Wolf Moon

I remember the night I was born. 

The last pink glare of a summer sunset had been replaced by a sky filled with endless rivers of black gloom.  By midnight, the clouds had all scattered, allowing the glimmer of stars and the erupting light rays from a bountiful full moon. 

The island echoed with howls as I was born. I’ve heard many different accounts from people who claim to remember their own births, but they’re all liars.  I, meanwhile, am of a special breed who can with all certainty say, I remember mine. 

I remember the hysterical moans and howls from my whole extended family, while the entire pack danced in ceremony. The moon was in full form. The  bonfire flames were  flickering and contorting against the trash burning in the pit—the sparks trailing off into the starry abyss.  I’ll never forget the moment I left my mothers womb, and was greeted by the night sky.  

The night air was crisp against my skin. I can still see the ecstatic expressions on the faces of all my uncles, aunts and cousins as they danced and lifted their heads to the sky. Most of all, I’ll always remember a certain pungent odour entering into my nostrils, filling me with a deep, raging hunger. An insatiable hunger; one which has never left me since. 

This curious odour had emanated from the chalices and trays of delicacies being passed around and devoured. A full moon birth was the most festive occasion of all.  As much blood and flesh was collected as possible for a full moon birth feast.  Nothing else possessed the same level of sanctity. 

My grandmother  brought the chalice to my lips and I drank it down until it was empty, and then I begged for more. The Hair covering my tiny body stood erect as I howled. The rest of the family marvelled at the sight of me. They turned their heads to the sky and howled their praise and gratitude. 

My father stood tall and proud, his dark eyes gleaming. 

“He’s a good one”

“A real good one”

And of course, he was right. 

I was a good one.  While the rest of my family were off in some way—usually overly hairy and beastly looking, usually not very intelligent— sometimes even, completely socially inept, that wasn’t the case for me.  They were all social outcasts and had to make their money working at menial jobs; custodians, telemarketers, or the smarter ones —crane operators. 

While I had my beastly features—dark eyes, a massive jaw, a tall and hulking frame, I had also been blessed with more handsome features— a soft complexion and a disarming smile. On top of all that, I had the highest IQ in our pack’s history. The family saw in me a potential to help raise the pack within the mortal society at large. Little by little our family could gain predominance. 

I blended in well with the mortal world. I was well-liked by the other kids I went to school with. Indeed, it seemed, sometimes I blended in a little too well. Sometimes, even I considered myself one of them. At least, maybe, I’d wished that were the case. I wished for the insatiable hunger burning within me to finally be done with. Or, in other words, no more full moon blood feasts. 

My grades were good, I played on sports teams and I got invited over to other kids houses. The only thing the other kids found strange about me  was that I never attended any of their sleepovers or overnight camps.  

“I’ve got insomnia” 

I told them as an excuse. 

“I only sleep a half hour a night” 

It wasn’t exactly untrue, either. 

But, that only made me all the more alluring in their eyes. 

‘Henry Bolan’ ,or, at least as I was known in the mortal world, was someone whom everyone could relate to.  He could toss a ball, solve a math problem, or write a sonnet. He was strong, he was intelligent, he was cool. I just wished I could actually be this Henry Bolan everyone else knew and adored. 

I wished I could share in their experience of life, instead of this beastly appetite I’d been fated with.  Especially once I’d met Iris. Iris with the milky complexion. The red haired, green eyed, delicate beauty—Iris. Iris had her guard up at first, when I showed up at her locker and told her to skip class with me.  

I gave her the same tantalizing glare which had worked on so many of the other, previously, virgin girls whom I’d worked my charm over on. 

“I don’t even know who you are, and by the looks of it, you’re probably not even sure of that yourself, walking up and trying to play that smooth, ‘hot  shit’ act on me. You’ve seen too many movies, buddy. No, I wont skip class with you, creep.” 

I was floored.  

I smiled and as I turned around—as proudly as I could with my tail between my legs— I had just barely noticed a slight grin across her face. 

There was still hope. 

It was still early in the semester. Early enough for me to switch into the same photography class I’d learned Iris was taking. 

She avoided me for quite a while but It didn’t matter. I possessed something that any mortal, no matter whom, even a girl as strong willed as Iris, simply couldn’t resist. 

I remember her blushing one afternoon in class. as I hunched over, gawking in admiration at her photo collection. I remember her eyes flickering from my eyes to my lips to my arms bulging out my t shirt while I thumbed through each print.  I pretended not to notice her glances. 

Eventually, after a few weeks of teasing her and building her trust, I knew it was sealed. I finally pulled the trigger and set up a date. 

“Come, Iris”

I said in a conspiratorial tone 

“This Saturday around 3. Perfect exposure. I’ll take you to the secret spot. The one at Steele’s ravine I’ve been holding back from you.” 

“Seriously?” Said Iris.  Her eyes were wide and I remember staring deep into them and realizing how in love she was, right in that moment. 

Reflexively, iris looked down ,once she finally pried her gaze from mine, and she tried to adjust herself from her sudden outward display of excitement. 

 But, by then it was too late. By then she knew that I knew— she was mine and there was no going back. 

“I’ll be at your place at 2:30” 

I said affirmatively. 

Iris proceeded to hand me a slip of paper with her parent’s address written down. 

It was a sunny autumn afternoon. The smell of dead leaves, the rushing waters of the creak, the vibrant colours of the trees and the desire in our blood was enlivening on every level of being. The photos we took simply could not capture the beauty of every breathing moment we had shared that afternoon. 

I took us up along a hill which gave us a panoramic view of the entire park, the endless maze of streams and the dense, colourful array of Red Oak and Red Maple trees.  I remember the wind blowing through Iris’s hair as her wide green eyes savoured the image before her.  I remember the disturbing feeling I had as I felt my appetite rising. 

“It’s as perfect as you said it was”  Iris spoke. 

After we took our camera shots,  we sat on a blanket as I uncorked a bottle of wine I’d packed. The air was becoming chillier as Iris  buried herself closer into me, our body heat and the drink providing us warmth.  

We laughed about our teachers and other students, we opened up about emotional family issues, and as the sun was setting we enjoyed a long silence, her hand was tiny when it rested in mine. 

“You’re cold” I said, finally, staring at her crimson coloured lips.

“No I’m not.” 

The daylight was quickly fading. 

I felt myself growing hungrier each moment. 

“We had better go back.” 

I said looking out at the darkening evening sky. 

“Really? Are you sure?” 

Her voice was sleepy and seductive.  

She showed no interest in leaving. Her hand was buried in mine. Her arm resting upon my thigh didn’t budge. Her eyes were glazed as she tilted her head back against my shoulder.  She raised her neck and chin towards me, inviting me to take her Into my hands and to kiss her full, juicy, wet, lips. 

From there, my memory is like a scrambled VCR machine.  

I remember the passion of our bodies against each other.  I remember my mouth against her fleshy white skin. I remember the sweetness in her moaning and in her breath and in her delicious lips against mine. Nothing ever tasted as sweet. 

All I can remember following that was the cold breeze, and the starry night sky as I howled out to the moon above.