Under the Moon

Story by Ashley

[Editor’s note: this tale takes place between the events of BOOK II, Story 1, Chapter 2, part 2: “The Sisterhood” and part 3: “Rose Bloom.”]

Nightmare 1 - Shifting Blame

The sisterhood’s ritual of initiation was overwhelming to each and every sensation, blinding pleasure, pain, and the blinding aquamarine light I was immersed in as I was levitated into the air by this spiritual magic. It branded me with tattoos: long bands and wolven beings I do and do not recognize. It was all too fast for me to really examine them and too much for my body to remain conscious.

It was only dark for a moment, then my eyes fluttered open to a window framing a full moon, emblazoned with the same aquamarine light I had just been bathed in, and cradled underneath dead tree branches. As I took in my surroundings, the light faded into a pale, more natural blue, but I was shocked to see I had awoken in my childhood bedroom atop my old bunk bed. 

The blue light barely illuminated the space, blending in warm orange light from underneath the bedroom door and a dim red light from a lava lamp positioned on my desk. Wrapped in the comfort of my bed that had kept me safe for nearly ten years, I gazed down at my old things. A dreamcatcher tied to my headboard, books about various animals laid all over my desk, and old journals full of sketches of dogs, wolves, cats, bears… really anything I thought was warm and fluffy.

Then, on the far side of the room, there were my roommates’ things, or— my brother’s things. Middle school varsity trophies for his adventures in football, magazines about guns or near-naked women, sports equipment, and a handful of BB guns. I never really thought of how much more they loved James before that night happened. I always thought it was all my fault they put me back in the system.

Then I heard the floorboards creak in a meek whimper just below me and the whine of our bunk bed’s ladder as a heavy set of feet clambered up towards me. James peeked his head over and smiled when he saw I was awake.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked as he pulled himself up to the headboard, almost dwarfing me in size with his extra few years.

“I, uhm, I had a nightmare.”

“What about?”

“I can’t really remember anything other than something hurting me, it’s all blank.”

My voice came out so small and smooth, and I couldn’t help but be jealous of my ten-year-old self. I was still very effeminate back then, enough to where I’d often be mistaken for a girl. It always made me smile.

“Maybe it’s good you can’t remember?”

“Maybe.”

As I spoke, I realized I wasn’t actually in control of this moment. This was a memory, and I’m just riding from an old set of eyes. I didn’t even have a moment to think of what memory this was as James yanked my sketchbook from underneath my pillow and pulled me over his lap.

“How about you show me what you’ve been putting on paper? Just like when we were younger.”

I felt a sense of joy at his interest, but it wasn’t mine; it was my old self’s excitement that James wanted to spend time with me again. I knew better, I remembered what he did, what he was going to do. I was trapped in the cage of a ten-year-old again.

“Really?!? Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

We cracked open the sketchbook and I flipped to a little comic I had finished a few days earlier. Full of childlike wonder, I started aimlessly rambling about my incoherent plot. I highlighted the protagonist first, a wolf named Tala, who had lost her pack and was on a long journey to meet them again. James was quiet, almost eerily so, his nearly expressionless face being illuminated by the color-shifting moonlight. All the light in the room inverted into a pale rose.

“Rose…?” James cut me off before I could finish breaking down how there aren’t alphas in wolf packs.

“Rose? You never call me that.”

“You like it more though, right?”

“It does feel a lot better…”

I recognized the tone of his voice, the firm thing pressing into my back, and all I could do was frantically beg myself to get out of that room, to get away from this monster, to get anywhere else, to get anyone that cared enough to help.

“Can I show you something? Something fun?”

“Mhm!”

The pale, rosy light in the room had suddenly shifted to a bright, blood-red as James pushed me into the mattress by the neck and began pawing at what little clothing I was wearing.

“What are—”

I tried to speak, confused as to what was happening, but James rammed his face into mine and gagged me with his tongue. I could feel his fingers dragging my pants down; they became firmer and sharper, like a set of claws. Then that they were. Claws. Claws, ripping off my clothes and into my soft flesh. James was changing with the moon; even his tongue had lengthened into my throat and skewered barbs into me so I couldn’t fight back. This horrid, slimy creature covered in spikes and claws was defiling me from head to toe. Enjoying every moment. Basking in my terror.

The only silver lining was that he didn’t make his way inside me, as he was interrupted by our door slamming open and our parents rushing in with a blinding, white light. They pulled us away from each other and scolded James for a moment. A bible quote here, a reminder of what would happen if anyone heard there, and not even a moment of real disapproval towards the actual monster that sat in front of them, rolling its many, many eyes in defiance. They yanked me out of bed and towards the living room, dragging my heels across the splintery floorboards, and planted me on the couch for a “talk”. 

When I looked at my first set of parents, they didn’t seem the way I remembered. They wore long, white leather robes with crosses branded into the chest, and they also wore barbed masks that completely obscured their faces. Our once cozy cottage living room had also warped into a stony dungeon lit by torches, and the couch I was seated on had become a chair that restrained me.

“I told you we couldn’t wait for a damn summer camp!”  Father spoke to Mother.

