Fateful Encounter

24 years. That’s how long Fredro had been running. Running from his family, friends, and the hundreds of city guards who probably wanted him behind bars, if not outright executed. Running from himself.

His curse was getting stronger again. The full moon was drawing near; this time, it would be the Blood Moon. Any semblance of control over himself he may normally have would disappear. He needed to get away from everyone, everything. He couldn’t afford a repeat of Braikovic. One massacre was more than enough.

The mountains loomed before him, a sanctuary for those lost to Lycanthropy. Just another league or two, he hoped, and he’d be at their feet. Another three hours more, and he’d survive the night in solitude. Delays were the one thing he couldn’t afford today - he’d taken too many on the way here and cursed himself for it. Five hours till moonrise, another twelve till he could be himself again.

He passed through Bartumn, only stopping to grab something to eat on the last leg of his journey. He’d misjudged the distance left to travel. He was three hours away from refuge, but the stewards of time counted two hours till moonrise. And another 12 hours till he could reclaim his sense of self. He’d need to run to make it in time. Rest was a necessity for the day after tomorrow if he’d be lucky enough to make it to a town that day.

“Hey, mister!” an unfamiliar girl called out to him. Something about it drew his attention, and he momentarily forgot his urgency as he turned around. A girl stood there, out of breath. Disheveled auburn locks framed a delicate, elegant face. As his craven yellow eyes met her sapphire, the distracted traveler executed his worst impression of a carnival performer as he ate the dirt before himself. “You look hurried, but I wondered if I could steal you for five minutes. You look like someone I’ve been seeing in my dreams lately, and I was kinda curious.”

“I don’t have the time. Maybe later.” The traveler replied, blushing.

“Wait! Could I at least join you? Is there anything I could do to help?”

“Can you cure a powerful curse?” Silence. “Didn’t think so. Go back to town - there is nothing but pain, anguish, and horror on this path.”

“Don’t you know that telling someone not to do something has the opposite effect? I’m coming.”

He froze. “No. Death lies on this path. Death for you and anyone else nearby. Just… Just leave me be. I’ll be back tomorrow, and we can talk then. But please…”

As tears welled in his eyes, the girl raced forward, cut him off, startling him with a look of pure intensity. “No. You’ve suffered on your own long enough. You can’t carry the world's weight alone, so let me carry it with you! If I die, then so be it. But I’d be doing a disservice to myself, my family, and the city I call home if I didn’t help someone who needs it! So I’m coming, whether you like it or not!”

90 minutes till moonrise.

“I’ve killed too many like you; honorable, well intentioned, way too good to be around the likes of me. Your family sounds significant in the city, and I will almost definitely make an enemy of Bartumn should you stay. Don't make me spill blood tonight. Please.”

Maybe it was the desperation in his voice or the promise of dire consequences, but the girl finally faltered. Her mark further sped up, and she watched him slowly shrink into the mountains as she stopped to consider her next course of action.

Finally, Fredro was free of her presence. He didn’t hate her, but she would die in the company of IT. If he was being honest, he wanted to spend more time with her - she was beautiful and kind and seemed incredibly passionate about the things that were important to her, and how the hell was he appearing in her dreams? She definitely has fantasies - fantasies that he could never in good conscience make real. Not with his losing control every month.

Fifteen minutes till moonrise; he made it just in time. He could already feel the curse tearing away at his mind, eager to unleash its horror on the world - to unleash its horror on him. He’d fight it as long as he could - the longer he kept his control, the less time he’d spend in that accursed form.

10 minutes.

The assault intensified, clawing away at everything he held dear.

5 minutes.

He was already forgetting what happened last week. The smoky tendrils, unrelenting in their assault on his psyche, only grew stronger as the minutes passed.

4 minutes.

He’d forgotten everything important - there was only violence in this world.

3 minutes.

Desperation set in. He’d make it a few minutes more.

2 minutes.

