealing shapely plucked eyebrows and light eyes. "And that's my husband Nate..." She turned on her heels to face the doorway again.


"How y'do, Ma'am? " He had an accent. Potentially Texan to those who'd recognize it. He put his hand out, the back of which was covered in coarse curly hair.
 
"Nice to meet you," Nixie said with a forced smile as she shook the mans hand before closing the door behind them. "I'm Nixie, and that's my daughter Chloe. You two can make yourselves at home, I'm gonna go make that coffee..."


Chloe glanced up at the new people but was too caught up in her game of stacking blocks and having Wolf knock them over.


Nixie came back into the room a moment later, so, when did you move in? I didn't even realize there was a house for sale in the neighborhood."
 
Cassandra delicately waggled her little fingers at the little girl, and Nate grumbled something into her ear. She moved her gaze to Nixie. "Oh just a few weeks ago, it took us some time to really settle down."


"You have a nice place here, Miss." Nate went over and sat down on one of the lounge chairs, his nostrils twitched.


"Very lovely place. We've been trying to introduce ourselves.. Really get involved with the community. Seems like the perfect place to raise a family."
 
"Thank you," Nixie responded to Nate. "I wanted Chloe to grow up somewhere calm and this has been perfect for that," she said with an involuntary glance over at her child. She shifted he attention to Cassandra, trying to listen for her coffee pot "Do you have any kids?" She asked, "the playground is a pretty good place to meet people here if you do."
 
She sat down next to Nate and crossed her legs. "Oh, no but we're..." She glanced up at Nate and they shared a smile. "We've been trying."


"Big part of the reason that we moved here is to potentially start a family...." Nate looked back over to the kid. "So where's her father? At work?"


Cassandra's lips twitch and she cleared her throat, her body stiffening even more. She put her hand around her husband's waist and Nate jumped in his seat. "If you don't mind me askin', that is!" He added rapidly.
 
"Oh, not at all, it's something I get asked a lot" Nixie said, turning her glance to the floor. It was a true that she'd been asked that question many times since her move, so naturally she had perfected her story since then. "My husband passed away not long before we moved here. He was deployed while I was still pregnant, I got the news a week before Chloe was born," she spoke quietly, and when she looked back up to face them it was with the same glassy eyes that had saved her from a speeding ticket earlier in the week.
 
"Oh! Oh my!" She put her hand to her mouth and she mover her other hand from behind Nate and gripped on to his sleeve. " We're so... so sorry. I'm sorry we didn't mean- My sincerest condolences..."


Nate's smile stayed unwavered, until Cassandra squeezed his arm, his lips pursed and he lowered his head. " I'm so sorry, Ma'am that was very rude of me. It must be so rough...for you and little Chloe."
 
"It's alright," Nixie answered solemnly. She watched Nate's movements as she spoke, something about him was unsettling but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "I'd rather you know than wonder, really. It was hard at first but I've adjusted. And Chloe really doesn't know any different so it hasn't been bad for her." An interrupting beep from the kitchen signaled the coffee was done. "I'd better get that, how do you take your coffee?"
 
"None for me thanks. I can't stand the stuff, myself." Nate put a hand up to her.


"Black for me, thank you... Although." She looked back at Chloe and raised and raised a sharp angular eyebrow. "We may be leaving fairly soon. "
 
Nixie gave a nod and went back to the kitchen to fix the coffee for herself and Cassandra while mumbling to herself about pretention and nerve and wondering what their reaction would have been had she told them her casual boyfriend was actually murdered by her best friend because they were in rival gangs. A moment later she was back with the coffee.
 
When Nixie returned, Cassandra was glaring at Nate, however Nate was keeping an eye intent on Chloe. She looked up and her face returned back to her original mein, the smile taking place and she reached up for the coffee. "Thank you!"


Nate stood up with a grunt. "Where's the bathroom, miss?"
 
"Down the hall, second door to the right," Nixie told him, her voice coming out a little harsher than she intended after seeing the man staring at daughter. She moved to the couch and sat down to drink her own coffee, keeping her eyes on Chloe, beginning to fear that her new neighbors might have sinister intentions.
 
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Cassandra saw her eye the child and grinned at Nixie, locking her gaze into her eyes, her smile all pearly white teeth and gums. "Sorry about Nate.... He's...- He can be rather gruff." She brushed her hair behind her ears. "Not very tactful, but he's a good man." She looked up at the walls around her. "So how long have you lived her? If I may be so bold..."


Nate absorbed everything as he left the room, pausing in the hallway. He stepped more softly now, arching his shoulders as he paused at every door, nudging them open just enough to peer inside, and committing each room to memory.
 
"A few of years," Nixie responded without acknowledging Nate's "tactlessness". At this point she was getting very uncomfortable having these people her home. She'd seen one too many Lifetime movies about childless couple kidnapping their neighbors children to be entirely comfortable with Nate's disposition. Not to mention the other, not-so-normal reasons she had for distrust these days. "So, what do you do for a living? If I may be so bold?" She asked with a slight smirk, her tone unintentionally mocking. If they were going to interview her, she thought she might as well see if they checked out as normal people.
 
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"I work as an editor for the magazine... Charm? Have you heard of it? It's mostly fashion. Not quite as prestigious as Vogue or Glamour. Nate's father owns a sawmill, however, up in Texas. What's your line of work?"
 
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"Oh, that's nice," Nixie spoke, trying to sounds sincere. "I'm a legal assistant, not quite as exciting as your job I'm sure, but it pays the bills." She looked back to Chloe once more, worried something might happen if she took her eyes off the child for too long.
 
"It must be hard.... working as a single mother... You don't get much of a break do you?"


Nate stood in the child's bedroom, his eyes scanning the windows in her room, absorbing each crack in the wall. He went over and lifted a small sock , and chuckled as he inhaled its scent. He stuffed the toy in his back pocket and headed towards the bathroom.
 
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"I make it work. It's worth it to give Chloe a good life," Nixie spoke as she looked back up at the woman, a soft smile spread across her lips.
 

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