Before The Awakening by Itoro Isaac

Here’s Episode One – “Before the Awakening” of your werewolf story, written with a moody, starry, and suspenseful tone, about 1500 words long: --- Episode One – Before the Awakening The town of Black Hollow slept under a quilt of stars, its narrow streets glowing faintly under the flicker of aging streetlamps. The clock tower at the heart of town chimed midnight, its hollow ring echoing through the valley, but Elara Duskbane was still wide awake. She stood by her bedroom window, staring at the woods beyond her backyard—the thick wall of pine and ash that seemed to breathe when the night grew quiet. The forest had always been her sanctuary and her mystery, a place that called to her even when she didn’t understand why. Tonight, the pull was worse. The moon was almost full, pale light dripping across the treetops like liquid silver. It wasn’t just beautiful; it was alive, almost humming. She pressed her palm against the glass as if she could reach through it. “Elara,” her mother’s voice drifted from the hallway, soft but urgent. “Close your window. It’s late.” Elara flinched and turned, catching her reflection in the mirror—dark curls tumbling around her face, amber-brown eyes wide and restless. She forced a smile before calling back, “I will in a minute.” She waited until her mother’s footsteps faded, then turned back to the forest. Something about that night felt… wrong. Or maybe not wrong, exactly. Different. --- By morning, the unease had dulled, though not enough to vanish. Black Hollow High was the same as always—buzzing with noise and laughter, the scent of cafeteria coffee lingering in the air. Elara wove her way through the hallways, hugging her sketchbook to her chest. People greeted her with the same polite smiles, the same half-curious glances. She’d never exactly blended in, but in a town where everyone’s family tree was planted in the same soil for centuries, being the “quiet girl who liked to draw” was the least interesting thing about her. “Elara!” She turned just in time to catch her best friend barreling toward her. Hazel, with her honey-blonde hair and a grin too wide for her face, skidded to a stop beside her. “You didn’t answer my texts last night,” Hazel accused, eyes bright with mock irritation. “Don’t tell me you were sketching until 3 a.m. again.” Elara smiled faintly. “Something like that.” Hazel narrowed her eyes, as though trying to see through the half-truth, but let it slide. “Whatever. Guess who’s transferring to Black Hollow High?” Elara raised an eyebrow. “If you say a celebrity, I’m leaving.” “Not a celebrity.” Hazel lowered her voice dramatically. “A boy. Mysterious. Totally out of nowhere. I saw him talking to Principal Hayes this morning. Tall. Broody. Definitely trouble.” Elara rolled her eyes, but Hazel’s grin only widened. “Just saying. Maybe this town will finally get interesting.” --- By lunch, Elara forgot about the conversation. She sat under her favorite tree near the edge of the school grounds, pencil scratching against paper as she sketched the curve of the moon over the Black Hollow forest. She’d been drawing it for weeks now—same glowing light, same strange shadows coiled beneath the trees. “Elara Duskbane.” The voice startled her. Low. Calm. Strange. She looked up—and froze. The boy standing in front of her wasn’t familiar, but something about him felt… ancient, like the forest itself. He was tall, lean but strong, with dark hair falling carelessly into golden eyes that almost seemed to glow under the midday sun. There was something sharp about him, dangerous, like a knife disguised as a smile. “You dropped this.” He held out a graphite pencil, the one that must have rolled off her sketchpad without her noticing. She hesitated before taking it, her fingers brushing against his. Cold. Too cold. “Thanks,” she murmured. For a moment, he studied her sketch—the way the moon bled silver into the trees, the jagged shadows curling like claws—and one corner of his mouth lifted, almost like a smirk. “You see it,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. Elara blinked. “See what?” But he didn’t answer. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students before she could say another word. --- That night, Elara dreamed again. The forest stretched endlessly, trees bending under the weight of a glowing moon. She ran barefoot through the dirt, her breath sharp in the icy air, her heart thundering like a drumbeat. Somewhere ahead, something howled—deep, haunting, and impossibly close. When she woke, the sound still echoed in her ears. --- The next week passed in fragments. Strange dreams. Flickers of gold in the corners of her vision. A constant hum in her veins, like her body was a radio tuned to the wrong frequency. By Friday, the tension in the air was impossible to ignore. The entire town felt restless—dogs barking at nothing, lights flickering, an unnatural chill clinging to the wind even in the late summer heat. Hazel noticed it too. “It’s the full moon,” she whispered during lunch, leaning across the table with wide eyes. “It always makes Black Hollow… weird. My grandma says it’s cursed, but you know how she is.” Elara tried to laugh it off, but her skin prickled. She hadn’t told anyone about the dreams. Or about the boy. Lucian. That’s what she’d heard someone call him in the hallway. Lucian Stormrider. Even his name sounded like something out of an old story. And he watched her. Always from a distance, always with that unreadable look in his golden eyes, as if he knew something she didn’t. --- Friday night, Elara sat in her backyard, sketchbook balanced on her knees. The moon was almost full, round and heavy in the sky, spilling silver light over everything. She didn’t hear him approach. “You shouldn’t be out here.” Elara startled, nearly dropping her pencil. Lucian stood at the edge of the yard, half-shadowed by the trees, his presence both terrifying and magnetic. “You—” She swallowed. “What are you doing here?” His gaze flicked to the forest behind her. “The woods aren’t safe tonight.” Elara forced a laugh. “You sound like my mom.” “I’m not your mom,” he said, voice sharp but quiet. “And I’m serious. Stay inside.” Something in his tone made her pulse trip. She wanted to ask why—wanted to demand an explanation—but then he was gone, melting into the darkness like smoke. --- She didn’t go inside. Not right away. Something deep in her chest ached, pulling her forward, urging her closer to the line of trees. She hesitated only for a moment before stepping into the forest, the cool night air wrapping around her like a whisper. The woods were alive. Leaves rustled even without wind, and shadows seemed to move just out of sight. She should have been afraid. Instead, her heartbeat steadied, her senses sharpening as though the forest was somehow hers. She walked deeper, guided by something she couldn’t name, until the trees opened into a small clearing bathed in moonlight. And that’s when she saw them. Wolves. Not the scrawny, half-wild animals that occasionally prowled near the outskirts of town, but wolves—massive, sleek, their fur glowing under the silver light. They circled silently, their eyes gleaming gold as they watched her. Her breath caught. She didn’t run. Couldn’t. Something in their gaze held her still, a silent recognition thrumming in the air. Then a howl split the night, low and powerful, echoing through the clearing. The wolves turned as one, heads bowed—not to her, but to the figure emerging from the trees. Lucian. His golden eyes locked on hers, sharp and unyielding. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said again, voice edged with something almost like fear. “I—” Elara’s voice shook. “What is this? What’s happening?” The air around them shifted, thick with something ancient and electric. The wolves closed in, not threatening, but protective, their formation tight as if guarding her. Lucian stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “You need to leave. Now. Before it starts.” “Before what starts?” she whispered. But before he could answer, the wind howled through the clearing, carrying with it a sound that made her blood run cold—another howl, distant but growing closer, sharper, hungrier. And for the first time that night, Elara felt fear.