Stabbed in silver: his blade, her blood

Prologue

Night had fallen. The night breeze blew silently as any other night. Unknowingly, something unexpected was about to happen. Something that has never happened before. Without warning, the crescent moon deepened into a shade of crimson. The moon turned red.

The weather forecasters and newscasters tried to make sense of what had happened.They weren't the only ones, people from all over the world made claims. Priests and pastors said it was the coming of Jesus Christ.

The naysayers claimed it was a sign of good luck. A new beginning.

Others protested that it was a result of global warming.

But they were all very far from the truth.

For in the mystical realm of the werewolves, the Land of Six-it was an omen. A prophecy that foretold the end of the Crimson's reign and his entire bloodline.

In Alabama, a newborn's first cry pierced the night.

A girl was born. A legend, reborn.

The one who will put an end to Crimson's reign.

Her mother held her gently, though her body was cold to the touch.The moment her mother's fingers brushed against hers, the crying stopped.

Her tiny hands curled around her mother's finger. And with the mother's last breath, she spoke her name.

"Trisha Crescent."

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Eighteen years later..

Trisha pov

Running, all alone in the woods.

I was being chased... by a beast.

It lunged at me with its bare teeth and claws, almost catching up with me.

But there was a man standing in the woods right ahead of me.

Waiting.

He stretched his hands and I grabbed it. I saw his face and it wasn't that of a man. It was a wolf...

I shot up from bed sweating and panting. My breath came in short bursts, ragged like I'd just escaped something real.

I've been dreaming again.

Not once. Not twice. But every night for the past two weeks. Every night it caught me. Whatever that animal was...

But this time, it was different.There was a man with the face of a wolf.

My hands reached out for my phone on the nightstand. The screen flickered with a pop up message.

"Happy birthday, Trisha." It was from Sandra, my only friend.

I checked the time.

4:00am.

I didn't reply. I had long stopped celebrating birthdays.They weren't milestones for me. They were reminders of my mom's death. It was said that the day the moon bled, it signified a life for a life : My mom's for mine.

Well that's what my aunty, her twin always said. She made sure to constantly remind me and to never forget whose fault it was.

"The day you were born, your mother died. You weren't a gift, you were a trade. You killed your own mother, you are cursed." she always said.

These words didn't sting anymore, because it did more than sting. It broke me.

I turned to the other side of the bed.

Sleep wouldn't come back. Not after that dream.

Then I heard it.

A knock on my window. It was faint. Just once. Then it came again, louder.

I stood up, heart beating faster now, and walked slowly toward the curtain ready to open it.

But before I could–

"Trisha!"

My aunt yelled. Sharp, cold, and piercing.

I stopped.

Let go of the curtain and stepped back.

The knock didn't come again.

And suddenly I wasn't sure if it ever happened at all. I raced down the stairs in hurry, I knew what she was capable of. No time to grab my slippers.

The place was pitch black because there had been a blackout. I slammed my barefoot hard against the tile. Pain shot through my foot but still raced downstairs. I quickly turned on my phone light, my phone was already in my hands, maybe I instinctively grabbed it on my way.

My heart was throbbing at each step of the staircase because I knew that, that tone of her voice came with trouble.

And when I say trouble...

The last time she yelled like that, I was struck by her and I swear... my soul nearly left my body. I almost died. Today being my birthday would be twice as worse. I would probably die. My aunt hated my whole existence. She lashed out on me and told me over and over again that I was cursed. "No wonder my dad left me and my mom died. And she wished that I'd just die the day I was born."

I scanned the hall with my phone light.

But she wasn't there. I heard her voice from downstairs so I was expecting her to be standing right there and I was ready to dodge whatever she was going to throw at me. But she wasn't.

Did she go to her room?

"Aunt...?" My voice barely rose above a whisper. My body instinctively moved to her room. Still afraid of what's coming.

I entered her room, my phone light aimed on her bed.

No movement.

"Aunt", my voice, louder than the first.

No reply. She wasn't there either..

Where is she?

At this rate, my heart was beating so fast I could literally hear it. One minute I heard her voice, the next minute she wasn't here. My feet made their way to the kitchen.

Without warning,

My bare foot stepped into something.

