I wrote this for the Manomet Writer’s Group. The prompt was simply “Full Moon”. Wide open for whatever the mind can conjur, aye.
Well this is what I came up with. Enjoy.
The idea came at Brandon in a flash. Even as Stef was kissing him, he was on his back looking up at the answer. It was the moon, the full moon that seemed to drive her wild with desire.
It took him forever to work up the courage and ask her out. Now they went at it like there would be no tomorrow. Sometimes Stef got so worked up and treated him so roughly that it felt sort of predatorial.
That was it and he hated to admit it, even to himself; because that put him in position as prey. It was clear she was more assertive when the moon was full.
He responded to her advances, kissing her back just a little less enthusiastically with the hope she might slow down. Or, at least not get worked up further. And that thought seemed counter-intuitive to his high school mentality. Stef was definitely working him up and it was obvious to both as she straddled him.
She sat up and the smile on her face worked to a devious grin that displayed a dimple on one side. Her head tipped down coyly, and the squirming motions Stef made as she removed her jacket were more pronounced than they needed to be. This was the place of his wildest dreams, yet the strain was uncomfortable at the same time. He could feel permanence in the smile on his face.
Stef arched her back, bent at the waist and rested her hands on Brandon’s chest as she ground her way down to him again.
That’s when it happened. Just as she was bending to kiss him again, a streak raced across the sky and plowed into the moon.
Pieces of the moon scattered out in an effort to match the velocity of the original incoming object and the moon began to rotate slowly yet noticeably.
Brandon rubbernecked to the left to watch chunks of moon fly off to the right. And as Stef corrected course, he rubbernecked to the right.
“Hey, are you all right?”
Brandon finally returned his gaze to her and searched her face for an answer. Even in the shadowy veil of hair, her face had a healthy radiance of its own. He looked back up and beyond her once again and calmly said, “Something just hit the moon.” He said it as if in a trance, or emptily talking about the weather.
Stef sat up and with a hand low on Brandon’s stomach and turned to look at the moon. Brandon couldn’t resist ogling the silhouette of her breasts for a moment. He began to reach out.
Then the sound of it finally reached them. It came as a shock wave boom which rumbled away in the still night air.
A dark jagged gash marred the moon’s surface and the broken pieces had slowed their trajectory. The smaller bits trailed out behind those with more weight to them. The scar on the surface of the moon rotated to the right and it would be an hour or more before the depth of it could be seen in profile.
“Oh my God,” Stef said. “What just happened?”
Brandon felt a sudden urge explode in his brain. He pulled Stef close and rolled so that he was now on top. He held her arms out on the ground and grinned at her. Her initially-worried look was replaced with that devilish grin that showed off her dimple again.
“Wow, you animal. What are you going to do now? Huh, Brandon?”
She bucked once, and arched her back which put her breasts in a favorable light. A meaty jiggling swell peeked out.
Brandon surveyed all that he could see of her before lunging for her neck. When he bit in, she began to squirm and fight. Her intended scream merely gurgled. He held her arms out and kept at it until a warm gush filled his mouth. He sat up and watched as blood pumped and pooled under her head and shoulders. Her eyes were wide with fright. They darted about for an answer.
Brandon felt the changes within. He wondered if any of it showed outwardly for Stef to see as she faded into oblivion. The fight in her had waned and before she could wink out of existence he began to fulfill another urge.
It was just as primal, starting as a guttural noise deep in his throat. He was surprised at how long it took to get going, how long it lasted. His howl wound-up like an old air raid siren and called into the night. It answered to the moon in its fullness and for its radiance.
Brandon’s howl pierced the night as an ominous advisory. Another answered his call; then another more distant. Soon there were dozens taking up the call in acappella terror. He rejoined the frenzied chorus as it sang of the hunt to the moon.
Up above, a partial crater looked like a dimple at the end of the newly formed smirk. Two other craters seemed to peer down as the face slowly turned away.