Blood Red Moon

Whatever animal was in the bush, Meredith didn't wait to see it. She ran as fast as she could away from it; however, her pencil skirt limited her movements, and she cursed under her breath. She wanted to turn back to see if she was being chased, but at the same time, she was afraid to see what the creature might look like.

Then there it was—Meredith could hear thudding beside her own feet and heart. Someone or something was chasing her now.

"Fuck," Meredith loudly cursed. "Leave me alone. I won't taste good," she pleaded, which sounded stupid even to herself.

As if her situation weren't dire enough, the moon started changing colors. From the iridescent white that had been helping her see where she was running, it started turning bloody red, painting the forest eerily.

Thankfully, whoever was chasing her stopped. Meredith thanked the moon as she continued running away, even with limited vision. However, a voice echoed, begging and pleading.

"Wait," a male voice called out to her.

Meredith had had enough of male interactions today, but the sound of pleading was so evident in his voice that she couldn't help but stop and turn.

There, she saw a man—not an animal, but no, he had animal ears, the same pair that Meredith had seen hiding in the bushes. He also had sharp claws that were holding his bloody waist. His silver hair stuck to his face, and his blue eyes were clearly in pain.

"What are you?" Meredith wondered out loud. She started slowly approaching him, knowing that the man was wounded.

Upon closer inspection, the man was standing tall even though he was leaning down in pain. His body was muscular but currently beaten, with wounds evident on it.

Meredith felt bad; she wanted to help him. She remembered when she had been stabbed and was alone—it felt horrible dying with nobody to comfort you.

The other man hissed, his sculpted face shining under the red moonlight.

"I need you to come with me." He extended his non-bloody hand as if Meredith would jump easily into a random animal-man hybrid's arm.

Meredith shook her head, too stunned to reply. The situation in front of her was straight out of a fictional book.

The man winced in pain as he clutched his side harder. "Please," he begged.

Meredith wasn't going to be soft this time. She had had enough of pleasing people in her job, and starting today, she would assert her dominance.

"I don't know you or what you are," she stated as she raised her stilettos again for defense.

"I'm a werewolf," the man replied, though his voice was starting to get coarse. "My name is Rieka Altalune, and I need you to come with me."

A werewolf? Meredith was truly dead, and for some reason, she wasn't resting in peace. This was just her hallucination. Werewolves didn't exist, and they definitely didn't need Meredith to come with them.

"What do you need from me?" Meredith asked, curiosity gnawing at her.

She thought she might as well entertain the idea of werewolves; it wasn't like she had anything to lose by talking to Rieka, and the man had animal ears, and claws for fuck's sake.

"You're the one from the prophecy," Rieka slumped down to the ground, tired from standing and still bleeding.

Meredith felt pity for him, but she didn't understand what the man meant by 'the one from the prophecy.' She was just your normal wage slave—slaving from 9 to 5 and then wasting her life away in front of her phone when she got back home.

Her phone! Meredith completely forgot about the device. She couldn't live without it, but it seemed that no mortal possessions had come with her, aside from her work clothes, when she died.

Before she got distracted, she approached Rieka and awkwardly hovered over him. She didn't have any idea how to perform first aid, and if she ever did, she didn't have the materials for it. All she could do was distract the man from the pain by talking to him.

"Uhm…" Meredith trailed off. Rieka might have been hallucinating because of blood loss. "We should focus on your wounds first."

Rieka then grabbed her wrist with his non-bloody hand and pulled Meredith down with him. Meredith shrieked and dropped her defensive weapon—her shoes—in the process.

Rieka's sharp claws scratched Meredith's arm a bit. The pain shot through her, and it made her think this wasn't a dream—or if she was dreaming, it was a high-quality one. Rieka leaned in, face to face with her. "I beg you, come with me, or I'll have to use force."

Meredith tried to shake his grip, but even wounded, Rieka was strong, and her poor arm was losing circulation.

"I don't wanna," Meredith resisted. She didn't know the guy, and now he was starting to scare her again. Meredith was regretting approaching him. "I will help you, but I won't come with you."

"I don't need help, I'm fine," Rieka insisted.

Meredith decided to poke his wounded waist, and Rieka loosened his grip on her hand, but still kept it.

"Let me go, or I'll poke you harder," Meredith threatened. She wasn't going down without a fight this time. She had already experienced the pain of dying, and she didn't want to experience it again.

"Just come with me," Rieka grunted as he pulled Meredith close to his body.

Meredith screamed at the sudden movement. She resisted Rieka by hitting him on his shoulders, but the man wouldn't budge.

"Let me go!" she yelled at him.

Before Rieka could reply and continue manhandling Meredith, rustling could be heard from the bushes nearby, and footsteps were getting closer to their location.

"They're here, we need to go." Rieka lifted Meredith, completely forgetting he was wounded. It was evident that the man was now running on adrenaline.

Meredith shrieked again.

"Let her go!" Another man's voice echoed.

Meredith didn't know if she was glad someone was going to save her, or if it was another troublesome person.