Something..wet, and thick.

"Uuhh, what is–"

I aimed the light on the floor.

"Ahhhhh!!", I screamed.

Blood,

It was everywhere. Aunt!

Her face was stretched out. Her neck was torn open, more like clawed out. Her flesh was torn and her blood was splattered on the walls.

My phone fell to the ground. I staggered back subconsciously and the pool of blood crawled to me.

I stepped back again, my hands went over my mouth as tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to fall.

'Aunty'. I froze.

She was dead.

I was trembling like a leaf. My knees buckled then I dropped to the floor. My phone fell, face down with its light touching the ceiling.

"No..." The word cracked inside me.

I was too stunned to speak. Too scared to utter a word. Because this certainly wasn't a human being doing.

It was ...a beast.

My brain was everywhere trying to piece together what had happened.

What the hell happened?

Her face was still. Her lips were parted like she'd tried to scream but never got the chance.

She was alive last night to tell me that on my birthday something bad will definitely happen.

But this..?

This was more than bad. This was horrific. Maybe she was right after all. All the things she used to say. I was indeed cursed.

Tears spilled down my cheeks and then, I heard a movement. Swift but I heard it. That thing was still here. The thing that killed her still lingered around and I could hear it. My body stiffened and I held my breath afraid to make a sound. Because whatever killed my aunt was not a human, it was a beast.

A beast like the one in my dreams.

My heart felt like it would explode the next moment, its pounding echoed in my ears.

it was moving towards me. Approaching fast. I knew not to turn around. No, I just couldn't. My body grew numb and my feet, I couldn't move them. I wanted to stand up and run but my body gave up on me.

The adrenaline in my body must have run out the moment I needed it the most.

I could feel it now. It was just right behind me. Closer now. Almost touching me. Its presence pressed against my spine silent, waiting.

And then-

It touched me. Just a fingertip.

Or a claw... I couldn't figure it out.

My eyes widened. I clamped both hands over my mouth. The sobs spilled past my fingers, bitter and strangled.

A part of me knew not to scream.

I begged my body to be still. My phone light was still on, long shadows were casted on the walls.

But the shadow wasn't that of a beast. It wasn't an animal. It was in the shape of a human. It was standing tall.

"Trisha".

The shadow spoke my name; soft and...familiar.

It was more like a whisper but it instantly sent shivers through me.

My eyes widened twice like that of a full moon. At this point I feel I could just pass out of fear.

I've heard this voice before.

I knew that voice too well and I knew who.

I forced myself to turn around.

I already knew who that shadow was.. by the voice.

Not a beast, and certainly not an animal.

Werewolves, vampires, witches, mages-were all fairytales. I didn't believe they existed. I mean, who does?

My dad used to tell me bedtime stories when I was little. It was always about an Alpha King, who ruled over the land of the six. At night, when he came to tuck me in bed, he would tell the same story over and over until I fell asleep in his arms.

He always had breakfast ready before going to work and made sure to come early to pick me up from school. He played both roles so perfectly, I never wished for anything else-not even a mother.

For me, this was more than perfect. I had a life at home and at school.

I had friends. Emphasis on had.

It's just surprising how my life turned upside down. The ones I thought would stand by me didn't think twice before stabbing me in the back. The same mouths that once laughed with me started calling me names –weird, freak.

I was bullied in school and mocked by the people who were once my friends. But that was nothing compared to what I went through at home. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

I never skipped school. It was more peaceful-and safer-than home.

How contradictory.

Home is supposed to be safe and peaceful, but mine was nowhere near that.

My aunt would lash out and beat the hell out of me every night. She'd come home drunk, cussing at me-calling me a beast, a cursed child, the one who killed her twin sister.

"You're going to kill everybody around you. Everyone. Even me."

Those last words ''even me' would ignite her rage. She'd pressed her fingers deep into my neck, squeeze my neck until I felt like I was slipping away. Until my very last breath. Then she'd let go.

That was my night routine. It was a miracle I was still alive. On my birthdays, it was twice as bad.

So-school or that hellhole? I'd choose school every time.

