Moon Worshippers

“I just think ’s dumb, that all.”

“You’re dumb.”

“Your mom’s dumb!”

“Shut up? What are you, twelve? It’s just a story.”

“And ’m just sayin’, it’s a dumb story!”

Their voices crackled gently in the night, flickering and hushed alongside the soft crunch and sizzle of the campfire flames. Shadows elongated against the looming trees, though there was nothing menacing nor foreboding about their dance between the branches – the rustle of the leaves was comforting in the darkness, and the stars shone brightly overhead. It was a quiet November, one among many quiet Novembers just like it, the only thing notable being the unnaturally early chill that the first few days of the month have brought with them – but that was climate change for you. Nothing was predictable anymore.

“If ya think about it critically for even, like, a second, you’d realize,” Jesse scoffed, kicking at a nearby rock with the nose of his well-worn sneaker. It landed among the burning logs of the campfires which let out a strangled hiss.

“Oh my god, there he goes again,” Peter rolled his eyes, and Sasha gave him a sympathetic look before turning back to Jesse.

“Jess, stuff like that really happens out here you know- Well, maybe not- I mean, maybe not here here, but-“

“What, satanic rituals? In this day ‘n age? Are you really stupid?”

“You’re gonna get nabbed by a cult and then we’ll see who’s stupid!” Peter stuck his tongue out, and Jesse scoffed.

He couldn’t help looking over to Alice, who sat there quietly staring into the flames. Felt himself get angry on her behalf.

“Seriously? You gonna say that in front of-“

The other boy threw an empty beer can at him, and this was about when Jesse decided he was not going to sit for it any longer – and so he stood up.

“Come on, dude, don’t be-“

He didn’t want to hear anything else Sasha had to say – she was always on Peter’s side, anyway. And Alice… Jesse didn’t bother looking at her again. She never spoke up for him either, even if he still tried to speak up for her.

This time would be no different.

Huffing and grumbling, he made his way over to the nearby riverbank, kicking all the rocks that came his way. He could still hear the peaceful roar of the campfire behind him, the low whispers of his friends blending in with the hoots of the owls and the murmurs of the winds. He would never admit it out loud of course, but he didn’t dare stray too far from camp. It was illogical to do so, anyway – and definitely not because of some creeping robed devil-worshippers sneaking around in the night, looking for their next sacrifice.

There could be bears. Or wolves.

Bears and wolves were a far more pressing issue than cults.

And so he stayed by the riverbank, kicking the tiny rocks around all while making sure he could still see the cosy glow of the fire in between the trees.

It was cold, colder yet by the rushing waters. He huddled up into his jacket. Kicked another rock.

He looked past the river onto the other side, saw a figure over there hunched over and rustling for something in the bushes. Now there’s a cultist, he thought with dry amusement, his mood immediately dampened by his own ridiculousness. He threw a heavy look at the campsite when he heard Sasha’s laughter.

Kicked another rock.

It wasn’t as though Jesse hated his friends, or hated camping, or hated campfire stories – it was simply that his friends all liked each other better than him, he was firmly exhausted after the day’s walk, and those stories stopped being scary when he turned 13 and started paying attention in class.

With time, Jesse realized that he loved things logical. Things to make sense.

He was 17 now, last year of high school, not moving on to college, jobless and purposeless in a world that seemed to be actively against him.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Not even Alice, who used to be his sole protector and companion. Not since her brother disappeared, and the rumours of a cult snatching him up began circling the place.

A particularly hard breeze swooped past him, ruffling his hair and freezing his ears. Jesse adjusted his glasses, sighed a weary sigh.

Maybe, he didn’t make sense either.

Apparently, they never even got to say goodbye.

He stood in place a while longer, his thoughts fleeting. Coughed once or twice.

Well, overreacting was one thing – getting pneumonia because of it was another. And at this point, it was quite obvious that his friends were getting tired of his little outbursts. None of them would come to fetch him back.

Definitely not Alice.

And so, tail between his legs, Jesse ran a clammy hand through his hair and kicked at yet another rock before turning to the campsite – only that was when he heard it.

Over the sounds of the night, over the rushing waters and the hoots of the owls and the laughter of his friends and the grumble of the campfire – he heard a blood curdling scream echo from the other side of the river, and whipped around fast enough for his glasses to come flying off his head.

Vision blurry, knees shaky with panic, he stumbled over the stones as he dashed towards the water to see what made the noise. The figure – that figure that he saw before, the one in the yellow jacket – was now lying on the ground, and there was another one above it, holding something way up high in the air.

Jesse’s limbs seized up with shock, his sneakers soaked through with water, he tried to yell, a shout of warning or of pure unadulterated fear, but his breath got caught up in his throat and the freezing air hurt his heaving lungs.