“What else would we do? Pull him out of school and ship him off?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t just let him stay here and influence our boy to sin like we saw in there!”

“I hate it, but you’re right, and you are the man of the house.”

Blame was already being prescribed to the scapegoat. The queer. I just sat there in terror, waiting for what was to happen to me next, as Father rose from his seat and unraveled a long, barbed whip that was buckled onto his waist.

“So first, since we’ve had a moment to cool down, I’ve decided instead of whipping you to sleep, you’ll just get ten whippings instead, and then we’ll take you to someone who can afford to have one of you fairy tempters in their house in the morning.”

I could feel my very essence recoiling, remembering the bruises of the past now altered into eternal wounds. I wanted to beg them not to leave me, to repent for my existence, to will them into loving me as much as I loved them. All I could get out of my mouth were sobs drowned out by tears. Then he raised the whip and lashed me three times in a quick flurry, my blood spattered over my chair and onto the floor. He drew back his arm once more and lashed out yet again. I winced and clamped my eyes shut. A moment passed.  The pain I remembered didn’t come.

There was a black wolf with golden-amber eyes, just like my Tala. She stood between me and my “guardians”, both frozen along with the world in monochrome aquamarine. Father’s whip was splintered in two, barbs flying outwards like shrapnel. The wolf’s eyes, Tala’s, gaze inched towards me. Her amber orbs locked onto me, then aquamarine became darkness.

Nightmare 2 - Everything Everywhere All at Once

I came to, completely immersed in darkness, besides the silvery moon I was floating underneath. I was in a pool, but it wasn’t filled with water. Something was different now. I could move. I reached upwards towards the moon, and to my surprise, the tip of my claw was manipulating it from a distance. The disc of light rotated, beaming different types of light into my vision. I gave it a curious, firm spin, and a barrage of different lights hit me, only it wasn’t just light. The sheer intensity of what I had brought down on myself was enough to conjure imagery of all sorts from my memories.

There were so many bedrooms I had seen while I was in the foster system, so many faux-parents, and even more children my age. It seemed like it was a blend of memories that ranged from after my first home was lost to just before I made it to my last.

It was entirely grotesque, all my homes merging into one vision. I was barreling forward along the rails of my nightmarish adolescence. Dark spaces with furniture that shifted across the room and morphed into various forms, and a mutated mass of flesh that was every parent I’d had except the most wretched ones. Muscles, hair, fat, and clothing merged into an inhuman form that layered impossibly, its skin skewered with countless needles, its nose powdered in a cakey layer of drugs, and its entire form sopping wet with alcohol. The smell was putrid and stale.

The creature simultaneously locked me in closets, locked me in cars, and left me in otherwise dark, cold places. It broke my hand with saliva it spat onto me with the weight of an iron ball. And no one saved me. It was an overload of memories that overlapped and fused and shattered and cut and tore and ripped and scarred and ached. Then the thing disappeared, like they all did eventually. Gone in a fraction of a moment, too quick for me to even realize what I had done wrong. What was wrong with me?

This layer of light was followed by another. This time school instead of home. I fell from the sky towards a towering, winding, mesh of a labyrinth that I vaguely recognized as a mish-mash of various academic monuments to pandemonium I had survived. It was stabilized by an iron, gothic type of architecture. My body crashed through one of these buildings, and I landed on a stone floor, my face submerged in a sticky pool of old, dead blood.

When I rolled over, the first thing I saw was the gaping hole in the ceiling, dust and debris still crumbling away. Yet again, it framed the full moon, this time full of blood-red light that felt laced with rage. When I gave the area a scan, I recognized it as a gymnasium, but the bleachers were blocked off with a chain-link fence. The place was completely dark aside from the red light that came from the moon…
…as well as the countless iridescent red eyes with forms just out of sight, hiding in shadow.

I pulled myself to my feet and noticed just how much control I had in this new realm of my nightmares, like the battles I’d had in the spirit realm before. As the myriad of glowing eyes approached, I lengthened my long nails into claws and shifted my eyes to pierce into shadow. 

I recognized each of the contorted beasts, even in their monstrosity. A gaggle of goons, every meanspirited boy in my 8th grade class that formed a circle to “kick the pussy out of me,” lumbered to the fence and began to climb with claws of their own. These alterations were something I’d fought before. Packs of Fiend war ghouls flashed through my memory, armed with needle-sharp spines of bone, long talons, and acidic saliva.

They threw themselves onto the fence violently, buckling it with the weight of dozens of demonic bullies. They belched corrosive bile to rip holes in what remained of it and came in a tidal wave I knew I had no chance of defeating on my lonesome. The place reeked of a familiar stench, hateful and wrong: testosterone. Horrific, but nonetheless, I quickened my blood and broke their line.

I shot forth to the place I felt they had the least numbers, immediately tearing out one slimy, massive, still-beating heart as I raked my claws across the beast’s partner, emptying its intestines onto the floor, which wriggled like snakes until I rended his throat. 

With my blows dealt, they gave theirs.

