Moon Lovers 1(4)

“Clean it off,” I ordered him.

He shrugged, walked over to the sink and let his finger sit under a steady stream of tap water. The water rinsed away the dried blood and revealed. . .nothing. Well, there was skin, but no cut beneath the blood. “See? I just thought I cut myself.”

This man was getting stranger and stranger. “You sure sounded convinced,” I countered.

“Um, April Fool’s?”

“It’s October.”

“Trick-or-treat?”

“I told you I don’t like surprises.”

“Well, um, how about some of my Surprise Juice?” He whipped around, shoved the fruit into the blender and whirled it around for a few seconds. Whatever he’d put into the machine made for a wine-colored concoction that had a funny smell to it. Garrison took off the blender container, grabbed a tall glass, poured out the thick contents and held it out to me.

I looked from the glass up to his face. “This some kind of poison?”

This was one service with a smile that I didn’t trust. “I guarantee you’ll like it.”

“I think I’ve lost my appetite that I told you I didn’t have.”

“It’s not poison. See?” He lifted the glass to his lips and drank a sip, then rubbed his stomach. “Mhm, good. Now you try it.” He held out the glass to me again.

I sighed. “If I drink this will you promise to let me get some sleep?”

“I promise to let you get some sleep,” he swore. I grabbed the drink, plugged my nose and downed the contents in a few gulps. It had a tangy flavor with a hint of rust. Then I handed back the empty glass and frowned when my stomach gurgled. Before I could stop myself I’d let out a gigantic belch that blew Garrison away. “Wow! That was a good one!”

“Compliments later, getting out now,” I reminded him.

“All right, but you’re missing out on a killer omelet I could make for tomorrow’s breakfast,” he teased.

I walked around the kitchen bar, got behind him and shoved him into the living room and at the door. “I’m sure I’ll survive a morning without your omelet.” I’d probably end up surviving a lifetime without his cooking.

“Then I guess I’ll see you-” He didn’t get a chance to finish because I shoved him out into the hall and slammed the door behind him. I leaned my back up against the door and sighed. That’s when I heard a knock from the other side. I rolled my eyes, turned around and opened the door a crack. Garrison’s sheepish grin greeted me. “Don’t forget to give back my shirt.” I growled, slammed the door shut, and marched off to bed. I’d had one hell of a day.





4





I don’t know what was in Garrison’s Surprise Juice, but whatever it was gave me some strange dreams. I dreamed I stood in the middle of an open field full of thick, tall grass, and all around the meadow were pine trees. Somehow I knew I was in a deep forest, and high overhead sat the bright full moon. I couldn’t take my eyes off that beautiful glowing orb in the sky, and the longer I stared at it the hotter I felt. My hands reached up and tugged at my clothes, gently at first but it quickly became a furious, desperate tearing.

I fell to my knees when the change started. My fingers lengthened and sharpened to dangerous points, and my muscles tightened. My breasts swelled and pushed through the tattered remains of my shirt, baring themselves to the dark world. I groaned as my pants tore open at the seams and my shoes split in half to reveal clawed feet. Soft fur sprouted from my body, but by then I couldn’t feel anything but the heat welling up inside of me. It was unbearable and so full of lust it nearly drove me mad. I fell back on the thick grass and squirmed on the ground, pleading and moaning for something to come and fulfill my need.

As I lay there helpless and hot, a shadow fell over me. I looked up and saw a figure silhouetted against the night sky with their back to the moon. They were tall and muscular, and a pair of red eyes stared back at me with as much lust as I felt for them. It was the person from the basement, but now I knew it wasn’t a person. This was a feral animal, and I was what it sought to satiate its own desires. It swooped down atop me and I screamed.

I jolted up in bed and looked wildly about my room. Everything down to the troll doll on the dresser was as it should have been, but I was covered in sweat. I brushed my hand through my soaked hair and gasped for breath. That dream had felt so real I swore someone had been in my room. That’s when I felt a soft, cool breeze sweep over my wet body, and I glanced over to the window. It was open. I never left it open. Too great a chance somebody would sneak in and steal my troll doll.

