The summer air in Milltown hung thick and sweet with licorice and the lingering scent of supper. At the heart of the town square, a great bonfire crackled, its leaping flames like golden fireflies against the night, warming the faces circled around it.
"Dance, girl!" Miller Bartin bellowed, waving clumsily at the girl of about fifteen.
"Bartin, spare Ellis!" Her father's deep, laughing voice cut in, his weathered face still handsome beneath its lines.
Ellis grinned, twisting away from Bartin's bear hug. Her gaze swept the familiar faces lit by firelight: Old Tom the blacksmith puffing his pipe, gesturing wildly about the bear he'd never caught in his youth; Mary from the general store squinting over her knitting needles, their soft click-clack a steady rhythm. Her brother Aiden, a joyful puppy of a boy, shrieked as he chased friends between the grown-ups' legs, waving the little wooden horse their father had just carved, trailing the clean scents of sweat and crushed grass.
A solid sense of safety wrapped around Ellis. Milltown was their fortress, a stout wall keeping the world's storms and wild tales far away. Werewolves? Vampires? Just stories from bards, meant to scare children at bedtime, as distant as dust on the horizon.
Their world held only the bonfire's warmth, the mild buzz of cider, the neighbors' hearty shouts, and the solid earth beneath their feet.
She breathed deep: the mingled sweat and joy of the crowd. Home. Safe. Steady.
"Ellis?" Her mother's gentle voice cut through the noise. She stood beside her daughter now, offering a small biscuit. A trim woman, her eyes held infinite softness in the moonlight.
Ellis took the biscuit, her fingers brushing her mother's cool knuckle. At that moment, her mother pressed something else firmly into her palm—a heavy, old silver pendant, warm from her skin. Its surface was smooth as river stone, etched with strange, unreadable symbols.
"Mom?" Ellis looked up, brow furrowed. The pendant felt alien, unsettling in its weight.
Her mother's smile stayed, but her eyes darted toward the deep, moon-blackened shadows beyond the town. Her voice held a thread of tension. "Keep it close, my darling…" A whisper. "Tonight… this moon… it's too bright. Frighteningly bright."
Ellis instinctively looked up. The moon hung like a polished silver coin in the ink-black sky. Its light glared, bleaching every roof, street, and smiling face a stark white. Even the bonfire's warmth seemed frail beneath its cold gaze.
Then, a howl tore the night apart.
No beast made that sound—it was pure, ancient fury. It froze laughter mid-air, like ice driven deep into bone.
Bartin's drunken grin stiffened. Old Tom's story died in his throat. Mary's needles clattered to her lap… every face turned toward the sound's source.
A second howl shattered the silence.
A third! Answering snarls exploded instantly from the east near the mill, the southern meadow, the northern mountain path! They wove a net of sound, trapping Milltown.
"W-werewolves?!" Hark, the tavern keeper, shrieked, his usual steadiness gone.
"Run!" The first scream ignited panic. Joy dissolved into primal terror.
The crowd surged like a kicked anthill, scattering sparks. Grills overturned, food tumbled into the dirt, trampled instantly. Screams, sobs, splintering wood twisted into a suffocating roar.
Her father's face drained of color. He flung his tin mug aside, shoving her mother and Ellis toward a corner of the square with his body. "Hide! Now!" His voice was gravel. His eyes locked onto the moonlit entrance, a vein throbbing at his temple.
Her mother trembled violently but made no sound. Her gentle eyes burned with fierce resolve. She seized Ellis's wrist. "Ellis! Aiden! This way! Hurry!"
Aiden stood frozen, face ashen, eyes wide with terror. Their mother yanked him forward, one arm clamped around him, the other dragging Ellis, forcing a path through the fleeing tide. She used her slight frame to shoulder people aside, heading straight for a tall stack of mill flour sacks piled against a wall.
Crash! A thunderous roar behind them! Ellis whirled, heart leaping into her throat!
Old Evans's ivy-covered cottage crumpled as if crushed by a giant invisible fist! The roof collapsed like paper, the chimney snapped, bricks and heavy beams carving savage arcs through the harsh moonlight.
As dust billowed, a nightmare shape rose from the wreckage.
It stood taller than the strongest plough horse! Steel-grey fur gleamed like mercury under the moon. Its huge head lowered, jaws gaping, wet fangs glistening. Eyes like polished black obsidian stared out. Most chilling was the jagged cross-shaped scar slashed across its chest.
It stood bathed in moonlight, less a beast than a mythic demon made flesh.
Its head snapped back. A deafening roar erupted toward the moon, swallowing every cry of despair.
Icy terror flooded Ellis. The sheer monstrosity before her triggered instinctive fear. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, her legs turned to water. Only her mother's desperate pull kept her upright.
"In! Quick!" Her mother's voice rasped. She shoved the trembling, sobbing Aiden into the narrow gap between flour sacks.
"Ellis! In! Hold him! Not a sound! Not one!" She practically threw Ellis in after him. Rough burlap scraped her back. Choking flour dust filled her nose and mouth.
