Categories > Original > Horror
Prey for the Moon
0 reviewsIn my Creative Writing class we did this exercise where we made a list of things and had to write a short story including all of them, so this is what I came up with. The actual list is at the bott...
0Unrated
The pastor wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead as he locked the door to his office. Leading a church in the middle of New York City was, by far, one of the most difficult locations to be in. There were so many troubled children running around, far too few civilians who cared to bother with attending church on Sunday. The congregation never grew past twenty people, which always discouraged him. When you're trying to speak the word of God, something you've devoted your life to, and nobody is around to listen, it's very hard to continue. But every week, no matter how hard it was, he always managed to stand up in front of a minimal audience, because he always had that feeling inside that one day he'd change a life.
He glanced towards the bright, full moon as he descended the stairs in front of the building and continued towards the subway station, which was only a few yards from the church. As he stood waiting for the train, he noticed a girl standing a ways away from him, wearing a trench coat. Her hair was messy; as if it had been thrown every which way, and her makeup was so bold he could barely see any feature beyond it. On her feet she wore tall heels, so sharp they could puncture the pavement below her. He had an instant idea as to what she did for a living, but refused to make premature assumptions, although his mind was immediately screaming "This is it! You could save this girl from an unholy life!" Regardless of his attempt at ignoring this thought, he couldn't help but feel excited when the train came, and she stepped into the same car as him.
Three stops had passed them by, and he racked his mind for the most polite way to approach her. Simply walking up to her and speaking the word of God didn't seem to be the most effective way to start a discussion.
As he thought, he examined the rest of the passengers, his eyes falling on a young man whose mind was most likely not in the most appropriate place, as his lust filled eyes were scaling the young woman.
Suddenly there was unease in the car. As the train emerged from the tunnel and into the moonlight, the woman grasped her stomach and groaned. But this was not what brought his gaze back from the young man. It was the sudden burst of thick, brown hair from her back, so sharp that her trench coat ripped apart. Two pointy ears burst from her messy hair, and her nose protruded from her face, shaping into a muzzle. Her fingernails grew at least three inches, and her feet burst from the tall shoes.
Someone screamed, and soon the entire car was hysterical. "Hit the emergency brake!" One called. "Someone call the conductor!" But most were trying to force the doors open, few considering the speed of the train or the dangers of jumping. The moment a gunshot rang, all screams ceased. Everyone cautiously looked towards where a wolf had stood only moments before, to see the girl, in tattered clothing that proved what the priest had originally assumed. She was looking at her hand, now covered in blood. It seemed the train had returned underground, eliminating the presence of the moon's bright gaze. She looked out at the confused passengers, and began to cry.
"Please, please someone kill me now, before anyone else is cursed," she cried, cradling her wounded hand. A man cocked his gun and the car seemed to part like the Red Sea, but just then the train was out in the open, and she was once again the beast that they feared. There was another gunshot, this one landing in her side, but she didn't even flinch. Instead, she reached out and clawed at the man, who was thrust aside. The passengers resumed their panic, but the priest did his best to stay calm, and began to pray. He prayed that he could find the answer, the way to save them all. As the train hit another tunnel, and the wolf became a girl, her tears brought his attention back to her.
"The gun is useless, unless you have silver bullets." She cried, and the priest had the answer. He grabbed his silver cross, and looked back at the girl, now clutching her side. He knew the immediate answer, but hesitated, trying to think of an answer that did not include sacrificing her. But as the moonlight invaded the car, he knew there was no other way. As the passengers fought against the constraints of the doors, he pulled hard, breaking the chain and releasing it from his body. He ran towards the girl, bearing the wide end, and thrust it into the wound in her side. She howled, harsh and low, as she fell to the floor. The priest couldn't help but feel immediate guilt as he looked at the still corpse, but as he turned to look at the relieved passengers, he knew that he would be forgiven.
