Moon Monsters Like Me

“Come on,” Hector calls from ahead of me. “We want to reach the top before sunset.”

The trail—and Hector—disappear behind a strand of pine trees. I take a minute to catch my breath. The trail to the top of Mount Misery is only two and a half miles long, but it’s a steep and rocky climb. For two weeks now, Hector has been begging me to join him on a hike to the top to watch the sunset. I finally said yes, forgetting the moon would be full tonight. I really like Hector—a lot. It’s too bad I’m going to kill him.

I glance at my watch before following him into the pines. Five thirty—the sun will set in an hour. I can already feel my body reacting to night’s approach: my muscles are tightening, I’m itching from the hairs ready to break through my skin, my jaw is heavy, and I keep grinding my teeth. As I walk into the pines, I pick up the musky scent of Hector’s sweat and start drooling. I break into a run, then catch up to him. He’s leaning against a boulder, grinning, looking as delicious as ever.

“What’s the rush?” I ask between pants. I raise my arm next to his head, place a hand against the boulder, and lean toward him. “The sun isn’t going to set for another hour. The top can’t be too much further, can it?”

“We’re almost there.” He flashes that adorable little smile of his. “I wanted to… talk to you about something when we reach the top.”

“What?”

He shakes his head and looks at his feet. “I’ll tell you at the top.”

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

His little smile returns. “Consider it your motivation to reach the top.” He leans toward me and our foreheads almost touch, but before I can react, he’s scrambling over the boulder like a giant lizard on the run.

I watch him take off, wondering which part of his body I’ll eat first. All those years playing soccer have given him thick legs and a firm butt—I think I’ll start there.

I haven’t had a full transformation yet, but it feels like tonight is the night. I started showing signs of lycanthropy about four years ago, right around my twelfth birthday. It started out innocent enough: Every full moon, I’d feel completely wired once the sun went down, like I just gulped down a double espresso with an energy drink chaser. I thought it was hormones, just another entry on my list of growing pains. But things only got worse: There’s the black hairs that break out all over my body, then fall off once the full moon starts to wane; there’s the muscle spasms; the back aches; and the weird sensation that my teeth are growing too big for my mouth. Last month I locked myself in my bedroom after a tail wiggled its way out of my lower back. It’s mortifying.

My Uncle Sid has lycanthropy, so I guess it runs in the family. I don’t know how he found out about me—maybe he saw the hairs—but he had a long talk with me about our mutual shame one night. He told me no one else in our family knew about him, that it was his dirty little secret. He had a special room built in his basement and every full moon he chains himself up with a slab of prime rib to keep himself from going berserk. Apparently the change makes you incredibly hungry—for meat, of course. He offered to set up a space for me, but I played dumb, like I didn’t know what he was talking about. I don’t know, there’s something about wolfing out with your uncle that’s pretty creepy, and Uncle Sid’s pretty creepy to begin with. 

“Just be careful,” he told me. “If you turn in front of your friends and word gets out, they’ll be calling the Papal Army to correct you, or worse. A werewolf buddy of mine was sick and lost track of time, ended up wolfing out at the pharmacist while picking up some cold and flu medicine. He didn’t hurt anyone, just scared a few people and tore up a gummy vitamin display. Last I heard, monster hunters showed up at his house a week later. Nobody’s seen him since.”

Well word isn’t going to get out about me, because I plan on devouring Hector after I turn tonight. It's crazy to think that out of all the kids at school, Hector would be my first victim. I’ve liked Hector—really liked him—ever since I first laid eyes on him in Ms. Cheney’s seventh grade history class. We did a report together on the role golems played in World War II, complete with a diorama of a golem smashing a German tank during the liberation of Prague. Ms. Chaney liked it so much that she chose it as one of the projects to display on back-to-school night.

Our friendship blossomed working on that project together. We’d meet at the library or the art room after classes, sometimes just to talk, sometimes just to be near each other. I think we’ve both been nervous about getting too close. Obviously I have a secret to keep, but sometimes I get the impression he has secrets of his own. It doesn’t make any difference what they are though, because I know I’ve fallen for him. His dark brown eyes, his tight little body, that shy smile—is it any wonder I want to eat him alive?

I don’t even know if I can go through with it. In another life, we’d be passing notes to each other in class, finding a place to hide and makeout after school, sharing our plans and dreams for life after graduation. But when you’re a monster like me, that life is only fantasy. Besides, shouldn’t your first be someone special? If I’m going to chow down on somebody tonight, I’d rather it be someone who means something to me instead of some random bum off the street.