A stream of acidic vomit torrented into my back like a fire hose, melting my skin as more than one of the beasts realized I was not to be allowed close. I fell to one knee, and they all gazed at me in unison as they heaved up their caustic fluids to assault me with another volley. I yanked a few spines from those I had dismembered already, then threw them, braining a handful that fell from their perches atop the fence in this gothic-scholastic arena. I felt excellent about my chances until they collected themselves and charged me in a stampede of freakish teenage monsters.

They dogpiled me and pinned each of my limbs to the icy-cold bricks just below me, it was a blur and mountain of unnatural flesh preparing to eviscerate me. Feet planted into my chest and abdomen as they tore into my stomach with their barbed claws, dripping some kind of dark ichor as they ripped out rib after rib, grinding towards my heart. All I could think of was what landed me here, trying to escape the nightmare of my own making.

They want me to be their sister? How did they expect this to go? I’ve never been allowed to be anything close to a woman, and I’ve failed at being a man so clearly I have nightmares about the consequences of it… and this nightmare is going to kill me.

Then I heard growling, not of a freakish ghoul horde, but of a pack of wolves. This pack descended upon the horde, stripping the flesh from their throats as they attacked from the rear. They were brimming with aquamarine light… spirits have come to save me. No, she has.

I saw my Tala once more, this time in a humanoid shape, clawed and amber-eyed. She moved fast, faster than me, and so much stronger. In moments, the horde was nothing but a mist of blood as she moved so fast I couldn’t even perceive her. I lay in awe and agony, then alleviation once Tala left the bloodbath behind to run her familiar talons up the long gash through my torso. The talon left a trail of aquamarine light where my flesh began to crawl back together. The horrific sight was made dreamlike by a comforting, loving feeling that permeated my vitae, but the scars remained. After I was mended, she waved one hand, effortlessly dispersing the mist of blood and her pack both into wisps of light that floated toward the ceiling, growing weaker with each moment until they disappeared completely.

She stood tall above me as I took her form in. Lithe, beautiful, and wild. Long hair with differing tones, auburn and black, almost like the gradient you see in wolves with a bloody taint to it. Before I could speak, she grasped my hand and pulled me to face her at the same height. Looking forward, I could see her eyes, they seemed familiar.

“Thank you. I thought I was about to get shipped straight to hell or wherever.”

“You may have.”

“Do I… know you? Did I maybe invent a big sister?”

“Ha! Maybe. You’ll know in time, but you have to finish this journey before everything is made clear. All I can say is… You saved me, or you will save me. Now, go forth to the next nightmare; I’ll see you near its end.”

Then she ripped open the stone below us into another reality, near-blinding us with the aquamarine light once more. I would’ve asked more or even tried to get her to go with me at the start, but she pushed me into the inter-realm wound before I could get another word out.

Nightmare 3 - Creatures & Their Comforts

I fell forward into a trip over a home’s threshold, then heard a chuckle behind me that chilled me to my core.

“I should’ve warned ya ‘bout the drop there. I ‘oughta fix that soon.”

I knew that voice well, too well. It was my foster father, Jack… an absolute nightmare of a man and father both. Looking over my shoulder, I see him, well-scarred and wearing a prosthetic leg, with an obsessively closely shaven head and a thick, gray beard sitting atop a middle-aged pile of muscle and bitterness.

I pulled myself up to my feet to see the cabin's living room. A tan leather couch, a rocking chair adorned in animal furs, a fireplace with wood already smoldering up the chimney, and a television sat atop a hand-made shelf. The place was polished to an intense shine with a woody, red stain across the cabin.

“I’m good! Didn’t even skin a knee. The place is really nice!”

“Built it myself ‘round five— No, six years ago. Yeah. Laura was just eleven, then.”

“Laura?”

“My daughter, and your roommate. She’ll be home before dinner.”

“Uhm… You want to put me in a room with a girl?”

Jack walked past me after stifling a bit of laughter and plants himself on the couch, pulling out a bottle of whiskey he starts to pour into a glass, then another glass.

“Take a seat there.”

I followed the order, and he slid one glass to my side of the coffee table.

“You’re staying with her 'cause I know what you are. Did my research, and I don’t want a fag sleeping in my room. Only got two, so that’s how it’s going.”

Every part of me stopped, growing just as stagnant as the silence on the air. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t look anywhere but the freshly stained floorboards. I had to look up eventually, meeting Jack’s stony gaze adorned with a grin of utter control over me. I must’ve had a look on my face, too, because his grin just grew wider.

 “Now… Take a drink.”

The icy chill in my spine retook hold as Jack’s smug grin stretched more so, and the fire shifted to a crimson hue as the moon came into view, scarlet and flanked by dark clouds.

I didn’t know how to respond, and I realized again I was just riding my memories here. I didn’t have control. The whiskey glass approached my lips in submission to Jack, bubbling hot like fire. I took a nip, and it burned as it crawled slowly down my throat, corroding my flesh like acid.

“More, sissy boy.”

Then I took a whole gulp and could feel ice and fire burning my insides simultaneously.

“All of it.”