It all started when my dad abandoned me at ten.That's when my aunt took custody. One afternoon, my friends came over. They expected snacks and a fun time. Instead, they witnessed my aunt lose control-her fury crashing down on me like a storm. She screamed, shoved, and struck, blaming me for the bankruptcy of her salon. She blamed me for everything that goes wrong in her life. I nearly died that day.

They saw it. And after that, nothing was the same.

I never asked for much. Just a normal life with my best person-my dad. But the only person I thought would never leave me, left without goodbye.

He packed his things and left like he was never there in the first place.

The truth hurts, so I'd live in a lie. My father went missing and the police searched for him but to no avail.

Because believing he was missing was easier than accepting the truth.

Denial or hope? –

Well, it shattered to the ground when my aunt didn't waste time in shoving it right into my face. "Your father abandoned you."

And I knew. I always did.

But I still waited. I waited for him.

Hope is a cruel thing after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I jerked upright in bed, heart pounding.

The sheets clung to me-damp with sweat. My breath was shallow and in short bursts.

My eyes were watering. I clutched my chest tightly, I couldn't breathe. It's like the air has been sucked out of my room.

I just woke up again from a nightmare.

Was it?...It felt too real.

Am I still dreaming?

I pinched myself hard. A gasp escaped my lips as I winced in pain.

Okay, so this is real.

I sat up, hand still clamped to my chest, trying to calm down. My eyes drifted to the tiled floor where sunlight traced lazy shapes.

Wait. Sunlight? The last time I woke up it was 4:30am. What's happening?

I grabbed my phone. 2:30 p.m.

Afternoon. That can't be right. I've been asleep for... over 10 hours?

Why didn't Aunt wake me? More like yanked me out of bed.

Every morning, she yanks me out of bed and drags me downstairs. Cussed me and slapped me on my cheeks so hard, blood shot in my eyes.

Her fingers would be imprinted on my cheeks, and reddened from the repeated slaps. It was twice as bad on my birthday.

Considering today was my birthday, something is not adding up. If everything was a dream, my aunt's dead body, the shadow... It was like I was forgetting something. I couldn't remember the face of the shadow nor the voice. My memories ended when the shadow crept behind me–anything after that I couldn't remember.

I checked my phone for blood stains.

Nothing. So how the hell did I get to the bedroom?

Unless... It was a dream, a very terrible dream. That was what it was.

I won't let my intrusive thoughts win.

If it was a dream, then she was probably alive. It was all a dream. I concluded, I didn't want any of it to be true. I didn't like my aunt but I wouldn't wish for her death as she wished for mine. And certainly not in that matter, as the memories of her dead body being torn apart was vividly printed in my head.

"Trisha.." a familiar voice disrupted my train of thoughts.

It was Sandra.

What was she doing here?

She quietly opened the door.

Her left foot stepped inside first, then her face peeked in, her blue eyes scanning the four corners of my cubicle. It was her first time in my room.

She quickly darted her eyes, but I caught the shock before she looked away. My room was so small, the narrow bed barely squeezed in.

This room was used to keep trash and I guess I was no exception because my aunt threw me in there and locked me up like I was some kind of animal.

I slept there for 8 bad years and I got pretty used to it.

"Your room is cute", she exclaimed the moment we made eye contact. It hardly sounded like a compliment.

She was holding a cake in her hands.

"Happy birthday!", she squealed.

She placed it on my lap since there was barely any space for it.

She locked eyes with mine, her brows furrowed in worry.

"You okay?"Her voice was full of concern.

How do I tell her I saw the dead body of my aunt only to wake up on my bed and I don't know if it was a dream or not?

I don't know what was even real anymore.

I turned to speak and it occurred to me.

"How did you get in?" My voice was laced with urgency.

Aunt never ever let any one in my cubicle. She always sent Sandra away and told her I'd meet her outside.

I quickly threw over my covers and slid off the bed. The cake almost toppled if not for Sandra who held it like her life depended on it.

"Well, I walked". She answered sarcastically. The cake, still in her hands. Her face twitched in annoyance certainly because the cake almost fell.

"Well since your aunt wasn't downstairs, I supposed I could come inside. Her voice, lower than the first.

Why? you don't like the cake?" she pouted.

"It's not that." I said as I opened the door and raced downstairs.