I swung my legs out of bed and shakily made my way over to the window. It wasn’t open very far, and I leaned out to see if I could find a reason for it being open. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow flit around the side of the building, and for a brief moment I thought maybe the Bandanna Gang had come for me. Then I remembered that if they had come for me I wouldn’t be talking to myself right then, or anyone else later, for that matter. They would have killed me deader than a squirrel on a freeway.

I shut and locked my window, and glanced at the time. Half past god-awful early, but I knew I wasn’t going to get any more sleep that night so I dressed and fed myself. The confines of my apartment felt stuffy and dark, so I crept out into the hall and-

“You’re up early.” I jumped so high my hair brushed the eight-foot ceiling. When I touched back down I whirled around to find Garrison standing there with a smirk on his face.

“Don’t do that!” I scolded him in a hushed whisper.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I sighed, and closed and locked my door behind me. “You apologize a lot, you know that?”

“I’m-”

“-sorry. I know.” I rubbed my eyeballs and he stepped up beside me with a worried expression.

“Is everything all right?” he asked me.

I shook my head, paused, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Just bad dreams and my window disobeying me by not staying shut.”

“Did you want me to take a look?” Garrison suggested.

“Sure, why not?” I unlocked the door and let him in.

“Which window is it?” he wondered.

I nodded at the bedroom. “The one in there with the great view of the alley.” Garrison went into the bedroom and I followed. Thankfully I was a clean person and left no lingerie-preference hints lying around. Garrison checked the window and knocked on the lock with his fist. “Is it terminal, doc?” I asked him.

He smirked. “I can save it, but this has been a lingering illness for a while, even before you moved in. It’s going to take a lot of elbow grease and luck for the lock to pull through.”

“Do whatever you can, but spare the expenses. I don’t get paid until next week,” I replied.

“It’s on the house. That is, included in your rent,” he reminded me.

“Oh, right.”

“Anything else you want help with?”

“Know any good bodyguards who’ll work for donuts?”

“If they work for donuts I wouldn’t hire them, but isn’t it a little early to be worried about the Bandanna Bandits?” he joked.

I shrugged. “I feel kind of uneasy right now, like I’m all tight and tense inside.”

“Have you tried exercises?”

“It’s not my guts hurting me, it’s my head.”

“Lobotomy?”

“Too old-fashioned. Besides, it’s more like something’s not quite right with everything around me rather, than me. You know, like it’s stuffy in the rooms and I just want a breath of fresh air.”

Garrison rubbed his chin in one hand and glanced up at the ceiling. “I think I might have a remedy for that.”

“Where? In the ceiling?”

“Come with me.” He gently grabbed my hand and led me out of my apartment. We traveled to the top floor and down the hall to the far end of the apartment building. In the ceiling was a trap door with a short string attached to a ring. It was a good eight feet up there, and I didn’t see a ladder.

“Need to use me as a stepping stool?” I suggested. He jumped up and easily grasped the tiny bit of string, which he then dragged down with him along with a flight of narrow wooden stairs. “I stand corrected, and flabbergasted. How’d you learn to jump so high?”

“I eat my Wheaties every morning.”

“With jumping beans?”

“Beans and I have an agreement to disagree with each other, so we’re not on speaking terms.” He led the way up the creaky old stairs, and I paused when I peeked my head over the floor. We were under the peaked roof of the building, and judging by the thick layer of strata over the shroud-covered furniture and boxes a scientist could carbon-date the building to the age of Really-old. The only sign of life was a path leading from the staircase to a door in the middle of the single long room. Garrison stood beside the door. “You’ve gone too far down the rabbit hole to turn back now,” he teased.

“Maybe this bunny wants to keep all its feet,” I quipped, but I went over to him.

Garrison grasped the knob, but gave me a stern look. “You can come up here as often as you like, but don’t tell anyone else you’re up here.”