So I slammed the whole drink down my throat. He poured another glass. Made me do it again, “Like a real man.” I lost consciousness and woke up feeling itchy around my neck, along with the smell of something deep and hearty cooking in the kitchen. The moon was a pale blue. I knew the pain was over for now.

I went to scratch my neck and the bottom of my scalp, only to find that my shoulder-length mane had been buzzed clean off. Before I knew it, I was bitterly weeping as quietly as I could as I dug my canines into the sleeve of my shirt. There was also a new voice emanating from the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you buzzed off all of his hair like that, and he hasn’t even been here one damn night!”

“Language, missy. ‘Sides, he got a treat first.”

“Enough Wild Turkey to knock you on your alcoholic ass isn’t a treat, Dad.”

“I’ll get the soap, I don’t give a shit if you’re seventeen now. You’re still mine. And you’ll listen when I tell you somethin’. I gotta break that boy hard. They already sent his ass to a camp, but just one look at ‘em and you know somethin’ just ain’t right. Not as easy as it was fixin’ you.”

“Dad… don’t you have an obsession with Kurt Russel? That guy’s hair is even longer than Vincent’s.”

“But it looks queer on… our queer.”

“Can he help that?”

“...”

“How about you let me toughen him up some? Take him to the gym and throw him around a bit. We both know how many fights he gets into; it’ll be good for everybody.”

“Shit…”

That silence of stagnation filtered back into the room, textured by the off-beat tapping of Jack’s heavier boot layered underneath his deliberating grunts.

 “Fine.”

I’d finished choking back my tears before either of them could get into the space. When I heard the thud of Jack's boots, I instinctively shut my eyes as my chest filled with dread. I played dead while Laura and Jack quietly had dinner over an action movie. I didn't even peek to see what was on. I just listened desperately through the crude jokes and explosions, waiting for Jack to make his way to bed.

Once a comforting silence filled the room, I opened my eyes to see a pair of soft, gray-hazel eyes looking down at me, deeply concerned and lit up with the aquamarine glow of a comforting moon.

”I'm so sorry,” she whispered next to me.

”It's fine. I've had worse.”

”It's not fine. Don't make excuses for him.”

”I'm sorry…”

”Don't be. You have nothing to apologize for.”

”Right. Yeah... Thanks. I'm sorry he's putting me in your room. I-I can sleep in here and—”

”It's fine. I've already got the room set up for it anyway. I used to have a little home gym on one side of the room. Now there's a bed and a dresser there for you, and a curtain so we can stay private.”

As she spoke, she slipped around the rocking chair and sat on the arm of the couch just across from me. She leaned forward and put a warm hand on my wrist. I couldn’t help but reflect her comforting smile and dribble out yet another apology.

“Sorry you lost the space…”

“It's alright, I like to go out for combat sports classes nowadays anyway. Which you're going with me tomorrow actually, prescribed straight from Daddy. You should probably eat.”

“I heard. You're right, though. And thanks for making dinner, if there's any left anyway.”

“So… you heard that whole conversation?”

She glanced to one side for a moment, then to the other side, biting her inner cheek in a brief moment of embarrassment.

“Yeah…”

“I didn't mean to say you need to be changed… It's okay if you like boys. Though, don’t expect it to be something we can bond over. They're not really my thing.”

“I… actually don't really like them all that much. I just used to look more like a girl, and sometimes guys would get a bit too… affectionate. It always somehow ended up being my fault.”

My gaze and mind trailed off into flashes of James, then to more than one boy that came after him, never able to control themselves. It was never as bad as the first one. The cycle of attraction, then realization of what I am, always played out the same way with them. Arousal, fear, curiosity, then hate, all in the span of one meeting.

“I guess you do look pretty effeminate. No offense! I bet the long hair really suited you.”

“Thanks. It's gonna take so long to grow it out again. Ugh!”

“I'm excited to see it!”

Laura’s hand latched onto mine. There was an awkward moment before she pulled me out of the seat I’d spent nearly six hours cowering in. She nodded towards the couch and table, like an order. There were so many orders in this house, but hers were okay.

“Now, eat your dinner before I start force-feeding you.”

“Yes, ma'am…”

The rest of the night passed very peacefully. I had a warm, satisfying meal while Laura and I swapped stories from gay camp, and then we both fell asleep on the couch watching rom-coms deep into the AM. I woke up blinded and gagged by the long blonde locks of Laura's hair, much to our embarrassment. 

After we finished laughing and cleaning up, my vision began flickering again as my memories fast-forwarded. Long days of high school blues, walking on eggshells around Jack, passing his tests of masculinity —Gulping down whiskey, hunting, and camping— and getting my ass handed to me by Laura all bled together until 6 months had passed into the beginning of Summer break.

Time’s passage slowed back to normal in our high school gym, I was standing, looking in the mirror in a tank and some shorts. It felt wrong. My hips were wide, and I didn't mind it at all, but my newly built muscles felt so mismatched with the almost girly frame I had. Fortunately, my hair had grown back into the long, fluffy, black mess I was used to, and I could finally stand to look in the mirror for at least a little while, as long as I didn't linger too long on my upper body, anyway.