The next week, when the priest looked out over the congregation, he recognized many new faces, and smiled. Regardless of how bizarre that night had been, his congregation had finally grown, and he felt the excitement of realizing his dream: He had finally changed lives.
List for the Story:
Two Characters (exotic dancer and priest)
Two Items (stake and gun)
Location (subway)
Adjective (bizarre)
Abstract Words (lust and hysteria)
He glanced towards the bright, full moon as he descended the stairs in front of the building and continued towards the subway station, which was only a few yards from the church. As he stood waiting for the train, he noticed a girl standing a ways away from him, wearing a trench coat. Her hair was messy; as if it had been thrown every which way, and her makeup was so bold he could barely see any feature beyond it. On her feet she wore tall heels, so sharp they could puncture the pavement below her. He had an instant idea as to what she did for a living, but refused to make premature assumptions, although his mind was immediately screaming "This is it! You could save this girl from an unholy life!" Regardless of his attempt at ignoring this thought, he couldn't help but feel excited when the train came, and she stepped into the same car as him.
Three stops had passed them by, and he racked his mind for the most polite way to approach her. Simply walking up to her and speaking the word of God didn't seem to be the most effective way to start a discussion.
As he thought, he examined the rest of the passengers, his eyes falling on a young man whose mind was most likely not in the most appropriate place, as his lust filled eyes were scaling the young woman.
Suddenly there was unease in the car. As the train emerged from the tunnel and into the moonlight, the woman grasped her stomach and groaned. But this was not what brought his gaze back from the young man. It was the sudden burst of thick, brown hair from her back, so sharp that her trench coat ripped apart. Two pointy ears burst from her messy hair, and her nose protruded from her face, shaping into a muzzle. Her fingernails grew at least three inches, and her feet burst from the tall shoes.
Someone screamed, and soon the entire car was hysterical. "Hit the emergency brake!" One called. "Someone call the conductor!" But most were trying to force the doors open, few considering the speed of the train or the dangers of jumping. The moment a gunshot rang, all screams ceased. Everyone cautiously looked towards where a wolf had stood only moments before, to see the girl, in tattered clothing that proved what the priest had originally assumed. She was looking at her hand, now covered in blood. It seemed the train had returned underground, eliminating the presence of the moon's bright gaze. She looked out at the confused passengers, and began to cry.
"Please, please someone kill me now, before anyone else is cursed," she cried, cradling her wounded hand. A man cocked his gun and the car seemed to part like the Red Sea, but just then the train was out in the open, and she was once again the beast that they feared. There was another gunshot, this one landing in her side, but she didn't even flinch. Instead, she reached out and clawed at the man, who was thrust aside. The passengers resumed their panic, but the priest did his best to stay calm, and began to pray. He prayed that he could find the answer, the way to save them all. As the train hit another tunnel, and the wolf became a girl, her tears brought his attention back to her.
"The gun is useless, unless you have silver bullets." She cried, and the priest had the answer. He grabbed his silver cross, and looked back at the girl, now clutching her side. He knew the immediate answer, but hesitated, trying to think of an answer that did not include sacrificing her. But as the moonlight invaded the car, he knew there was no other way. As the passengers fought against the constraints of the doors, he pulled hard, breaking the chain and releasing it from his body. He ran towards the girl, bearing the wide end, and thrust it into the wound in her side. She howled, harsh and low, as she fell to the floor. The priest couldn't help but feel immediate guilt as he looked at the still corpse, but as he turned to look at the relieved passengers, he knew that he would be forgiven.
The next week, when the priest looked out over the congregation, he recognized many new faces, and smiled. Regardless of how bizarre that night had been, his congregation had finally grown, and he felt the excitement of realizing his dream: He had finally changed lives.
List for the Story:
Two Characters (exotic dancer and priest)
Two Items (stake and gun)
Location (subway)
Adjective (bizarre)
Abstract Words (lust and hysteria)
Sign up to rate and review this story