CURSED BY THE MOON

“P-please no.” I whispers with my breath going into the pillows as my face twists in painful desperation. I am in my bed, cold sweat leaking from my pores as I subconsciously cling to my sheets like it is the only support mechanism I have. It is a nightmare. A part of me knows that it is one of many nightmares and yet it does not stop my anguish as I relieve painful memories I have no choice but to hold on to. The sounds of wood and bones breaking, a sharp smell of something burning, deafening flashes of light backed up by the tension of watching a story that you know would end horribly. My fingers grips even tighter into my sheet and cold sweat soaks my hair with my pain obvious at a single glance. If it is somehow not obvious at this point then I would tell you very plainly. I am desperate, I am in agony and I am falling apart. I whimper like I am begging but I am not struggling for myself as my eyelids shuts down even tighter as if I am trying to avoid seeing something that would shatter me. With the sudden intensity of lightning, my eyes suddenly snaps open alongside a gasp for air as I push myself up in panic. My eyes are moist, my breaths loud and heavy and my body is truly shaking. It looks like I am about to drown in panic and in response I pull my knees into my chest out of instinct of past traumas. My body shakes and I ball up with a whimper breaking free from my lungs. I try to settle myself but with every turn my mind flashes images of the scenes I had seen in my nightmare. Strength comes from knowing I have been through nights like this and my will hardens because I have survived nights like this. The trembling slowly stops, the whimpers gets swallowed and then I slowly lift my head with my hand going for the bedside switch. A push illuminates the room and the sudden brightness makes my eyes squint as my brain rings a horrible hum that blurs my sight. Annoyance creeps into my mind with the buzz replacing a measure of my anxiety as I fight the pain running through my head while re-orienting myself to reality. It takes a second but my vision slowly clears and my expression comes out as exhausted as I look around my room. If my room is to be summarized in three words it would be modern, white and classy-luxury. Broad spaces, high-end furnitures and satin curtains hiding a wide balcony with the city’s view. With my mind still heavy from the strain of my nightmare, staying still just would not work for me. My body responds a bit slowly as I pull my bedsheets off my legs and place my feet on the floor. The tiles are cold as they should be and the sensation of chill gets me grounded as I slowly walk towards my balcony with each step forward reminding me of my past, reminding me about memories that had scarred me into living through nightmares like tonight. In thin sleep wears, I pull apart the satin curtains and finally I stands on my balcony and I look first towards the city. Most would see buildings, skyscrapers and different shades of light that shows a very active nightlife but years of being at the top gives you a different perspective. Instead of buildings I see the powers behind them, instead of skyscrapers I see tall egos, instead of light I see secrets and behind that 'active nightlife' I see a cloak that deceives the mundane. It is quite an intimidating view but it is one I have gotten used to with a decade of practice. In silence my eyes slowly cranks up to the night sky and my reddened gaze finds the silver moon. The world may be ugly but it is a beautiful night. The stars are few but bright and the darkness is not heavy because the moon has decided to shine brightly and boldly. It is a full moon tonight. My right fist slowly clenches as I look to the moon with my eyes burning with HATRED as cold wind sweeps through my thin robes. I don’t feel the cold. Not when I am frozen in the past like right now. I may not remember a lot from that night but I remember that howl. I remember the terror in my mother’s eyes as she looked at the full moon and I remember my father’s anxiety as he loaded his gun with silver bullets. Looking at the moon, I find my eyes moistening as my fist clenches even tighter. I remember the creature in the dark and I remembers my mother’s voice telling me something followed by a scream of terror!. My father who is the strongest man I have ever known had screamed in mind twisting agony and.. the rest is empty. A buzz of pain ripples through my head as I silently try to remember my fragmented memories though the physical pain of trying to remember is nothing compared to the pain of not knowing. Why were my parents being hunted?, How did I survive?, Why can’t I remember?!. I stare silently at the moon for a few more minutes and then I take my eyes away before slowly going back into my room. Piece by piece, I peel my clothes off my body as I walk into the bathroom while recalling all I know about the underworld. They exist. Beyond the veil of the natural the supernatural exist and I am certain about this because the supernatural took everything from me. I know they exist because I have been looking for them all my life and because- I am one of them!. The bath is running fast and I slip into the warm water as I try to settle my mind. There is no one to teach me about who I am or about the world beyond but experience has taught me a few key points. The world of the supernatural is cruel and veiled. I have tracked down their traces and they all smell of blood, mystery with flares of chaos. Eleven years of tracking down a world that wants to remain hidden and nothing to show for it. Most would have given up. Most people would have moved on but I am incapable of living like I am not aware of the world beyond. I am not going to live like the world beyond does not owe me answers, like they don’t owe me blood!. Soaking in the warm bath helps me settle my mind as I stare into nothingness. Physically I feel weightless but mentally I am barely afloat. Almost an hour passes and I stay in the waters with my thoughts settling from chaos to less chaos. I eventually pull myself out of the waters and then I step out of my bathroom wrapped in a towel. Despite my mental exhaustion, it is highly unlikely that I would be able to get any rest tonight. I walk out of my bathroom and I begin putting on my underwear when I see my phone buzzing on my bed-side cabinet. There are few people that would call me this late at night and every time it happens there is bad news to be heard. A part of me does not want to but willpower makes me walk to pick up the line though it cuts off before I reach to my device. One look at the caller’s ID and I know who is calling and it is someone I would never ignore. “Six missed calls?.”, I whisper in confusion as I look at my screen. Probably bad news, I think to myself but after considering the fact that he would rather call me that handle it like he mostly does then I can only prepare for the worse with a frown creeping on my face. Another call comes in with the same ID and I don’t hesitate to pick up. "Damian?".