The instincts of the beast inside were seeping in.

1 minute.

Only the core nuggets of himself remained.

Moonrise

The night sky, always a beautiful violet, decorated with speckles of stars, was disgraced by the appearance of the crimson sphere rising from the horizion. Fredro fought. Fought to keep himself sane. To keep the transformation at bay for a few minutes more. He knew what was to come. So he fought. He fought against IT; against everything. He cursed the world, his old family - whomever they were, and that person who nearly made him late to this place.

Fredro the werewolf would survive this night. The deer and elk, not so much. But he’d ask their forgiveness when this ordeal was over. But he needed to fight some more. He could feel his flesh stiffen, expanding within his clothes' confines.

Fre-The Werewolf kept fighting IT’s emergence, despite the fur growing out at terrifying speed, clothing tearing under the stresses from the suddenly added bulk and bodily contortion.

The Werewolf howled, declaring its victory for all to hear, and it was hungry; And it wanted food now. It devoured deer and elk without abandon, never truly satisfied - it wanted the flesh of a humanoid being. Something its jailer had, in his foolishness, denied it.

The twig-snap was a godsend - some delectable person had foolishly come into the grove. It would feast on them. It would make sure to take its time eating on them. They would be the delicacy served as part of the main dish. But first, they had to be caught. Let the hunt begin!

Amelia Sophia Bartumn was honestly terrified. Did that guy from earlier really tell the truth? Was there indeed death to be found by following him? What exactly was this curse he was talking about? But she promised herself she would see what she could do to help the guy. He did look a lot like someone she had been seeing in her dreams for the last few months, and even her oldest friends were growing tired of her talking about this dream man. She at least wanted to speak with him a little more before letting that dream stay a dream. So she nervously approached Elk Grove to see what was happening.

Crack!

Distracted, she missed a twig on the ground and stepped on it. She froze, suddenly aware of a petrifying presence focusing on her. A presence fueled by violence, destruction, and primal instincts. A presence closing in for the kill, comping at her from… behind!

The Werewolf prepared to pounce. The girl before it was a fool. Not only had she come near it when it was free from the constraints of its captor, but she wasn’t even aware of her surroundings! She would be easy to kill. Its maw contorted into a twisted smile as it leaped, only for the prey to whip around and look IT in the eyes.

The werewolf froze where it landed, eyes locked on. Why couldn’t IT move for the kill? She didn’t have any dangerous weapons, yet an aura of fear and confusion rooted itself deep within.

Despite every alarm, siren, and ounce of common sense, Amelia let her curiosity take over. She had already done one foolish thing tonight; why not go all in on ridiculous endeavors? Swallowing the mountains of fear threatening to tear her stomach into a million pieces, she stepped forward.

Nothing happened. She took another step.

Still nothing.

She closed the gap, yet The Werewolf was rooted in place for some reason.

She reached out to caress The Werewolf’s lower jaw as if it were her dog back home.

Confusion was all that was going through Fredro’s mind. The moon was still rising in the night sky, so why was he able to reason properly? Who was this girl that he could sense in front of him? Why was she approaching him? And why was her approach driving away the werewolf?

As she caressed the beast's lower jaw before her, Amelia and Fredro both felt something intangible crumble away. Fredro finally regained his sight and was flabbergasted. Despite all his warnings, the girl from earlier was reaching out to him. And despite everything he knew about his curse, she was perfectly safe and intact, and he was himself again. Exhausted, he could only collapse into her arms and cry as she made contact with him.

———————————————————————————————————————

Maybe Fate or Cupid smiled at Fredro for once, but that is irrelevant now. What matters is that he found himself an auburn-haired angel who could keep the most vile parts of him in check, who may be able to help him discover what he had been missing for so long. For the first time in eternity, Fredro felt genuinely safe. And although he didn’t know what the future held for him, he swore that he would never try to escape his saintess’ sapphire gaze.