Ellis pressed tight against Aiden. His hot tears soaked her neck. She clamped a hand over his mouth, terrified even her own heartbeat might be heard. Aiden shook violently against her. Dust clogged her throat; she fought the urge to cough.
Ellis strained to turn her head, catching one last glimpse of her mother through the burlap fibers—a face etched with agony, love, and iron determination. Then, her mother dragged a heavy empty barrel and thick planks, clumsily blocking their hiding spot.
Finished, she didn't flee. Instead, she pressed her back against the sacks, right beside the gap where her children hid, shrinking into the meager shadow, facing the square.
Ellis jammed her eye against the burlap gap, ignoring the dust stinging it. The hell outside burned its images onto her mind.
Neighbor Jack stumbled past nearby, his face a mask of frozen terror in the moonlight. A streak of silvery grey, swift as a cracking whip, shot from behind a broken wall! The air filled instantly with beast-stink and thick blood.
A sickening crack of shattering bone. Jack crumpled bonelessly. The grey streak vanished back into darkness, leaving only an impression. The thud of his body hitting the ground struck Ellis's heart like a stone.
"No—!" Her father's ragged scream ripped the air! He burst from the tavern porch shadows, both hands gripping his wood-axe. Moonlight flashed cold on the blade.
"Back! Beast!" His roar held the fury of a man with nothing left. The axe swung with all his weight, all a woodsman's lifetime of strength, a heavy arc slicing the air. It bit deep into the junction of the great wolf's shoulder and neck!
Thunk! The blade sank into hide, muscle, bone. Dark blood welled, streaming down the silver fur.
Hope surged in Ellis's chest. Had he done it?
It died in an instant.
The wolf howled in agony and twisted violently. Ellis watched in horror as that deep, terrible wound… knitted shut like sealing skin! Only a wet bloodstain on the fur remained, and the axe… stuck like a grotesque ornament, wobbling in the thick hide.
Her father's face turned ashen, despair hollowing him. He stared blankly at his axe, then at the monster.
The wolf's burning eyes locked onto him. A low, threatening growl rumbled in its throat. Her father staggered back, raising empty hands in a useless shield…
From a half-collapsed shack across the square, a hoarse, fierce old woman's voice cracked: "Get out! Cursed moon-beast!" Old Esther! Ellis remembered her as kind, always smelling of herbs.
She was grabbing anything to hand—jars, tools—hurling them at the wolf about to attack her father.
The wolf snarled in rage, whirling toward the old woman. It lunged into her shack with impossible speed. Bottles on a table near the door tipped over. Colourful liquids mixed, bubbling violently.
"No! That's—!" Esther's voice choked with terror, her face contorted. Something stranger happened: The spilled potion stopped bubbling. Instead, it contracted violently inward, coalescing into a tiny, painfully bright white point—a miniature full moon.
Boom! The point detonated! A shockwave slammed outward. Stone, wood, shattered furniture flew. A wave of heat, stinking of burnt herbs and sulphur, engulfed everything. Even the seemingly invincible wolf yelped in pain. The blast expanded, surging toward Ellis!
In the split second before impact, Ellis glimpsed—the figure pressed against the sacks. Her mother. Arms flung wide, she threw herself desperately over their hiding place, shielding it with her own back!
Dust drifted down like grey snow, settling over the ruined square.
A soft, pained gasp reached Ellis's ears, a dying whimper. Then… silence. Only the thick, panting breaths of beasts in the dust, and… red liquid welling from her mother's lips. Drip… drip…
Time froze. Each second stretched agonizingly. Aiden shook against her, burning hot. Her mother… just beyond the thin barrier. So close, Ellis could almost hear each shallow, broken breath.
Now, the woman who had shielded them with her body, each weakening gasp let warmth bleed into the cold air.
Rage burned her chest. Grief drowned her throat. Raw terror clawed at her. Her body felt alien—her heart hammered against her ribs, yet her limbs were ice, numb and useless.
She watched, helpless, as her mother's body slid slowly down the rough sacks, like a puppet with its strings cut… Aiden lay limp and unconscious in her arms.
The dust settled a little more. The cold moon reappeared, indifferent to the bloody ruin. A single, razor-thin beam found its way through the burlap gap. It fell squarely on Ellis's face, streaked with tears and flour.
The light was freezing. Soul-freezing.
The moment moonlight touched her skin, a wild, primal fury erupted from deep within her.
The edges of her sight burned, rimmed with an eerie gold light. At the same time, a raw, overwhelming scent of blood flooded her nostrils. Her nose flared uncontrollably, each breath intensifying the metallic stench.
Her clenched jaw wrenched open. Sharp pain lanced through her gums as her canine teeth tore through soft flesh. She tried to curl her fingers, met only by the agony of shifting bones and the grating sound of new claws scraping together. A pelt of fine, shimmering silver fur rippled across her exposed arms.
Beneath the frozen numbness of fear and grief, something sleeping inside her… had woken.
What… is happening to me?