He heard another scream, and despite the impossibility he was certain he did not imagine it – he heard the figure call out a name he recognized all too well.

Another second, and the taller figure was bringing down its hands upon the other’s head, and Jesse’s body was reacting on its own, head turning away, eyes squeezing shut tight. He stood there still, feeling the icy water lap at the edges of his jeans, his heart beating wildly against his ribcage promising to break free at any moment. He didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare see the grisly scene across the waters – but it was quiet, and the only other sound was the rushing howl of the wind pounding against his skin.

He could’ve stood there for an hour. He could’ve stood there for ten seconds.

But when Jesse finally found it in him to look up, there was no longer a trace of the shadows across the river – and so he did not hesitate to run.

Acting on its own accord, his body bolted from the place as though struck with an electric shock and he made his way to the campsite, tripping over the stones and rocks in his sloshing shoes, refusing to stop even as his icy feet gave out and he tumbled over, ripping up his jeans and knees in the process. And all the while he ran, all while his lungs burned and his eyes prickled, all while his shaky scratched up hands grasped at tree branches and tore out leaves, Jesse hated, hated, hated how the only thought in his screaming brain seemed to be ritual sacrifice.   

His mind and body came to a screeching halt at the sight of the glowing embers, his friends all turning around to watch him scramble out of the bushes like a bat straight out of hell.

“Hey, party-pooper, just in time. The blood moon’s gonna be here any minute,” Sasha smiled at him as though nothing had happened, as though he didn’t just witness a-

“I-I-I just saw-!“ He began, voice raspy, out of breath, stammering and shaking just as bad as the rest of him, and only then did Jesse realize that there was no way he could explain what he just saw.

He had no idea what it was.

Couldn’t explain it to himself.

Ritual sacrifice.

“I think I just saw-” He tried again, eyes darting between the confused faces that looked at him expectantly, “Hell, I think I just saw a murder, guys.”

There was a pause that barely stretched a second. The girls looked at each other.  

“Riiiiiight. Course you did, Jess,” In turn, Peter didn’t miss a beat. Stood up and stretched lazily, “Anyway, the moon’s gonna rise in-“

“Are you KIDDIN’ me!?”

He stopped in the middle of his yawn, eyes growing wide as he turned to stare.

Jesse’s throat was on fire, his lungs burning through with ice, but he didn’t care. He screamed, he screamed as loudly as he should have back then, back on the riverbank, back when he saw-

“I SAW someone get MURDERED, and you-!“

“Oh, would it happen to be by cultists? Maybe a sacrifice?” Peter blinked at him, “Seriously, Jess, you’re so transparent-“

“I- ‘m not tryin’ to SCARE you-!”

“Right. Anyway-“

It was at this point that something in Jesse snapped – something small and strained and something that was keeping him together – and was replaced with something animal instead. Something feral. His eyes saw red, his frozen blood boiled over, and he stepped forward towards Peter with a curled fist for the first time in his life.

Only it was then that Alice finally decided to interfere.

“Come on, guys, look at him,” She all but whispered in her timid, gentle voice, her tiny form moving in between the two boys, “I don’t think- I don’t think he’s lying. He doesn’t look like he’s lying.”

“That’s cuz ‘m not! Not lyin’,” Jesse forced through gritted teeth, and the fight that was bubbling up inside him extinguished just like that. His arms fell to his sides, and he suddenly felt so much more exhausted.

“Saw it with m’ own two eyes,” He added, mumbling to himself as he dropped down to the nearest log and stared into the campfire. The silhouettes danced in front of his vision, the scream rang through his ears. He inhaled hard, and held his breath for a very long time.

“Hey, uh- Where are your glasses?” Sasha asked, daring to move closer.

“Dunno. Musta dropped ‘em somewhere – was too scared.”

There was another beat of silence that stretched on between them. Jesse took a chance to throw a glance at Alice. She kept avoiding his gaze.

“Think we should call the police?”

Sasha gave Peter a look and he worriedly checked his watch.

“No- No, no- Cops are useless, you know that-”

“Well, we can’t just do NOTHING-!”

“Hey, okay, tell you what - let’s go- Let’s go investigate,” Peter nodded decisively, and Jesse felt that instinctual need to punch him rise up in his gut again, “Let’s check for clues, yeah?”

“Are you crazy!? There’s a maniac out there ‘n you want us to ‘investigate’!?”

“No, listen – there’s four of us. One of him. We can totally take him. Right?”  

Peter checked his watch again.

Sasha bit her lip.

“Yeah, I mean. He probably won’t, like, return to the scene of the crime, right? We’ll just look around, and if something really happened, we can totally call the police, yeah?”

Jesse looked between the two of them incredulously, though he didn’t exactly feel any surprise. They didn’t believe him.