I went straight to the kitchen, where her lifeless body was. No blood splattered on the walls. No blood on the floor.

Her body wasn't there, a sense of relief washed over me. But dread still lingered,

If it was a dream and she wasn't dead then, where was she? The memories were too vivid to regard it as just dreams.

Knock, knock.

There was a knock on the door.

I almost jumped as my heart skipped a beat. Sandra rushed past me to get the door, I didn't even notice she was right beside me.

"I guess it's the pizza guy" she pulled open the door.

Trisha," she called softly. "Someone's here for you."

I joined her and froze.

Dad.

He hadn't aged a day. Still the same face-young, kind, familiar.

"Baby girl" he whispered, pulling me into a hug and lifting me off the ground.

"Dad". I said as tears I didn't intend to shed started rolling down my cheeks. I didn't know how much I've held in and...for how long? But the tears wouldn't stop.

I cried, not out of fear. I cried because he came back to me.

Maybe hope isn't a cruel thing after all.

Maybe hope is what knocks when we least expect it.

"We need to leave. Now." His voice was laced with urgency.

"Wh-what?" I stammered between sobs. The tears wouldn't stop.

"We have to go. I'll explain everything-I promise. But right now, we need to run." He put me down and urged me toward the car.

"What are you talking about, Dad?" My voice cracked-harsher and louder than I meant.

"Where are we going? And what are we running from? You're not making any sense"

He abandoned me when I needed him the most, and now he was back-asking me to leave. That's the first thing he says to me?

Deep down, though, I knew something was wrong. This past week has been one bad thing after another.

At one point, I wondered if I was losing my mind.

So when he said we needed to run... I got it. Something-or someone-was coming for us. I had felt it creeping two weeks ago... on the walk to school, when I could sense someone watching my every step. I was being followed.

"Baby girl," he said softly.

"I know you're going through a lot, and I know it seems like I abandoned you, but I didn't. I would never. Please... let's go." His voice pleaded, not demanded.

I turned to Sandra.

She looked twice as confused as I was. Her brows furrowed, her gaze flicking between me and my dad.

She didn't understand. I hadn't told her the whole story. She didn't know about my life at home-about my dad, mom, or aunt.

And now... she looked betrayed. She had stayed by my side, even when I pushed her away.

She'd always said, "You can't get rid of me, no matter how much you try."

She made sure to wish me a happy birthday-even though I told her I hated birthdays. Sandra was the comfort I didn't know I needed. She saved me once, when I was bullied in school.

When I wanted to just die, she didn't let me. She was always there, and even though I never said it, I appreciated all the things she did for me. I felt seen when I was with her.

And I guess I couldn't bring myself to tell her how bad it truly was.

How bad my life was at home.

How sometimes... I felt like I didn't have a life at all.

My dad pulled me to the car when he noticed I hadn't moved an inch. I was still wondering what to tell Sandra.

"We don't have time for this." His hands were tightly wrapped around my wrist as he pulled me. I tried to find the right words to say to her. Because "goodbye" couldn't be it.

For a second, everything seemed to slow down. I turned one last time-and her confusion faded. A flicker of pain passed through her eyes. She was hurt.

"Dad!" I screamed. He didn't let go.

"Sandra!" I cried, but she stayed frozen. Silent.

"Dad, let go." I tried to take his hands off my wrist but failed miserably.

I was dragged to the front seat, and without wasting time, my dad quickly sped off.

And I knew...

this would be the last time I'd see her. She was still standing at the door frame, motionless.

"Dad, Dad!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

"Calm down, Trisha," he said, eyes fixed ahead. "We don't have time. They are coming after us."

"Who?...What about Sandra?"

What if that thing in my dreams comes after her? I murmured to myself.

"What about her?" He asked.

"Listen to me very carefully. What I'm about to say will change everything."

His grip on the wheel tightened. The air in the car felt thinner.

"I've kept this from you for years," he continued. "Always wondering when would be the right moment. But maybe... there's no such thing as the right time."

I blinked hard, trying to steady my breath, because I knew my life would never be the same after this bombshell.

"I know it feels like you're losing it," he said. "The dreams. The wolves. The sensation that your shadow is moving before you do."