“Always the vain one,” Laura said as she popped into the frame of the mirror with a grin, bumping her hips into mine.

I paused for a moment, looking at us next to each other, and a thought I had forgotten for years emerged. 

Why can't I look more like her? I want her curves, her chest, her long hair, her soft skin… What the fuck is wrong with me?

The me riding this memory knew what came next. I felt sick, full of guilt, ashamed of something I'd buried for over a decade. My trance locked onto her legs was interrupted by a swift elbow into my side.

“Don't look at me like that!”

“Fuck! Mmmgh… I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… I'll be better.”

“Good boy. You've earned a mixed sparring session today. Get your gloves on.”

I was embarrassed, for more than one reason, and a bit shocked at what ran through my head. So I decided I'd need to really focus on the work we're putting in, and I geared up for the kind of session that usually left me sore for a week.

The first round of our three-round sparring session started with Laura immediately going in to punish me for my wandering eyes. She gets close to me and pelts me with jabs to the body first thing, then follows up with a sidekick as I struggle to fend off her fists. Seeing that she's focused on striking, I keep up my guard till she throws another kick my way, and I throw her onto the mat, pinning her to the ground and taking the first point.

”So worth it for that kick. I'm still gonna win, though. I wasn't really trying. Just wanted to hit you as hard as I could at least once.”

“I definitely deserved it, but I'm not making it easy today.”

“Hehe. Good luck, pretty boy.”

I was wrong. The win got my ego up, and I didn't even throw one punch before Laura tackled me onto the ground. I landed a few hits on the ground to her side, but she quickly locked down all my limbs into a pin.

She took that point, and we didn't even banter before the next round. She just grinned and rehydrated while I caught my breath.

The next round started and ran much slower. We were both watching each other's movements down to the finest detail. Moving forward, pulling back, then moving forward again in a little dance of chicken. That is, till she rushed in to steal a few jabs, and I landed a kick on her guard. She pulled back for a moment and then went for another tackle, but I was ready this time. I caught her halfway through the maneuver, flipping her onto the mat and then straddling her chest. She hit me in the face and body a few times as I struggled to push her into a pin, making eye contact the whole time. It seemed to last forever. 

She eventually reversed the mount, but I muscled my way back on top. I was getting tired, and I knew she had a lot more in the tank than I did to start. But… something unfathomable happened; her face softened a bit after I had pinned one of her arms… and she gave up. She'd never done that before. Laura didn’t give up. It’s not who she was. It wasn’t in her. It was the furthest thing from her. Usually, she'd keep fighting even when it was obvious I'd won, rarely as I did, but she just… let… me pin her. She went still after I did, just staring into my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah… just feel a little weird is all. Can we stop for a sec?”

“Sure, yeah.”

I pulled myself up and started to peel my gloves off. Laura sprang up just after.

“Let's skip cardio and grab food, I'm ready to go home.”

“You're sure you're fine?”

This was weird. Hella weird. Most nights, she’d have me running till I couldn’t move anymore. We never went home till well past sundown, let alone an hour in.

“Yes, I'm fine. Don't ask again, idiot... I just want to get dinner and go home with you.”

“Laura, I know I've never won before, but it's not like I'm better than you. I'm just bigger, and you threw the first round anyway.”

“I know, Rosie. I just got in my head is all. Sorry for going so hard on you.”

“No, you're good. I can take—”

She interrupted me with a sweaty hug that I almost thought was going to be a throw, but she just held on awhile, longer than I was used to.

“Right… I'm guessing you're in the mood for something from the diner?”

We packed up and grabbed some burgers and milkshakes on the way home, something we usually only did once a month, but it seemed like Laura needed a pick-me-up. She was oddly quiet on the drive home and hopped into the shower in a hurry after we finished our food.

After my turn in the shower, I hopped into bed and stared at the ceiling. Laura was shuffling around on the opposite side of the curtain, singing along with some soft rock playing on her stereo that Jack would be throwing a fit over if he wasn't on a week-long fishing trip. I just laid there as my muscles loosened up and rested my eyes a bit while being serenaded.

Weirdest thought I've ever had about a crush. I want to be like her? Like…

“Rose.”

“Aah-Fuck! I mean— Hi.”

My eyes fluttered open and Laura's side of the room had been turned upside down, with what seemed like her whole closet emptied out on her bed. She was also wearing a crop top and some denim shorts. The moon was beaming a soft, soothing pink light into our bedroom.

“Woah. You're jumpy.”

“I was just… stuck in my head. Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh… no. I just wanted to look pretty is all.”

“Oh, well it's working. I mean, you're always pretty, but—”

“Thanks! I had a fun idea for how you could pay me back for earlier, though!”

“Don't you think you hurt me enough?”

“No, I don't want to fight you or anything like that. I just want to hurt your dignity,” Laura said with a sly grin.

“Ugh. I'll do it. I really didn't mean to be weird like that, but I'll do whatever you want to make up for it.”

“Whatever I want?”

“... probably?”

“Good.”