“Come on, pokey, I can see the clearing at the top!” Hector’s voice breaks through my thoughts and brings me back to reality. But let’s be honest: This can’t be real—can it?

I’m coming for you, Hector. I break into a run to catch up to him, trip over a branch, and fall flat on my face. My back is stiffening up and I’m having a hard time keeping myself from walking on my toes. He races back and holds out a hand to help me up. “Doesn’t anyone maintain this trail?” I ask.

“Not really. Most people stay out of the woods anymore, especially this close to Halloween and this far from the city. Nobody comes up here, but that’s why I like it.”

His hand feels warm and strong as he pulls me to my feet. I get lost in the sensation and almost fall into him, but he grabs me by my shoulders and straightens me out.

“Are you ok?” he asks. “I thought you’d be able to handle this trail.”

“Just a little light headed,” I say with a smile.

“You probably need something to eat. Did you pack any snacks?”

“I forgot.” But don’t worry. The shadows are getting longer; I’ll be eating soon enough.

“What did you bring?”

“A bottle of water and a change of clothes, just in case…” I slip my thumbs under the straps of my backpack and smile.

“Same here.” Hector smiles again. Did he just wink? “And a blanket. Just in case.”

I can’t tell if he’s making this harder or easier for me. We push on, Hector leading the way. Everything is turning gray except the sky, which becomes a deeper blue; it’ll be night soon. I told my parents I’d be spending the night at Taylor’s house, then I told Taylor I was going to Dakota’s. I still don’t know what I’ll do once everyone realizes Hector’s gone. Running away isn’t out of the question. That’s how it is for monsters like me: a lonely life on the run.

We finally reach the top. A clearing opens in front of us, as if someone’s ripped out all of the trees to make a spot to watch the sun set unobstructed. At the center of the clearing, there’s a deep pond that looks like a giant rain puddle on the top of the mountain. Its still waters hold a perfect reflection of the sky above. Though the sun hasn’t set yet, I can see the full moon  reflected on the surface of the water, a signal of what’s to come. I can’t shake the feeling that fate has brought me here, having already chosen Hector as my first victim.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hector asks. He tosses his backpack to the ground and stretches his arms to the sky. “I know that water’s cold, but I feel like going for a swim.”

“It’s nice,” I say, tossing my backpack next to his and creeping up behind him. It’s not such a bad setting for your last night on earth.

“It’s nice to just come up here and watch the sunset.” With one arm, Hector pulls me toward him, with the other he points past the pond. “You can see the city from up here.”

Lights twinkle to life in the distance, safeguards against the approaching darkness. Hector takes a seat on what’s left of a fallen tree. I sit down next to him. 

“What’s your plan for once the sun sets?” I ask. “That trail is too overgrown to go back safely in the dark.”

“Who said anything about going back?” Hector looks directly into my eyes and I feel a fire burning inside me. He laughs and looks away. “There’s a flashlight in my backpack in case we need it.”

The sun sinks a little lower. I try to hide the discomfort I’m feeling—my muscles are twisting and bulging under my skin. “Were you really planning on spending the night up here…with me?”

“I was hoping…” He leans toward me. I swear I can hear his pulse quickening. He’s so close I can practically taste him. “The truth is, I think about you a lot. And I was hoping, maybe tonight, we could get to know each other a little better.”

I’m glad I’m wearing baggy clothes, because it feels like a tail has sprung up in my pants and it might actually be wagging. “I think I’d like that. I feel like this was meant to be.”

Even in the fading light, I can see that Hector is blushing. “It’s a full moon tonight,” he whispers.

Tell me something I don’t know. I take a deep breath, carrying his scent deep into my chest. I can feel the warmth of his body as he leans closer, his cheek against mine, his skin against my skin, his lips to my—

“Hector, stop!” I push him away and jump up from the log. I feel like I could run a marathon but I’m having trouble standing.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s… I like you Hector, I really do, but tonight might not be the best night.” The shadows of the trees stretch out like an image from a nightmare. The first stars appear.

Hector covers his face with his hands. “I thought you wanted this. Maybe I was wrong about you… I’m sorry.”

“I do want this, but not… like this. I want to give you a chance…” The sun is a distorted blob of gold on the horizon; all of the clouds are blazing pink.

