The Human Luna

Chapter Two – An Old Acquaintance

*Shannon’s POV*

We left the restaurant after what might genuinely have been the best burger I’ve ever tasted, laughing so hard my stomach ached. Meygan was mid-rant about the latest prank war with her brother. Last year he shaved her eyebrows off and she’d been stuck with the nickname Winnie the Pooh for weeks. She took it better than anyone else could have, and I couldn’t help but admire her for it.

Still giggling, we turned the corner—straight into what felt like a brick wall. My legs flew out from under me and I landed hard on the concrete. For a second, all I could do was stare up in stunned silence. Then I realised it wasn’t a wall at all. It was a man.

Tall. Broad. Too perfect. He wore a navy suit over a pale blue shirt, his mousy-brown hair tied back in a messy bun, a shadow of stubble along his jaw like he’d shaved only yesterday. His presence was overwhelming—commanding—and for a moment I just stared, my breath caught in my chest.

“Watch where you’re going!” Meygan snapped, already shoving at his arm.

But I barely heard her. When he crouched and offered me his hand, the world narrowed to the heat of his palm against mine. His eyes—deep, molten brown—locked on mine, pulling me in with a strange familiarity I couldn’t place.

“I know you…” The words escaped before I could stop them.

Something flickered across his expression. Recognition? Shock? He straightened, jaw tightening, but said nothing.

“You could have hurt her!” Meygan shoved at him again, bristling like a terrier.

“Hey, it’s fine.” I caught her arm gently, forcing a shaky laugh. “It was my fault. I wasn’t looking. Thank you—for helping me up.”

His lips curved, not into a smile but something sharper, almost a smirk. My stomach twisted. Why was I nervous? Why did it feel like I should know him?

The wind picked up suddenly, tugging at my damp hair. The air grew colder, heavier—the first warning of a storm. When I looked back at him, his eyes had changed. Black. Not brown. Not human. I blinked and they were normal again. My pulse stuttered.

Had I imagined it?

He muttered something too low for me to catch. Before I could ask, the man beside him—shorter, though equally built—spoke quickly.

“Apologies. We’ve got to be going.”

The first man’s gaze lingered on me as his companion tugged him away, his body resisting as if he didn’t want to leave. Then the rain came, fast and sharp, and Meygan dragged me laughing back to the car. By the time we got to the car we were soaked through, it was easier to laugh than to question the unease gnawing at me.

We knew we would have to get home as fast as we could with the storm approaching.

The drive back felt longer than usual, the storm chasing us the whole way. The rain lashed angrily against the windscreen, the wipers struggling to keep up as flashes of lightning split the sky into jagged pieces. Meygan kept talking, teasing me about the way I’d stared at the stranger like some starstruck i***t, but her voice barely registered. My mind was fogged, the whole evening blurring into a haze I couldn’t quite hold onto — the only thing that cut through was the violent crash of thunder rolling overhead, each one striking through me like a reminder I couldn’t ignore. With each mile the storm grew fiercer, as though it knew something I didn’t.

By the time Meygan pulled up outside my house, the air felt heavy with warning. She gave me a quick hug and promised we’d go dress shopping again soon, before I braved the sheets of rain and dashed up the path. Stepping out of the car, I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something bad was going to happen — and for some reason, the memory of those dark, shifting eyes was right there with it.

I finally get through my front door only to be tackled by Emily - I swear she's going to be bigger than me by this time next year! She’s so tall, Clara is already taller than me; I honestly never thought I was short but now there's no doubt especially when your two younger sisters are taller than you.

“Shannonnnnn, could you straighten my hair pleaseeee?! Clara won’t do it! She said she has better things t— wait, why are you wet?” She stood back, brushing at herself like I’d just drenched her in dog fur. She’d developed a bit of an aversion to mess lately; Dad said it was puberty, but I couldn’t care less. She was still my Emily.

“There’s a storm coming. Me and Meygan got caught in it. Let me shower and change and I’ll be right with you, okay?” I dragged myself upstairs.

The hot water was exactly what I needed, washing away the cold bite of the rain and some of the unease clinging to me. By the time I wrapped myself in a robe and padded toward my room, the lights flickered — and went out completely.

“It’s alright, I’ll get some candles!” Dad’s voice carried up from downstairs, followed by hushed whispers I couldn’t quite catch. Probably Emily and Clara.

The glow of the storm outside gave me just enough light to get dressed before I went downstairs. Candles flickered everywhere, bathing the living room in golden shadows. For a moment, it felt cosy, almost safe. Then lightning split the sky again, a thunderclap shaking the house so violently we all jumped.

I looked at Dad — and froze. His eyes looked wrong. Foggy, white, like they weren’t really seeing me at all.

“Dad?” I whispered.

No answer.

“Dad.” Louder this time. Still nothing. Finally I shouted, and his head jerked, Emily’s with it. They shared some kind of silent exchange before Dad turned back to me, suddenly confused.

“Yes, honey? Is everything okay?” He studied me like I was the strange one.

My chest tightened. Something was wrong. Something I wasn’t being told.

