His Cursed Luna

Chapter 2

Astrid's POV

Mom's body had been taken by the police for autopsy, and I anxiously awaited the results. However, when they finally came back, they claimed that my mother had been killed by a wild boar. But deep down, I could sense that they were lying.

"You expect me to believe that it was a wild boar?" I challenged the officer handling my mother's case, staring directly into his eyes.

"We made a mistake, Astrid. Upon further examination of the footprints, we discovered that they matched the size of your mother's feet," he tried to reason, leaving me even more bewildered.

"You're not telling the truth," I uttered, fixing my gaze firmly on him.

"The case is closed. Your mother's body will be buried in the local cemetery tomorrow morning," he stated, then abruptly left, leaving me with a multitude of unanswered questions.

"I'll find the answers myself, then," I vowed to myself.

Leaving the morgue behind, I drove back to our house, only to find it completely cleaned up.

There was no trace of my mother's blood on the floor. I stood by the entrance, surveying our empty home.

"What will happen to me now, Mom?" I whispered through tears streaming down my face, like cascading waterfalls.

Seeking solace, I collapsed onto the couch, clutching a pillow tightly to my chest, pouring out my heartache while reminiscing about my brutally slain mother, whose killer or what had inflicted the wounds remained unnamed.

Amidst my tearful mourning, I heard a loud thud coming from the kitchen, causing fear to crawl into every fibre of my being. Yet, I mustered the courage to approach the source of the sound.

With cautious steps, I walked towards the kitchen, scanning it's every nook and cranny, but I found nothing.

"Who's there?!" I shouted, my voice echoing into emptiness.

"Reveal yourself, damn it!" I demanded, met only with silence.

As I continued to explore the kitchen, my gaze fixated on a peculiar creaking sound, compelling me to investigate further.

Bending down, I inspected the wooden floor, rapping my knuckles against its surface. To my surprise, a hidden door revealed itself.

"We have a basement?" I pondered, perplexed by this newfound discovery.

Despite the intensifying fear within me, curiosity overwhelmed my senses. Determined, I decided to descend into the unknown.

Each step I took upon the staircase emitted a creaking sound as if threatening to give way beneath my weight. My heartbeat thundered in my chest, and my breaths grew heavy.

Using my phone as a flashlight, I carefully set foot on the basement floor.

Darkness enveloped the space, and the only source of light is my phone.

With a dry gulp, I ventured further, scanning the basement's corners.

It was a trove of forgotten antiques, covered in layers of dust.

My mother had never mentioned this hidden sanctuary to me before. It was as if she had kept it a secret.

Amongst the relics, a weathered book caught my attention. I wiped away the dust that coated its surface.

"Propheteia," I read aloud, the word engraved on the front page.

Upon flipping the page I saw words written in different language.

viae nunquam traiicere

vinculum incendet bellum

Ad pacem conservandam pereundum est

Unable to understand the text, I reluctantly let go of the book and continued exploring the basement.

My attention was drawn to an object covered in white cloth. Pulling the cloth aside, I was met with my reflection.

As I stared into the mirror, my forehead furrowed in confusion, and suddenly, I noticed a pair of red eyes gazing back at me.

Startled, I swiftly turned around, searching for anyone else present, but found nothing.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice filled with fear, yet silence remained my only response.

"Who the hell are you?!" I cried out, frustration mingling with my tears.

Once again, silence enveloped me, but after a moment, a chilling breeze brushed against my body.

"Astrid," a cold voice whispered into my ear.

"Astrid,"

The voice was hauntingly familiar, reminiscent of the one that had plagued my dreams.

"Astrid," it whispered again.

"Who are you?!" I pleaded, my voice trembling.

I covered my ears, bracing myself for the impending torment.

"Astrid," it continued to call.

"Please, make it stop!" I begged, but the voice persisted.

My gaze returned to the mirror, where I saw my tear-streaked reflection, filled with despair. And once again, those crimson eyes stared back at me.

"Who are you?" I mustered the courage to ask, locking eyes with the enigmatic figure.

Unable to discern his face, I fixated on his red eyes, certain that they belonged to the owner of the voice that had haunted me.

"What do you want?" I inquired, my eyes never leaving his.

"I have been waiting for you," he replied, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

"Who are you?" I questioned once more, seeking an answer.

"I have been waiting for you, Astrid," he evaded my question.

"How do you know me?" I asked, our eyes locked in a silent struggle.

"Come with me, Astrid," he beckoned.

Lost and disoriented, I felt myself being hypnotized, my hand passing through the glass of the mirror.

In a moment of clarity, I pulled my hand back, retreating from the menacing mirror that threatened to consume me.

With the last ounce of strength, I fled the basement and sought refuge in my room, locking the door, hoping to keep the mysterious figure at bay.

Listening to the silence, I realized that his voice had finally ceased. I let out a deep breath, attempting to calm myself.

Making my way to the edge of my bed, I sat down, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling upon me. I stared up at the ceiling, my mind consumed by countless questions.

I could feel my sanity slipping away, threatened by the unexplained mystery of my mother's death and the appearance of this enigmatic man.

"What is happening to my life?" I pondered, my gaze fixated on nothingness.

Throughout the night, I remained awake, my eyes fixed upon the ceiling, afraid to close them, fearing that the mysterious figure would once again invade my dreams.

Startled by a knock on my door and the sound of a police officer calling my name,

"Astrid!" I jolted upright.

Forcing myself out of bed, I made my way to the door and opened it, revealing three police officers waiting outside.

"Good morning, Astrid," the officer in charge of my mother's case greeted me.

"Good morning, Officer," I responded.

"We will be holding a mass at a small church downtown, followed by your mother's burial at the cemetery," he informed me.

I scrutinized him intently.

"Why are you in such a hurry to bury my mom, Officer?" I questioned, determined to uncover the truth.

They had denied me the opportunity for a proper funeral, claiming it was unnecessary, but I knew they were hiding something.

The officer let out a deep sigh, meeting my gaze squarely.

"Astrid, a funeral is not necessary," he began, but I cut him off, tired of his evasions.

"Why? Because you're hiding something? Because the truth is my mother wasn't killed by a wild boar but by a creature like a werewolf?" I spoke, my voice lowered as I uttered the last words.

"Enough of this nonsense, Astrid," he retorted, dismissing my words.

But I wouldn't back down. I needed to know the truth.

"You asked me if I believe in werewolves officer, what if I told you that I now believed that they exist?" I asked.

The officer took a step closer making me took a step back.

He held my chin making me lock eyes with his.

"Because we do," and to my surprise his eyes suddenly turned yellow.

Glancing at the other officers, I noticed their eyes had changed too, blazing blue instead of their usual hue.

Without warning, the police officer seized my neck, choking the life out of me.

Dangling in the air, struggling to free myself from his grasp.

"L-let me go." I pleaded.

He forcefully threw me back into the house, splintering the wooden door. My fragile body collided with the wall, and I coughed up blood, feeling my strength fading.

"Who are you?" I managed to ask, my vision blurred.

The officer approached me, a sinister glint in his eyes, while the others stood by, observing my torment.

Gripping my chin, he forced me to meet his gaze.

I started coughing blood.

"Your existence will ignite a great war, Astrid. Your life must end, and anyone who tries to protect you will face death," he declared, his claws unsheathed.

Raising his hand, he drove his claws into my chest without hesitation, leaving a gaping wound.

As I crumpled to the floor, my life slipping away, my vision blurry, I saw them leave the house as if nothing had happened.

"Astrid," I heard his voice once again, just as I was about to close my eyes.

"Astrid," he called.

"S-Save m-me," I whispered weakly, using the last ounce of my strength.