The Awakening

Nova stood in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection that had become increasingly unfamiliar over the past few months. At sixteen, she was no stranger to change—adolescence was supposed to bring shifts in everything from her body to her moods. But what she saw now sent a chill down her spine.

Her once-smooth skin was now marred with faint reddish patches that seemed to be spreading across her cheeks and arms. It wasn't acne; it felt hot to the touch. She reached out to trace the marks, her fingers trembling slightly as she did so.

"What the hell?" she muttered under her breath, her voice barely above a whisper. She had always been a quiet girl, one who preferred to observe rather than engage, but this was impossible to ignore.

Nova had always been curious about her origins. Her parents, Mary and John Carter, were loving and kind, but she couldn't ignore the differences. Their warm brown eyes and sandy hair clashed with her strikingly pale complexion and raven-black hair. When she had asked about it as a child, they would smile gently and tell her she was their "little miracle," a baby left on their doorstep one stormy night.

As she grew older, the story became harder to accept without question. Who leaves a baby in the dead of night? Why were there no clues—no note, no blanket, no name? Her parents had always dismissed her questions with vague reassurances, their voices tinged with an unease she couldn't quite understand. They had taken her in, adopted her legally, and by all rights she was theirs. They loved her fiercely and had raised her as their own, and for a long time, that was enough. But deep down, Nova couldn't shake the sense that there was more to her story.

But now, as she stared at the mirror, she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Her reflection looked the same at first glance— her pale skin, the unruly dark hair that framed her face—but her eyes. There was something in them now, a faint glow that flickered like embers, as though the fire inside her refused to stay hidden.

She ran her hands over her arms, pressing against the muscle there, stronger and more defined than it had been even weeks ago. When had she noticed this? The time she'd shifted the heavy dining table by herself, shocking even her father? Or maybe it was when she'd gripped the edge of the kitchen counter during a fight with her mother and left gouges in the wood—marks they'd quietly painted over the next day.

And the hunger. It was always there, gnawing at the edges of her thoughts. It had started subtly—a craving for rare meat, the way her stomach twisted when the scent of blood wafted from the butcher shop. But now, it was something more primal, more demanding, a need she didn't know how to satisfy.

Nova pressed her palms against the cool surface of the sink, trying to steady herself. The mirror's reflection seemed to mock her uncertainty, the faint glow in her eyes growing brighter as her emotions surged. Whatever this was, it wasn't normal.

Still, there was no denying what was happening now. As she watched, one of the patches began to pulse with a faint red glow, like a living thing beneath her skin. Nova's heart raced as she pressed her hand against her cheek, trying to ignore the heat that radiated through it.

"Nova, honey, are you okay?" Mary's voice called from behind her, breaking her out of her trance.

She turned to see her adoptive mother standing in the doorway, wearing a faded robe and her hair tied up in a messy bun. Her eyes widened when she saw Nova's hand still pressed against her face.

She frowned as she leaned closer to the mirror, her fingers brushing over the reddish patches blooming along her collarbone and creeping up her neck. The skin wasn't itchy or tender, but the sight of it made her stomach twist. It wasn't the first time they'd appeared.

Her mother had noticed them years ago, during a particularly stressful time in school. "Probably rosecea," Mary had said, her tone light but dismissive. "Stress can do that to anyone, sweetheart." A quick trip to the doctor hadn't uncovered anything unusual, and the patches eventually faded.

But these weren't the same. They burned beneath her skin, not with pain, but with heat, a strange warmth that seemed to pulse like a second heartbeat. No amount of calming teas or cold compresses ever helped now.

"Are you feeling ok?" Mary asked, her tone laced with concern.

Nova hesitated for a moment, then stepped back from the mirror. "Yea," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel the heat of her cheeks flushing as she avoided eye contact.

Mary sighed and nodded, but then stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand gently on Nova's forehead, checking her temperature. "Get some rest sweetheart, it will do you good," she said softly, though there was something in her expression that made Nova feel uneasy. It wasn't just worry—it was deeper, a helplessness.

That night, after Mary had gone to bed, Nova lay awake staring at the ceiling. She kept looking over at her reflection in the mirror, expecting the red glow to return. When it did, she closed the mirror and pulled her blanket up tight, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong.

But deep down, she felt that something unnatural was happening to her. She was never one to complain, though, and didn't want to cause anyone unnecessary worry. Instead, she focused on the upcoming trip—a weekend getaway to the mountains with her parents.