The thunder rolled again, louder this time, and beneath it I heard another sound — faint, but unmistakable. A howl.

“Was that… was that a wolf?” I whispered.

My dad was on his feet in an instant, moving me away from the window before I could get another look. His grip was firm, too firm, and his voice carried a sharp edge when he spoke.

“Of course not. Wolves don’t come this close to town.” He paused, his eyes flickering to Emily for a fraction too long. “Listen, I have to go to work. Will you and the girls be alright?”

Work? At nearly nine o’clock, in the middle of a storm? He never went out this late anymore. Something was wrong. I could feel it in the way his voice cracked, the way he avoided my eyes, the way Emily seemed to know more than I did. Before I could push him, he was gone, the front door slamming shut against the storm.

The candles flickered as another c***k of thunder rattled the house. The unease gnawed at me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I blew the candles out and headed upstairs, trying to convince myself it was just a storm, just bad weather making everyone act strangely.

Emily and Clara disappeared into their rooms without protest — which was odd enough on its own — and I crawled into bed, the sound of rain battering the window lulling me into a restless sleep.

But sleep didn’t come easy. Every creak of the house made my eyes snap open. Every gust of wind sounded like footsteps on the stairs. My chest tightened as I lay staring at the ceiling, listening, waiting. Even the storm seemed to change — the thunder rolling less often now, leaving heavy silences between each crash, silences that made my imagination run wild.

I turned onto my side, trying to bury myself under the covers, but the unease didn’t fade. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching, waiting, just outside in the storm.

And then came the sound. A sharp clatter from downstairs. Not thunder. Not the wind. Something else.

I froze. It wasn’t long before there was another smash downstairs, this one seemed more urgent. Almost desperate.

I crept out of bed, peeking into Emily’s room. Empty. Clara’s too. The sheets hadn’t even been touched. Where were they?

The floorboard on the stairs groaned. Someone was inside the house. Panic surged through me. I darted into Dad’s room and locked the door, snatching the phone from his nightstand — the line was dead. The storm must have taken it out. Typical.

The banging started almost immediately, fists hammering against the door. My hands shook as I looked around for anything, anything I could use as a weapon. Another crash. The frame splintered. My only chance was the window.

“Get her! Grab her!” A man’s voice barked as the door gave way.

Heart in my throat, I scrambled onto the windowsill and jumped.

I hit the roof of the tool shed with a metallic thud that rattled my bones. Pain shot up my legs, but there was no time to stop. The metal groaned under my weight as I rolled off, landing hard on the soaked path below. The rain slapped against my skin like icy needles, plastering my hair to my face, blinding me as I staggered forward.

The wind shoved against me as I stumbled down the path, rain needling my skin and plastering my clothes to my body. Every step felt heavier, as though the storm itself wanted to drag me back. The night smelled raw, like earth torn open by the rain, and it made my chest tighten with dread.

My hair clung to my face, strands whipping across my eyes, blinding me as I tried to focus on the road ahead. The streetlamps flickered weakly, their halos swallowed by the sheets of rain, leaving everything warped and unsteady, like I was running through a half-formed dream.

Behind me, the sound of splintering wood told me the men had forced their way through. The crash of footsteps grew closer, muffled by the storm but still sharp enough to twist my stomach. I forced myself faster, lungs burning, legs screaming, every instinct telling me not to look back.

And then I did. Just for a second.

A shadow, massive and wrong, loomed where I had just been, and before my brain could even process it, I was hit — the world snapping sideways as I slammed into the ground. Pain tore through my back and side, raw and splintering, the breath stolen from me.

When I blinked, dazed, a shape stood above me on the path. A wolf. Larger than any wolf should ever be, its fur slicked with rain, its black eyes glinting in the flashes of lightning. Not the wolf from the forest. This one radiated danger, its presence pressing down on me as much as its paw did when it finally lowered it onto my stomach, crushing the air from my lungs.

I screamed — raw, broken — until the storm swallowed the sound and everything went dark.

-

My eyelids were heavy, glued shut with pain. For a moment, I thought I was still outside, that the pounding in my skull was just thunder overhead — but when I forced my eyes open, there was no storm. Only darkness.

The air was damp and cold, tasting of rust and stone. My head lolled to the side, and that’s when I felt it — the weight on my wrists. Chains. Thick, unyielding, clattering softly whenever I moved. Panic jolted through me, sharp enough to cut through the haze, and I tugged hard, the metal biting into my skin.

The sound echoed in the blackness, too loud, too final. No one answered. No footsteps, no voices. Just me, my ragged breathing, and the ache that throbbed through every inch of my body, as though the storm had gotten inside my bones and wouldn’t let go.

I tried again, straining against the shackles until my muscles screamed, but it was useless. The more I fought, the weaker I became. My body trembled, sweat slick against my skin despite the cold.

A sob tore out of me before I could swallow it down, the sound small and desperate in the silence. What was this place? Why was I still alive?

Defeated, I let my head fall back against the damp wall, chains rattling with the movement. Darkness pressed in on me, thick and suffocating. I closed my eyes, letting it take me under again, too exhausted to fight.