The Blood Moon Awakening

The Awakening Under the Moon

“Alright,” she finally said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “We’re going to the library. I have to return a book, and it’s quite clear that you need a break from…whatever this is.” She gestured her hands vaguely as if to describe my current mood, and I managed to c***k a small smile. “Fine,” I replied, getting up and picking up my bag.

“But if I end up falling asleep while we’re there, it’s all your fault.” “Deal,” she responded, and we both left the classroom, joining the flow of people that flowed along the corridors. Locker doors were being shut loudly, voices overlapping each other, and somebody in the distance was laughing at something very hard, most likely not even funny.

Normal. Way too normal. The world was trying to convince me that everything was just fine.

The library was quiet, as usual. Once we had entered, the sound of the corridor became distant, drowned out by low mutterings and flipping pages. There was the familiar scent of books and some dust, but not in an unpleasant way.

I have never felt uncomfortable here; somehow, it always felt safe. Like no evil could befall you amidst shelves of books filled with all sorts of tales. Mia was going ahead of me straight to the desk for returns, whereas I took my sweet time among the rows of books touching the titles on their backs that ranged from history to science to literature until I reached the Fantasy section.

Sure. I stopped for a moment, looking at the shelves before taking one of the books in my hands. The cover of the book was dark, and there was a subtle image of a wolf under the shining moon. I nearly burst into laughter. “Oh, really?” I whispered to myself. Among all the books that could be selected, I chose just this one.

“Did you find something interesting?” asked Mia, who was standing right behind me. I turned around to look at her as she leaned on the bookshelf, smiling at me curiously. I showed her the book. “Just something to kill time,” I replied nonchalantly.

Mia’s face immediately brightened. “It’s a werewolf story!” she said, coming closer. “As you already know, I’m a fan of those.” I chuckled lightly. “I do know that.” Mia folded her arms and her enthusiasm couldn’t be disguised.

“But look, how about we pretend for a minute they actually exist,” she whispered. I rolled my eyes, though there was no trace of irritation in my heart. “There aren’t any werewolves, Mia,” I said, keeping the tone neutral. “It’s all fiction.” Mia shrugged carelessly. “Perhaps… but then again, we might have just missed the opportunity.”

I shook my head and turned away to open the book. “You’ve been spending too much time here,” I mumbled, although I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. That’s Mia for you. Forever curious. Ever ready to question the unknown.

sat at one of the desks near the window. The rain outside had become less fierce but was still gently tapping on the windows in a rhythmic manner.

I inhaled deeply before opening the book in front of me. I found myself lost in its pages instantly, as I do with all books. The beauty of reading is that you lose yourself within the stories.

The sounds around you become silent, your worries drift away, and for a moment, you only exist in that place. I started reading slowly, allowing the story to seep into my mind. It was about a young woman and her mysterious powers. She lived in a different world that was foreign to her.

My brow furrowed slightly, re-reading some of the sentences. There was something about it that seemed…too familiar to me. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, trying to shake off the weird sensation creeping up in me again.

I turned the page.

And then it got stronger.

My fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the book as a strange warmth spread through me, starting in my chest and moving outward. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t normal either. My heart began to beat faster, and I could hear it in my ears, loud and uneven.

I glanced around quickly, but everything looked the same. Students reading. Someone whispered near the shelves. The librarian typing quietly at the desk. Nothing strange.

Nothing out of place. “Okay… relax,” I whispered under my breath, closing the book halfway. It’s just a book. Just your imagination. That’s all. But the feeling didn’t go away. If anything, it stayed, low and steady, like something waiting.

“Lyra?” I snapped out of my reverie at Mia’s voice. She was now seated opposite me, her eyebrows drawn together. “You have been looking at that page for like five minutes,” she noted. I stared down at my book before meeting her gaze again. “Oh… yes.