Moon beyond The Veil

CHAPTER ONE THE PHOTOGRAPH Lyra Moonlight. It spilled across the ground, washing everything in a pale glow that felt both familiar and impossibly distant. White petals drifted lazily through the air. I couldn’t tell where they came from. There were no trees. No wind. Just an endless shower of white, each petal brushing against my skin before dissolving into nothing. My feet moved without sound. Bare against cool stone. Or grass. I couldn’t tell. The world refused to stay still long enough for me to understand it. A hand found mine. Warm. Strong. Comforting. Whoever walked beside me never spoke. Neither did I. Words felt unnecessary. A soft laugh drifted through the night. Low. Gentle. The kind of laugh that made the corners of my mouth lift before I even realized I was smiling. I knew that laugh. I just couldn’t remember why. I turned my head, desperate to see the face beside me. But… nothing. The closer I looked, the more the features dissolved, as though the night itself refused to let me see. Frustration tightened in my chest. I squeezed the hand holding mine. It squeezed back. My breath caught. A white petal landed across our joined hands. Another followed. Then another. The petals no longer drifted. They fell. Fast. Too fast. The silver light dimmed. Warm fingers began to slip from mine. No… I tightened my grip. Please. The hand slipped away anyway. Cold rushed in to take its place. The petals darkened. White became crimson. One by one, they scattered across the ground like drops of blood. Somewhere in the distance, something howled. Not with rage. With grief. I tried to run toward the sound. My legs wouldn’t move. The moon above me cracked the sky with a streak of silver light. Everything shattered. I woke with a gasp. My phone vibrating violently across the nightstand. Reality crashed into me all at once,dragging me out of yet another strange dream. I touched my face, damp with tears, Again. I stared at the ceiling. Can I just have one normal morning?. Wiping away my tears, I grabbed my phone blaring the familiar guitar melody I’d been too lazy to change, from my nightstand. The name’Hayes’ flashed across the screen, jolting me fully awake. I pressed the phone to my ear. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He drawled. “I’ve been calling you for ten minutes.” ”Yeah, yeah. Out with it Hayes. What have you got for me” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and rolled onto my back. “You little s**t…” Hayes muttered.” Remember those animal attacks you’ve been obsessed with?” “Yeah?” I perked up. “Well, the boys at the precinct just got another call, and this one doesn’t look like the others“. “Really?” I asked. ”Well, you should’ve led with that!!!, I’m on my way, send me the location , what would I do without you Hayes?” “Don’t you dare hang-” He said before I cut the call. The call ended before I could squeeze another word out of him. Typical Hayes. I tossed the phone onto the bed and hurried toward the bathroom . Seriously though, what would I do without him. Ever since Hayes started feeding me tips in exchange for coffee and expensive donuts, my job at the Ashwood Chronicle has never been better. Granted, my boss still found new reasons to threaten my job every other week, at least I’m no longer invisible. Every reporter at the Ashwood Chronicle wanted the same thing- front-page bylines. Miss one story and someone else would gladly take your place. And according to my boss.. ”Lyra, sweetheart, sweet isn’t gonna cut it for me here,if you wanna keep your job here, something has to shake” and shake it did. Three months later,my byline was suddenly everywhere. After I’ve had my shower, I put on a simple tank top and jeans from my dresser and paired it with my favorite jacket. My notebook sat open beneath three empty coffee mugs. Loose pages covered half the desk, and my laptop was still glowing from the report I’d abandoned sometime after midnight. Sighing, I picked up the notebook from the table, and write: “Petals” “Moonlight” “Warm hand” I hesitated. “Grief” I stared at the last word, Why did I write that?. Flipping through the previous pages, there were dates, sometimes months apart,fragments of my dreams I hoped would make sense one day. My phone vibrated with a text,snapping me out of my musings: the location.Smiling,I picked up my car keys and took one last look at my apartment,before I left. Newspapers spilled across my coffee table,buried beneath half-finished notes and empty mugs. My laptop sat open where I’d abandoned it sometime after midnight. My mother would faint if she saw the state of this apartment. I got out of my car at the location Hayes sent me, unease settled low in my stomach. Even in broad daylight, something about the clearing felt…wrong. I scanned the place, noting which officers looked nervous, how no one’s talking to the media, something just felt different. Coming closer, there was a police tape surrounding the clearing with a bunch of police officers, a medical examiner and a photographer snapping away at what looks to be…a human body. “Bennett, I was wondering how long it’d take before you showed up.” Detective Roger folded his arms. “Well, good morning to you too, detective.” “It was, until you got here” he said with a deadpan expression. “You stay where I can see you, you touch nothing, you print nothing until I say so, got it?” “Got it” I said, nodding and smiling. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “One day…”, he muttered.” One day you’ll actually listen.” Before he can change his mind,I ducked beneath the tape,” No promises.” Looking around, I could see why everyone was so tense, unlike the other animal attacks that’s been happening around town lately, where people have been reporting animals dying in the strangest way. A white sheet covered most of the victim, but one pale hand rested outside the fabric, fingers curled as though they’d clawed at the earth. My eyes searched for the obvious. Blood. There wasn’t any. That made my stomach twist more than if there had been. Then- deep claw marks in nearby trees,far too high up for any normal animal. That was weird. Officers whispered in hushed voices. I noted these down in my notebook. Walking back, I noticed there was a man talking to the police, looking quite odd, I’m assuming he was the witness. His overalls were stained with mud,hands shaking around the brim of his hat, he refused to look toward the clearing. “Here I was, going about my business, collecting firewood, when I seen this young lady lying around, all dead.” The man says with a heavy southern accent. “And you didn’t see anything, hear anything?” Detective Roger waved another officer over. “Nah, I'm telling you, I ain’t seen nothing, just told Missy to go ring the police up that’s about all.” “Missy? And that’s your…..” “My niece, she lives with me, I went home and told her what to do.” “Why did you go home first, why didn’t you call the police yourself or come down to the station to report it yourself.” While the interrogation continued, I paused, the hairs on the back of my neck lifted. My eyes searched the area. Nothing. So I turned back. Then something caught my eye. Coming closer, I saw a single photograph fluttering beneath my windshield wiper. I pulled the photograph free. Grainy. Slightly blurred. Someone had taken it from a distance, it showed the entrance to a forest. Nothing else. My stomach tightened. I turned it over. Three words. Written in thick black ink. If you keep digging… My pulse skipped. They’ll find you first. My fingers tightened around the photograph. For one impossible moment… I couldn’t breathe. I looked up. The crowd hadn’t changed. Cars. Officers. Crime scene tape. Whoever had left the photograph was already gone.