She pulled me out of bed, walked me over to her desk, and then sat me in her chair. She then started pulling boxes out of her desk I didn't recognize and opened them up to reveal an old collection of makeup. I knew what was about to happen, but all I could do was sit there while she started working on my face in complete silence. I think it was half an hour before she finished up. She had a huge grin on her face. 

“Almost done, just lips and eyes left.”

“... you don't want me to go out in this, right?”

“Nope, this is for my eyes only. I… don't think anyone would question it, though. You make a pretty girl~”

I'm pretty?!?

I couldn't help but smile, and then frown immediately as it happened in reaction. I felt that sick feeling again, like something was deeply wrong with me. I felt it in my memory and in my present self.

“You're allowed to smile. Now smile for me again, pretty flower~”

I couldn't help but listen to her and smile, but my present self quickly felt a pang of loneliness. It was an odd blend of bittersweet feelings.

“Good. We'll get to the last part soon.”

What else does she want?

She finished touching me up, carefully applying some classy red lipstick that made my lips tingle, and then some gentle brushes of dark eyeshadow.

“You can't look yet! One more thing~”

I nodded along, just letting her do whatever she wanted with me. She grabbed a short, red dress and laid it down on her bed.

“I think you know what to do next.”

At this point, I was frozen like a deer in headlights but also trembling with exhilaration. I slowly approached the dress like it might bare fangs at me if I wasn’t careful. Once I made it to the bed, I just stared at it for a bit. It looked soft and silky and had gold flowers embroidered all over. It looked like it was meant to be wrapped around me.

“Maybe you don't, actually. You have to take off your clothes to change into new ones,” Laura said with a chuckle.

“I know! It's just— scary.” 

“It's just a dress.”

“I know. It's just…”

“Do you need help?”

“Uhm…”

She walked up behind me and then yanked down everything I had on below the waist while I pulled off my shirt just to get it over with as quickly as possible. I couldn't help but notice her hands lingering on my hips while I struggled to position the dress. It slid on much easier than expected after it got over my head, and it held my hips tighter than Laura just had.

“Woah~ Roses for a Rose, cute~ Let me fix your hair, then we'll step into the mirror.”

She played with my hair for a while, parting it so my face could peek out, but also running her hands through it just for the sake of it. Then she led me by the hand to the mirror, and what I saw was overwhelming.

I looked like a girl. One of the most beautiful girls I'd seen. And another pretty girl was peeking over my shoulder, watching my face intently, but also letting her gaze slide lower. Then a few tears started dribbling down my cheek. Fear struck Laura's face as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled my gaze away from the mirror.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry— Please don't hate me! I'm sorry for being a pervert. I'm sorry! You can—”

I put her panicked apologies to a halt as I returned the embrace, sliding a hand up her back and into her hair. My fingers gently pressed into her fluffy locks as she took comfort pressing her face into my chest… she almost went limp in my arms.

“I'm… I'm not crying because I'm sad. It feels… good. I feel… pretty. I like it. And why would you say that?!? I could never hate you, idiot~ You're my best friend.”

She looked up at me from my chest where her face was buried with the most bashful look I'd ever seen on her and eeked out a few more words.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please…?”

But she did a bit more than that. She grabbed my hips, lifted me off the ground, and slammed me into her mattress, digging her nails into my thighs and her hips into mine.

“You're so cute~ Can you be a good girl and close your eyes for me~?”

I'm pretty sure my face was more red than it'd ever been or would be again, but I did… whatever she wanted. She kissed me, then kissed me again, beginning to make a trail downward, and then… well, it's obvious what happens after two teenagers start making out, while home alone.

My memories began to speed ahead again, a blur of a Summer fling that no one would ever know about but us two. Hearing her voice whisper everything I could ever have hoped for layered on top.

Gorgeous.

Pretty girl.

Angel.

Girlfriend.

I love you.

Then it all snapped back into place. We were on the hike in the Shenandoah, my favorite place in the world. It had been our secret little spot. We even cut the trail out ourselves over our first real date. The moon was full and deeply yellowed, mocking me, being cradled by the trees hanging above us. Underneath it, in my sight, Laura had walked ahead and kicked a rock or two up the trail before turning around. I tried to close the distance. I wanted to kiss her as we reached our special spot. I’d always been the clingy type, but she stepped back again and spoke up.

“So, I've been thinking about our plan a lot lately…”

“Didn't we already talk through this? You don't have to take a gap year just to stay with me, babe. I can hold out a year just fine. It's as easy as a phone call!”

“That's not what I mean… I've been questioning the whole thing.”

“Oh, like going all the way to Cali or—”

“Us.”

“...What about us?”

“I… I want to see other people.”

I was immediately shocked numb into silence. Tears began welling up in my eyes.

“I said it when we met… I don't like men. I'm never going to be happy with a man, with you. Sure, it's good sometimes, but you're just not what I want. Not when I can date real women.”

At this point, I was trying and failing to fight back my tears. I fell backwards, like I’d just been shot, sliding down a tree as I choked, swallowing over and over again as tears drenched my whole face. I looked back up at her, my only comfort, wishing, needing, hoping beyond hope that she would say something to make it all better. 