“A chance for what? To say no?”

“No. A chance to run.” I fall to the ground. The pain is overwhelming, but also liberating. I feel like a part of me that I’ve kept hidden for so long is finally free. The sun sinks and night casts her starry cloak over the two of us. My rational mind processes one final thought before the beast takes over: Why is Hector taking off his clothes?

Everything goes black, then red.

I hear a bird singing and feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I open my eyes and stretch. I must have fallen asleep in the grass—completely naked. I should feel cold, tired, and achy, but I’ve never felt more alive. I rub my hands against my temples, trying to remember what happened last night, but it’s all a blur. I remember the sun setting, looking at Hector—where’s Hector? I jump up and look around. I’m all alone.

I spot something behind a log at the edge of the woods. It looks like a body that’s been torn apart. I can see white bones—maybe ribs?—jutting out from a mass of flesh and blood. It’s a mess, but is it Hector? I walk toward the body for a closer look, but then drop to my knees. I can’t bring myself any closer. I don’t want to see his face—if it’s still attached to his skull. I can only imagine the look in his eyes: the fear and confusion that comes when you finally squeak out an I think I love you to the very person who’s ripping your throat out. Is this the way it’s going to be? Am I doomed to a life of loneliness just like creepy Uncle Sid?

“Are you ok?”

I spin around and there’s Hector standing behind me. He’s fully dressed but his hair is wet and a towel is draped over his shoulder. He’s holding my backpack in his hands.

“You’re alive! I thought…”

He laughs when he sees the body I was walking toward. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the log and the mess behind it. “You thought that was me? That’s the deer we killed last night.”

I peer over the log and see that it is a deer, its legs ripped off and chewed up, the head still intact, the mouth open, the tongue hanging out, the eyes wide in fright. “We… did that?”

“You don’t remember? Is this your first time? I had a hard time remembering my first time, too.”

“You mean… you’re a werewolf?”

He shakes his head. “I turn into a crocodile. I come from a long line of werecrocodiles.”

“But you’re a lycanthrope?”

“I prefer the term moon monster. It doesn’t have all those negative connotations, and it’s less wolf-centric.” He tosses me my backpack. “Um, you should probably get dressed. You might want to wash up in the pond first. I thought you’d changed before, since you brought an extra set of clothes.”

“No. This was my first time. How did you know about me?”

Hector shrugs. “I could just tell. How did you know about me?”

“I didn’t.” I blush from embarrassment and look away. “I thought I was going to eat you.”

Hector breaks into laughter. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

“Have you ever eaten someone before?”

“Uck, no! That’s so gross. There’s not a lot of meat on people, and I imagine they taste pretty nasty. My aunt and uncle have a farmhouse. Most full moons I go there and we eat a pig or a sheep.”

“My uncle’s a werewolf; he locks himself in his basement.”

Hector shakes his head. “A lot of moon monsters are like that, living in fear. I’ve been changing for about a year now. It’s not so bad. You get used to it pretty quickly.”

“Do you know any other lycan—moon monsters?”

“Me and my aunt turn into crocodiles and I know a guy that turns into a bear, and a girl that turns into a leopard. Sometimes we all meet up at my aunt’s farmhouse. Maybe you could join us sometime? It’d be fun. My uncle has some lambs he’s been fattening up.”

Our eyes meet and we smile together. He slips his hand in mine. I go weak at the knees, but it’s not because I’m about to transform. We walk back to the pond. From my reflection in the water, I can see that my face is covered in blood. For the first time I notice that my hands are bloody, too.

“Did you bring a towel?” Hector asks.

“No.”

“Use mine.” 

He tosses me his towel. As I hold it to my face, I can pick out his scent from the pond water’s. Once I’m clean, I toss it back to him, then start to get dressed.

“So you were planning on killing me, huh?” he says sheepishly as he stuffs the towel in his backpack.

“I don’t know—it’s all so confusing. I thought it was fate. I thought I had to kill somebody, that it had to be tragic. And if I had to do it, I figured it should be someone special. Somebody that meant something to me.”

“I think you watch too many movies.”

“If it makes any difference, I’m glad I didn’t kill you. I’m glad we have something in common.”

“It makes all the difference.” Hector laughs.

We walk back to the trail. The way down is a thousand times easier than the way up, especially when you’re not focused on losing the light.