Shadowborn Luna

CLAIRE

"What do you mean, James?" I scowl up at my co-worker turn friend smiling down at me. "Come on, Claire," he whines, "You don't do anything fun, you just stay locked up in that room of yours and bury your head in your books." I mean, he's not entirely wrong, but I wouldn't admit it to James. Since I broke up with my ex, I sort of crawled into my shell. I found out the idiot had been cheating on me with someone I considered a friend. The betrayal had sent me over the edge. I couldn't trust anyone.

But James isn't letting this go. He's giving me his cutest lost puppy look. And even I can't resist the charm. "Whatever," I roll my eyes and flash a smile. "Yes!" James pumps his hand. "Honey, it is time. Like a phoenix, you'll be reborn from the ashes, you'll come out whole and new." He's being overly dramatic, staring off into space and making his voice amplified. A theatre arts major at Cal U, James would seize any opportunity to stage a play.

It's half past six in the evening when we reach the club. For some reason, the disco lights make me dizzy. For some reason, the air is charged. I feel an overwhelming, suffocating energy, like something ancient brushing against my soul. I'm pressed against writhing bodies and the music gives me a headache. I hate it here immediately. But for James's sake, I promise to stay a while before leaving. "You sure you'll be okay, baby girl," he kisses my cheek, looking apologetic. "It's fine James," I say, swatting my hand at him. "You go and have fun. And I'll be right at the bar."

"Are you sure?" he insists. My smile is genuine this time. His guilt is punishment enough. Alone with my drink at the bar, I flip through the pages of my life. The last couple of days have been rough. My sister was sent into foster care last week. They had caught our mother with drugs. Apparently, the arrest came on a tip. With my mother in prison and my sister in a stranger's house. I'm torn apart.

I'm not making enough money in my part-time job. And my studies are beginning to suffer. Luke's betrayal was the last thing I needed. "Bring it coming," I say to the bartender mixing drinks for other patrons. He supplies gin after gin. Soon, my head begins to spin. I look for James amidst the throng of bodies jiving to the beat. Shit. I can't find him anywhere. That's it. I have to puke. Staggering to my feet, I squeeze my way past the crowded room.

A hand grabs my arm, pulling me into the crowd. I flail, struggling against the grip. "Let me go!" I yell but it's lost in the noise. Somehow, miraculously, I'm able to wrench myself free. Cool air hits my face outside. I don't even realize I'm crying till I taste my salty tears. In a rush, I throw up the contents in my stomach. Cursing my foolishness, I lean against the wall.

Fuck, I left my belongings in the club. Now I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere. My phone is in that purse and I can't even contact James to pick me up. Just what I get for throwing caution to the wind. Damn James. But this is the least of my problems. My head is still foggy but I can tell it's not safe where I'm staying. I took the back entrance out of the club, and the lights here aren't all working. Shadows are lurking around me. I can feel things moving in the dark. Something is wrong.

A handful of people wander here and move the hell on. It's like a feeling that crept into the subconscious, ringing all the warning bells that something isn't right. I know, I'm supposed to run back into the club, even if it meant choking on all those people's stench. Ugh. I don't what's been happening to me lately, my sense of smell has greatly heightened. First, it was the rat I discovered in our ceiling that had been dead for days. James had looked at me oddly after that. But I passed it off as an intuitive feeling. Something silly I made up to hide the truth. If James could see through my fib, he didn't say.

I begin to hear noises in the distance. Curious, I abandon going into the club. My heart is beating hard and my palms are sweating. I shouldn't be out here let alone walk further away. There are abandoned cars littering the alley. I step on broken glass, probably a beer bottle and the crunch echoes. My breathing sounds too loud. My footsteps are too rough. Why is it suddenly quiet?

I come to a clearing, surprised by the fog blurring my gaze. Where did it come from? Now, I'm afraid. I guess I had walked here willingly because I was at the edge of a cliff, why not fall, I thought. My life is in shambles and I have nothing to lose. But that feeling is leaving me and I cannot help but think I have made a grave mistake, especially when I see shapes materializing in the fog. One moment it's there and the next it's gone.

Noises cry to me. Hooting calls and once, the sound of a human laugh. It felt cruel. I turn, wanting to go back the way I came. But I can't find the path. Blindly, terrified out of my wits, I begin to run. Someone or something chases after me. I scream into the fog, lost in the dark. I trip over my feet, landing hard on the ground.

My body is bruised. And I feel blood oozing from the cut on my arm. I moan in pain, dragging myself to keep moving. "So pitiful," I hear on the wind, coming from all directions. "Weak as a lamb." The voice says before morphing into a shape. Slowly, it stalks me, watching me, becoming clearer with each step it takes closer. The figure is covered in black. Black hair falling g against its face. Black boots planted next to my face. It sinks to the ground before me.

When I gaze into his hell-fire eyes, my scream is swallowed into the void.