12. The call of moon

Jake sat on the edge of his penthouse balcony, staring up at the night sky. The full moon hung like a glowing wound in the darkness, casting its silver light over the city below. The world looked peaceful from up here, but Jake's insides churned with the familiar dread that only came on nights like this. Tonight was different, though. He could feel it in his bones.

The change was coming.

His gaze lingered on the moon, knowing it was inevitable—tonight, like every full moon before, he would transform into the beast he had tried to bury deep inside himself. The curse ran through his blood, a gift of damnation inherited from an ancient deal made with the devil.

Jake exhaled, his breath a cloud in the cool air, and his mind wandered to his mother. Her image flashed in his mind: her gentle eyes, her soothing voice. She had tried to save him once.

His fingers tightened around the edge of his balcony, knuckles white with tension. As the minutes crept closer to midnight, the familiar ache began to build in his muscles—a warning of the horrors to come. The pain was always the first sign. A low growl rumbled in his throat, not yet fully human, not yet fully wolf.

The city lights blurred as his vision began to shift, sharpening to predatory focus. Jake staggered back inside, shutting the doors with a loud clang. He stripped off his clothes, knowing they'd only shred in minutes anyway. His body convulsed violently, a searing pain shooting through his spine, bones cracking and shifting beneath his skin. His teeth elongated into sharp fangs, his nails becoming deadly claws.

A howl ripped through his throat as the transformation overtook him. The man he was disappeared, replaced by the beast—the blood-hungry predator that lived for the hunt.

Without thinking, Jake bolted out of the penthouse, his primal instincts taking over. He leaped from building to building, faster than any human could ever dream. Soon, the towering cityscape gave way to the dark, sprawling woods beyond, where the moonlight filtered through the trees like ghosts watching his every move.

The hunger gnawed at him—an insatiable need for blood, for flesh. He ran deeper into the forest, his powerful legs tearing through the underbrush until he came to a sudden stop, his heightened senses picking up a scent. He spotted the deer just ahead, its eyes wide with fear as it froze under the weight of his gaze. In an instant, Jake lunged, the beast inside him merciless as his teeth sank into the animal's flesh.

The blood. The taste. The power. It consumed him.

But then... everything shifted.

Through the haze of bloodlust, something stirred in his mind—something ancient. A presence. His vision blurred, and suddenly, the forest around him faded. In its place stood a massive stone statue, cracked and worn by centuries. It towered over him, its form unmistakable—a devil with wings spread wide, and eyes that glowed with an otherworldly fire.

The statue seemed to pulse with energy, calling to him. Accept your fate, a voice whispered in his head, the words twisting like smoke around his consciousness. The devil's eyes bored into him, promising power, an end to the suffering, a release from the curse—if only he surrendered to it.

And then, from behind him, came another voice. Softer, familiar. "My son… you must not…"

Jake's heart clenched. His mother's voice, full of sorrow and warning. He turned, desperate to see her. But all he saw was the shadow of her figure, reaching out to him.

"Beware the devil's offer… there is always a price."

Jake gasped, stumbling back. The vision shattered, and suddenly, he was himself again, naked and trembling in the middle of the woods. His hands were soaked in blood, and at his feet lay the half-eaten carcass of the deer, its lifeless eyes staring up at him.

He fell to his knees, bile rising in his throat. His stomach heaved, and he vomited onto the ground, the acrid taste of blood and guilt burning his tongue. The horror of what he had done crashed over him in waves. The transformation, the hunger, the vision—it was all too much.

Panting heavily, Jake staggered to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His head swam with confusion. What was that statue? Why was it calling to him? And why had his mother's voice come back after all these years?

The questions weighed heavy on his mind as he looked around, realizing he couldn't stay here. He needed to get out before anyone saw him like this. His eyes darted around the clearing until he found some discarded trash—an old tent, tattered and dirty. He ripped the fabric and wrapped it around his body, the best he could do for now.

With the cloak of night still on his side, Jake moved quickly, his footsteps barely audible as he made his way back toward the city. He slipped through the streets unnoticed, a shadow among shadows. By the time he reached his penthouse, the first light of dawn was creeping over the horizon.

Inside, he collapsed onto the floor, his body aching with the aftermath of the transformation. His mind raced with the vision of the ancient statue, the cryptic message from his mother, and the lingering taste of blood still on his lips.

What fate was he supposed to accept? And what price was the devil truly asking for?

His mother had tried to protect him once, but the curse had never lifted. Now, it seemed the past was reaching for him again. But this time, it wasn't just about him—it was about the dark power pulling him toward something he didn't yet understand.

As he lay there, exhausted and broken, one thought lingered in his mind:

The next full moon would come sooner than he was ready for.

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