Dancing in the Moonlight
I smiled for the portrait. I was so happy that evening, she was painting me. I had asked and pleaded for so long. She finally, reluctantly, agreed.
She was the love of my life, and the one person I could tell anything to. She didn’t care that three nights a month (roughly) I turned into the furry beast you see above. I didn’t care that her left hand was a tentacle.
I had read about romance, and watched those sappy chick flicks when I was younger, but I believed it was all drivel. Until the day I met her, that is. I understood all the earth moving and time standing still stuff. It was amazing.
She took pictures of me all three nights of the full moon, and then went to work painting. It took a week of work for her to be happy. The image above is nothing compared to the original, which is 10 feet tall, and I’m nearly at my real size. But it’s good enough for me to remember it by.
She took the painting in to her art studio after it was done, and then she started spending more time there. She started coming home smelling of incense, and I would give her space and not ask the burning questions inside.
One night she asked if I would like to attend a get together with some of her friends at the art studio. She had never asked me to go with her. I eagerly agreed. She told me to wait in the car, and she would come get me in a moment. I nodded my head, but knew I would take off the moment she went inside. Something didn’t smell right around here and the hair on the back of my neck was rising.
The heavy back door made it’s usual thud as it shut, and I quietly got out of the car. I clamored onto the closed roof, curtesy of the strength boost that was always with me, and hide behind an air conditioning unit. I could just see the studio’s back door. I could smell the strong incense inside.
She came back out, the lights blazing inside, and she stopped in her tracks when she saw I wasn’t in the car. When she opened the door again, I saw a few tentacles peek around the corner, tentacles with eyes on the end, tentacles that were not hers. A got a wiff of some horrifying stench mixed with the incense.
I took off. I left my apartment, my job, my stuff, and just left. A few weeks later, hell broke loose and Cthulhu minions started running around everywhere. I’ve been on the run, and able to stay ahead of any of there hunters. I’m glad I’ma werewolf, because the regular humans are being slaughtered.
Even though I’m sure she is evil, and beyond redemption, I miss her. I still love her.