That last part made my stomach turn.

How did he know about the dreams ..wolves and the shadow?

"The dreams aren't just dreams. I know deep down, you know this. You were born special. How quickly your wounds healed and why you don't have any scars despite all the abuse you went through." He continued.

"What are you saying? What do you mean the dreams are not just dreams then...what are they?

So you mean to tell me Aunt is dead."

He glanced at me. Then back to the road. His silence was deafening.

"I think..." he said slowly, "...you already know the answer to that question."

"What do you mean?" My voice cracked. "I don't know. I don't know anything"

He drove the car off the main road onto a secluded path. Trees crowded us on both sides. Then he looked at me-not as a father, but as someone who had been hiding something unspeakable.

"Today is your eighteenth birthday. The day... your wolf awakened."

My ears rang. I didn't know what he meant. I couldn't make sense of it. I shook my head slowly.

"What wolf?" I asked. "Why are you talking like this?"

His voice softened, but his words hit me like stray bullets. Nothing could have prepared me for this absurd truth.

And without warning, he blurted out:

"You are a werewolf, Trisha."

"What?... No. No, that's not real. Hahaha-Is this some kind of joke?" I laughed nervously. "Werewolves don't exist. What are you talking about?"

"They do exist. And you know that. Hey, I know this is a lot to take in."His hands carefully reached out for mine.

I was shaking. My heart sank-not because I didn't believe it, but because I feared it was the truth.

"I'm not a werewolf." I couldn't be. I always knew I was kind of different and whenever my aunt said I was cursed, I somehow believed it. And it's true I didn't have any scars despite all the abuse she put me through.

"You are. And your aunt..." he hesitated. "You didn't dream of her death. You didn't imagine the blood."

"Trisha..." he slowed down. He knew what was coming would break me.

"You killed her."

"What?! I didn't! It was a dream... I was in bed when it happened. I didn't kill her. I'm not a beast. I'm not an animal. It wasn't me!"

"Then who was it? When you turned, whose face did you see?

Trisha, trust me-I know it's a hard pill to swallow. But I was there when it happened. I put you back in bed when you passed out, and I got rid of your aunt's body.

I told you I didn't abandon you. I've always been there." His eyes were still on the road.

My vision blurred. Time stopped.

My heart felt like it was exploding.

I remembered the blood. On the walls. On the floor.

The scream that wasn't mine.

The presence that whispered my name before I even remembered it.

"No!

No no no no no no. You're lying!" I screamed.

"I wish I were." He placed his hand on my shoulder, like he was offering comfort.

But he wasn't helping-not after dropping this bombshell.

And I knew he wasn't lying.

But I swear I was in bed when it happened. Memories of what happened resurfaced. The face of the shadow I'd forgotten suddenly came back to me.

The voice.

It was me.

But it wasn't me.

I'd never do such a thing.

My mind was spiraling. My heart ached. I clutched my chest.

This pain again.

This is a dream, I told myself. I closed my eyes desperately wishing this was all a dream.

"Hey, baby girl," he said softly. His hand was still on my shoulder. "As long as I'm here..."

He turned his focus on me when I didn't respond. His eyes softened when he saw I couldn't breathe properly.

He tilted my head upward gently. My eyes were watering. Tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Am I cursed?" I asked.

Because right now, everything pointed to that truth. Everything my aunt used to say came crushing down on me, that I was a beast and I'd kill everybody around me including her. And now I had a feeling that she knew all along.

What I was.

It was like I kind of knew too. I just didn't want any of this to be true.

It didn't make sense to me.

I still had so many questions but the intense pain in my chest overshadowed my curiosity.

"No, you are not." His hands wiped away my tears.

"You are my baby girl. You are a blessing. Whatever you experienced with your aunt-you didn't deserve any of it."

"Your wolf killed her. And if it hadn't... I would have."

"But whatever she said... is the truth."

I squeaked amidst the pain.

"Truth? You want the truth?" He paused.

"Well, here it is. We're going to the place you belong. You don't need to hide. Nobody will chase you. You will be protected and loved.

And most importantly-I'll be there to protect you."

"And where is that?"

"Home."

"We're going home, baby girl."