“Ro— Vincent… I know it hurts. You're a really sweet… man. If I was willing to stay with a man the rest of my life, you would be him. I do love you… I just don't love you like that. Like I would a woman. You were a great substitute for the real thing, but I have to face reality. I'm just not attracted to men, and you're a man. Nothing can change that.”

She just turned and walked down the path… while I kept crying, like all the time we’d spent together meant nothing at all. She only stopped to wrench a piece of bark from the largest tree on the trail. We’d marked it up with a knife, carving an L+R into it. It left the Shenandoah with her. We left with her. Along with any shred of self-respect, love, or even comfort I had felt. She had given it to me, and she could steal it away. Shatter it. Crush it. Burn it. Till nothing remained but ashes on the wind. I never saw her again after that, she took a road trip to her university just so she wouldn't have to wait around with me for the next few weeks before the start of the semester.

I'd never felt more empty, more clueless, more… stupid. I still haven’t. It was like my body was disconnected and floating just above me. It didn't feel real, I didn't feel real. I knew it was, though, and to this day, I still cry when I think of her. That is, till I smoke enough to not feel anymore, but it always comes back eventually.

Facing Reality

After what felt like hours of tears where my eyes were shut and I laid, listening to the Shenandoah, the place closest to my heart, I opened my eyes. And my little slice of love was transformed, twisted, distorted. The yellowed moon was several times larger, and now a crimson red that dripped fluorescent blood onto the horizon; each star had been replaced with a cold, ever-watching eye; the trees towered above me, thick as skyscrapers, dwarfing even the largest of redwoods; all the sounds of the Shenandoah were gone, replaced by unnatural, hateful growls and gargles; and the whole forest smelled like a mass grave. The air itself felt heavy with the scent of… testosterone. It was thick enough to choke on. I looked down to find myself naked, but with all my faculties and strengths back in my hands, and wandered forth into the Forest of Nightmares.

Each step felt heavy, disorienting, like trying to walk under thirty feet of water drunk. The sluggish pace was even more demoralizing, considering that I was closer to the size of a squirrel than a Cainite in this place. I still trudged on, and time began to feel strange. I’d blink and be in a new place. Had I lost my memory? Or been moved against my will? 

This went on for what felt like an age until my belly was growling even louder than the putrid squeals of whatever creatures called the forest home. Then, my beast started to help my legs move, my eyes stay open, and my will strong. I was making good ground but getting more desperately hungry by the second. I opened my senses to the wind and smelled something vaguely familiar, a bear…? No. Certainly not a bear.

With the smell of this not-ursine blood on the air, I bolted towards my prey, running on all fours, leaping over spiked chasms, and scaling gargantuan bushes with thorns that’d make razor-wire blush. When I started to close on it, I also smelled a river of some sort, like it was full of waste or had gone stagnant. I quickly found it, a sickly yellow stream full of bones, flesh, and trash.

I then strode beside the stream as quickly as I could manage, quickening my blood into the speed of a car to cross as much ground as possible. Then I was snagged by the nape of my neck and jerked to a stop.

“Careful.”

I jumped back from the source of the noise. The woman who’d saved me from the horde of Fiend-beasts had appeared once more, but this time, I wasn’t getting ripped apart. 

“Fuck! Christ, I’m glad it’s you and not… whatever I’m hearing… and smelling. Ugh.”

“You as well. Now, you’re on the right track with where you’re going, but I’m going with you.”

“Nice, then we can get running! I’m starved.”

“I know, but I’m also leading here. You’re too hungry to think straight.”

“But it’s the only thing keeping me moving…”

“Yes, the beast is a gift, surely, but you are much more than your beast. Your spirit, honed from what was once human, is just as valuable, even on a hunt.”

“Riiiiight. Well, lead on, oh wise wolf-lady.”

She started at a pace just a bit slower than what I had been using, enough to where our heads stayed on a swivel, and we couldn’t be ambushed. I lost count how long we’d been going for until I broke the silence.

“Why exactly is all of this happening?”

“It’s hard to explain without giving too much away, but… you’re facing reality.”

“Dude, Reality?”

“I’m not a 'dude, ’ but you must know on some level that reality isn’t as binary as you think.”

“Sorry? I guess I’ll have to trust you, but all of this hurts like it’s real…”

Not long after, the wolf-woman stopped and got low, then pointed a taloned finger through the trees.

“We’re not even a mile within the not-bear, why are we stopping?”

“Look.”

So I peered forward, sharpening my eyesight to see what her talon was pointing toward. It was the not-bear, and it fit this tainted forest completely. Three-headed, with a third eye on each of them, the central head crowned with bony, thorn-like protrusions. The beast stood taller than the clouds, cradled in roots that reached up from the earth.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“We’re going to fuck that thing up.”

“You’re insane, a lunatic even.”

“Yep,” she eyed me, stifling a chuckle.