Never on his side, not even now.

And Alice looked like she was done speaking up for him, too.

He rubbed his hands on his jeans, coughed a few times, be it worry or on-setting pneumonia. Looked at the blurry figures of the people he called friends.

“It was on the other side of the river, across from camp,” He finally told them, exhaling a heavy breath, and they all went to grab flashlights from their tents.

A few minutes later, and they were down at the riverbank, crossing over the raging waters. Peter and Sasha excitedly jumped from one stone to the next, throwing bottles at each other and laughing as they near slipped and fell into the river. Jesse and Alice took the safest, sanest route through the bridge. Alice kept staring at her watch.

“I can’t believe they’re like this,” Jesse spat out, watching his Sasha’s flashlight bounce and glint off of the waves, “I just saw someone get killed, ‘n they don’t give two craps.”

“Go easy on them. I think they’re shaken up too,” Alice told him, avoiding his eyes once again.

“Certainly don’t look like it.”

He looked on as Peter finally fell over near the edge of the opposing riverbank, and got a sharp sting of satisfaction from the resounding splash and string of curses that followed.

“You know how people get around blood moon, right. It makes you crazy. And it’s nearly here. Just like last year. Everyone’s on edge, Jess.”

“Yeah, well, how’d ya think I feel, huh!? It coulda been anyone bein’ killed out there, y’know, coulda even been-”

He didn’t say it, didn’t allow himself to say it, but Alice looked like she heard it anyway. He was missing for a year already, of course it wasn’t him – that wasn’t logical, wouldn’t make sense.

And yet Jesse’s heart clenched at the very thought, and bile rose up all the way to the roof of his mouth. He remembered the scream. The name he heard.

“It couldn’t have been him,” Alice muttered, and he pretended not to hear.

They made it to the place, Sasha laughing, Peter wet, and Alice quiet. Jesse squinted at the rocks and trees and bushes, but it was barren. Not a drop of blood, or lick of brain.

He didn’t know what he expected.

“You sure this the place, Jess?” Sasha asked, and he had to clench his fists just not to scream again. He looked across the river. Saw the distant gleam of campfire, could imagine in his mind’s eye himself standing on the opposing edge.

“Yes,” He simply stated, and moved closer to the waters to check.

“There’s, like, nothing here… I mean… Couldn’t you have… I don’t know, imagined it?”

“How the hell would I!?”

“Come on, Jess, how long you gonna keep this up? Let’s go back,” Peter nudged him, and Jesse pointedly ignored him, bending down and searching the nearest bushes for any sliver of a clue, “There’s hardly any time left.”

“Jesse, we came all the way here to look at the moon, remember?” Sasha’s voice sounded distant. Hollow.

There had to be something – a murder weapon, or like, a piece of clothing, or anything to show that someone else was there-

“It’s going to come up any minute, Jess-“ Peter sounded annoyed, and it didn’t matter.

There had to be something, but there weren’t even any footprints – except for theirs. Jesse knew he wasn’t crazy.

“Oh my god, Pete, it’s coming up, I can see it, it’s coming up-!“

Jesse knew what he saw. He knew what he heard. He was logical.

The relentless wind kept rushing past his ears. Tugging at his clothes.

“Jesse-“

“What!?”

Snapping around with a bark, he was more than ready to finally throw a punch at Peter’s self-satisfied smile the second he laid eyes upon it – and nothing was going to stop him this time. Except this time, he didn’t see his smile.

He saw a giant rock, raised directly above Peter’s head, and the look of pure malice in his eyes.

Jesse screamed.

He stumbled backwards, dropping to the ground painfully as his feet caught on the wet stones.

“What are you-“

Peter took a step forward. Then another. And then another.

His hands were shaking from the effort, and his teeth were bare, and he didn’t hesitate for a second, and Jesse could see Sasha out of the corner of his trembling eyes, turned away, refusing to see. His mind told him to run, to fight, to defend himself, to cry – but in spite of fear, in spite of shock and panic, in spite of logic and sound sense, he turned his head to look at Alice.

Alice, who was finally staring right at him.

He screamed her name.

She blinked in return.

“It’s here, Jess. It’s here again. Just like last year.”

She pointed at her watch.

He didn’t see Peter bringing down the rock on his head. Hardly felt the pain as it split his skull in half.

He could only think of Alice’s face then, even as his limp body hit the rocky floor, even as the blood seeped out of his cranium and into the murky waters. He could only think of how sad she looked.

Almost disappointed.

He could only think of Alice even as he saw the figure in the yellow jacket across the river refuse to look at him, frozen in stiff panic at the water’s edge. Even as the wind howled past and his vision darkened.

He could only think of Alice.

He could only think how sad it was that they never got to say goodbye.