Blue Moon

“Blue Moon”
by
W. P. Gerace

Troy was beginning to believe his mother’s beliefs about the men in his family having the worst luck on the Blue Moon. Driving along the desolate stretch of road from his job that he no longer had as a Night Shift Supervisor at the local Harper’s Computer Factory, he gazed out into the glistening full Blue moon guarding the desert below. He wondered if there had been some truth to the Jackson curse with the full blue moon. So far today, his wife of ten years, Patti, took off with their 2 children and went back East. He lost his job at Harper’s after nearly fifteen years of excellent work and winning countless awards for high performance.

Meanwhile, the full moon and its twinkling blue presence radiated on the dark desert below. On both sides of the massive stretch of land were the towering Northern Mountains, their peaks stretching into the twilight sky. In the distance, Troy could hear the faint howl of a wolf, probably calling for it’s pack.

Trembling as he clutched the steering wheel his hands sprouted dark blue hairs along his dark skin. A loud popping sound resonated in his ears as his fingernails popped off, replaced by long red claws. Stretching his jeans, his legs tightened, and his bones plopped as they shifted and moved underneath his flesh. Splitting open, his pants and shirt tore apart as his limbs grew triple the size they were previously.

Turning the driver’s mirror down, Troy was glad this was a desolate area. He did not even recognize his own face. Just a few moments ago, he had gorgeous bluish-green eyes. Now, they were a ghastly yellow-black, reminding him of a tiger. Blue fur covered his entire face. His canines projected on top of each other, turning into razor-sharp daggers. Covering himself, hoping no one would happen to see this atrocity, Troy could not believe what he was seeing. Stretching out of the top of his head were pointy bluish-red horns. Unable to control the car, Troy felt what little remained of his humanity was slowly evaporating from his soul. Who was he? What was he becoming? Turned off to the side of the road, nearly colliding with a colossal cactus, its bristles scraping against the top of his dark green Honda. Troy smelled flesh and blood in the distance. He could hear the vigorous pumping of a human heart in his heightened senses. Prey, that was all he could think of at this point.

Trapped in his creature transformation, his tattered clothes off to the side of his seat, opening the door, his intensified strength ripped the door right off of its hinges. Scooting down on all fours, his long, pointy nose sniffed along the dirt as a deep guttural howl came from deep within him. Gazing up into the luminous blue moon, he could still hear his mother’s voice speaking in her broken Jamaican accent: You are a Jackson, and the curse will come upon you. I should have killed you at birth, but I did not have the heart to do this as my sisters did with their male children. Troy could see his mother’s soft, pale blue eyes shimmering with tears, her smooth almond skin tightening as she relayed her son’s destiny nearly ten years ago. He would not survive. None of the Jackson men did.

Troy wanted to get through this night and turn back into who once was. Troy, the married father with two gorgeous children, Haley and Peter, married to a beautiful woman, Patti, who owned her own hair salon. Troy, the man who had an excellent job at Harper’s Computer Factory. If only he could return to his human form and be left alone. If only. If only. If only.

There, a few feet on the side of the road, a frail woman with straggly blonde hair stared into the hood of her car. Shaking her head, he could not help but fall in love with her soft, amber eyes. Though quite skinny, she had a gorgeous build and smooth ivory skin. Wearing tight denim shorts and a short white tee shirt, he could not help but see the peaks of her perky breasts, practically wanting to jump out of their restraints. He still had some human abilities: the desire to be with a woman, make love, and hold a woman. If he could just fight this urge to look at her as food, if only if only.

She cut her finger while tinkering under the hood. The smell of fresh blood trickling down her hand released the beast within him. His newly formed creature wanted to feast upon her. He desired to dig his sharp teeth and claws into her smooth skin and ravish it for hours. Clenching in tremendous pain, his stomach clutched in an overwrought frenzy. Churning about as a washing machine on an endless spin cycle, the creature within him told him he needed to feast, and it had to be now, or he would die. He had to eat and tear upon her innocent flesh.

Leaping up on her petite body, his long teeth were about to rip into her pulsing veins, the smell of her blood calling him. He had no idea of what was about to occur next. Neither did the blue beast he had become. Pulling out a tiny silver revolver, she muttered not tonight bitch. She shut him clear in the face before he could even do any damage. Blood sprouted everywhere as his limped body collapsed on the hood of her car, his legs shaking as the beast left him. Darkness ensued; Troy was so far beyond repair.