They'd planned it weeks ago, hoping to escape the chaos of work and school for a few days. Her father had insisted it would do them all some good, and Nova couldn't deny the idea of fresh air and quiet was tempting. Still, a part of her wondered if the change of scenery would bring answers or just more questions.

She drifted off to sleep, her mind tangled with thoughts of crisp mountain air, long hikes, and the strange, restless heat beneath her skin.

The next morning, Mary and John packed up their car for their trip, a family tradition they'd kept alive since Nova was a little girl. The drive was quiet, filled with the hum of tires on winding roads and the occasional chirping of birds through the open windows The sun was bright, and the air smelled of pine and fresh mountain air.

When they arrived, the lake shimmered under the bright sunlight, surrounded by towering pines that filled the air with their sharp, earthy scent. Nova walked ahead of her parents along the worn path toward the water, trying to shake the unease curling in her chest.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as the strange heat returned, pulsing under her skin like a warning. She glanced back at her parents, their easy laughter and relaxed smiles at odds with the tension she felt building inside her.

It should have been comforting to be here, in a place so familiar, but for the first time, Nova felt out of sync with the world around her.

As they reached the edge of the lake, Nova stopped suddenly, her breath catching in a strangled gasp as a sharp pain seared through her chest. Her knees buckled slightly, and she pressed a hand against her ribcage, as if she could force the pain away.

"Nova?" Mary's voice was sharp, laced with panic.

Both of her parents rushed toward her, their footsteps quick and heavy against the gravel path. Mary's hands were on her shoulders in an instant, steadying her, while John crouched slightly to look her in the eye.

"What's wrong? Talk to us!" John demanded, his voice calm but urgent.

Nova shook her head, trying to catch her breath. "I'm fine," she managed to gasp, though her trembling hands betrayed her. She wasn't fine, and they all knew it.

Nova doubled over, clutching at her chest as tears blurred her vision. She could feel something inside her snapping, breaking away from the control she had tried to maintain. And then, it was gone—replaced by an overwhelming rush of power that left her shaking to her core.

Pain erupted through Nova's body, violent and all-consuming. She screamed, but the sound twisted into something raw and guttural as her bones shattered and reformed. Her spine arched unnaturally, and fur spread across her skin in a suffocating wave.

Her parents rushed closer, calling her name, their voices frantic. "Nova! What's happening? Stay with us!"

But she couldn't answer. Her jaw stretched painfully, elongating into a muzzle, and her claws tore deep gouges into the earth as her limbs thickened and contorted.

The air was heavy with the scent of fear, their fear, sharp and overwhelming. She tried to push them back, to warn them somehow, but the beast inside her surged forward, instincts drowning out her thoughts.

A violent jerk of her body sent her parents reeling back, but not far enough. When the transformation completed, her massive form surged upward, towering over them. One desperate, uncontrolled movement—claws slicing through the air—and the smell of blood filled her senses.

She froze, her glowing eyes locking onto their still forms. The realization hit her like a blow. They were too close, and she had been too far gone to stop it.

But it wasn't intentional. The pain had been too much, too overwhelming. She couldn't stop herself as turned, her newfound strength and speed leaving no room for hesitation.

When it was over, Nova stood trembling amidst the wreckage of her family's love and trust. Her limbs felt strange again, the fur receded and claws dulled back into shaking hands. She collapsed to her knees, her breath ragged, the cold air biting against her now bare skin. Her parents lay still, their lifeless eyes staring up at her. Blood stained the earth around them, the scent still sharp in the air, and she couldn't look away from the deep gashes carved into their bodies—her doing. Horror and guilt consumed her as the weight of what she'd done settled in.

She ran.

The cold night air bit at her skin as she sprinted into the woods behind the cabin, her bare feet pounding against the earth. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. Her parents were gone, and it was her fault. She was a monster, and there was no going back.

Nova didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to get as far away as possible. The forest seemed to embrace her, its shadows offering a semblance of safety. She collapsed under the canopy of trees, her body trembling from exhaustion and grief.

Alone and afraid, Nova gazed up at the moon. Its light bathed her in a silvery glow, and for the first time, she felt a strange sense of belonging. The moon seemed to call to her, to soothe her in her anguish. But it couldn't erase what had happened. Nothing could.

As she drifted into a restless sleep, Nova's mind raced with questions. What was she? Why had this happened to her? And most importantly, how was she supposed to survive now?

The answers would come in time, but for now, all she had was the darkness and the haunting echo of her parents' final screams.