“Why’re you laughing!? You’re trying to feed me to Cerberus’s roided-up stepdad…”

“No, I want you to kill a Great Beast. It’s a long-standing tradition, believe it or not. If a dusty old Gangrel can slay a dragon, why can’t we kill… Urserus? Yeah, I like that name.”

“Insane.”

“Mhm.”

“... how are we going to do it?”

“We can weave this realm. Like a spider or a painter… or a dreamer.”

“I-I’ll try….”

“Just use your imagination. Use your will and imagination to reshape this reality. Like this.”

The wolf-woman waved a hand, and light glowed within her, displaying a full body of tattoos, all in aquamarine light. A bright green caterpillar materialized on the back of her hand. It inched along the side, crawling up her finger until it made its way into the palm of her hand. She closed it, and when she opened it again, there was a small chrysalis contained within. She passed it to her other hand, and closed it around the chrysalis. She opened her hand and let free a beautiful butterfly. It fluttered a few times before it disintegrated peacefully into wisps of light it all had in the gymnasium.

“Woah...”

“Woah, indeed, pup. Trust me; you can do this.”

“I want to believe you. But what if I can’t?”

“You can.”

She took off without even a moment more, and I struggled to keep pace with her, like she was showing that she was holding back for me. Before long, we encountered a wide path that was well traveled by something of unfathomable size, Urserus. In front of us lie mountains, carved in the center, forging a valley, and behind us now, the river that I knew would consume me. I was almost horrified when the wolf-woman let out an ear-splitting whistle.

The earth began shaking as Urserus started its gallop towards us. Trees comparable to skyscrapers fell in the distance. The monster roared so omnipotently I could feel the vibration in the marrow of my bones. All of this while the insane wolf-woman stood by me with a smile.

“Damn, at least it’ll be a legendary way to die.”

“Now you’re thinking like a Valkyrie! But you won’t die! I won’t let you! Stand your ground, and this mockery will fall!”

Then, Urserus came into the view of the naked eye. I planted my feet. The Great Beast surged forth with a sickly wine-colored foam dripping from each maw, branding the land like pillars of fire, like waterfalls of rot eroding away the soul of the Shenandoah. It roared once more; the three hellish horns blared in unison, threatening to bring about an end to all, and blood trickled from my ears. Then the third eye of each head’s forehead glowed with a black light.

“It’s starting!”

Each eye beamed a solid black light, a shaft of all-consuming blackness that threatened to erase our very being. It dragged up the terrain, ripping the forest asunder before it reached us, and then wolf-woman raised both her hands, projecting a shield of aquamarine light in front of us. The outer darkness burned against it, slowly carving through, an inverted god-ray of unfettered entropy.

“Rip it apart, Rose! This Forest is yours! Use your power! Use your will!”

She was right. This blighted creature, imagined or not, was ripping apart my domain. Tainting my domain. Disfiguring my domain. My power had always been my rage, and my rage grows brighter with the moon.

I reached towards the tainted moon, the lustrous Luna obscured by a wrathful will. I reached with my talons, my spirit, and my beast. With one claw, I tore away the veneer of impure, domineering blood, and with the other, I drew her light,  bringing it down in the form of a three-taloned claw that burned blue, each rending a head from the beast. Urserus, the false god, crashed over several long moments to the earth, and a deep silence took the forest for a moment, only to be interrupted by an implosion of all the energy this Beast had taken from the Shenandoah.

The blast’s concussive force knocked both me and the wolf-woman back into the river. It didn’t consume me, and when I surfaced, I saw the Shenandoah pure again. The stars and moon gazed down at me, and the scars that the beast had made were healed, but I didn’t see her.

Panicked, I dove deep into the river, deeper than it should’ve gone. I swam until no light could be found, and then I thought to use the moonlight. With a wave of my hand, floating wisps appeared, encircling me and revealing the wolf-woman. Only now, she was also made of moonlight.

“You took your time.”

“How in the hell are you talking!? How the hell am I talking?”

“This isn’t the world you’re used to, Rose.”

“You’re right, as always… and you’re all… glowy.”

“Well yes, people have said we have a glow about us since.”

“Us? Who are you?”

She deflected my question with a smile, reaching out towards me with an upturned palm.

“Take my hand. It’s made of your light, after all.”

“Thank you for saving me,” We said in unison.

Our hands clasped each other's in a perfect mime, and the world vanished in the moonlight, all in one moment.

My eyes shot open in the dark, seeing a familiar cave ceiling, but something was unfamiliar about it. The light felt new. The world seemed brighter, more colorful, more whimsical. Then there was this bone-gnawing ache all over my body, a weight on my chest, and something raising my hips. Everything felt like it had changed.

Then I looked down… and saw my expertly sewn tunic had two hills with a valley between them. I felt them only to find that it was me, and then I looked underneath my tunic. Panic immediately hit me as I realized I had breasts, and then an odd buzzing in my chest… joy. All my insides were still burning from the Sisterhood’s crucible, but I truly couldn’t have cared less.

I hopped up, almost falling on my face as I started getting my bearings with this new form. It felt hard to maneuver at first, but oddly intuitive. It felt right. I felt alive… even as a dead girl, more than I ever did with a beating heart.