Beauty In The Blood Moon

Surroundings

Run. All I had to do was run, Right? Wrong. I can't believe am into this mess again! I knew the smell of blood was getting too close to my nose, knowing it was too late. In the end, my body was slowly inching towards the blood spattered on the floor.

"Caving already? I thought you were stronger than that Hani." Oh great, I almost forgot he was here too... Zeke Draven, the leader of the pack, and he likes to remind me of that.

"Shut up Zeke, I don't need your help." I scoffed. I glared back at him, across the room. Then I was slammed with the coppery smell again, like a brick wall, overpowering the mildew from the basement I ended up at. I didn't even know how I got here. Zeke piled me into the back of the car after putting something in my soda... Then it all went black.

"Talking back are we? I can put you on parole for that behavior. I'll have you know-" Ah, here he goes again. 'I can put you on parole, and there's nothing you can do about it- blah blah blah...' Zeke is the leader of our pack, but he takes his leadership too far sometimes. He misuses his power over the pack quite a lot.

There are 6 of us in our pack. Zeke decides to pull pranks on all 5 of us, and put us through "emergency training" to better prepare us for unexpected battles. And whenever we try to tell the council about his mishaps, they turn us down because his Grandfather is the Master, the highest in the region, and believes that Zeke does nothing wrong. Sometimes I just want to smack their heads together.

"Hania Cadence Jones! Are you listening to me?" Zeke screamed in my ear. It wasn't unusual for me to just straight-up ignore Zeke while he explains his all powerful authority. But what I didn't notice that he was so close I felt his heavy breathing against my neck. Eww. As if personal space wasn't taught to him as a child. Before thinking about what to do next, my body took a mind of it's own.

I pushed him... Did I seriously just do that? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why did you do that, Hania? Why?! He was already mad at your verbal actions, but now this?

When I turned around to see the damage, Zeke was crushed against the wall, and had the stare of Satan burning from the rubble and dust of busted concrete. I heard him murmur "Bitch" under his breath as he climbed out of the hole I created with an indent of his body against the impact. He brushed off his t-shirt, stood up, and I immediately knew this was the moment of truth.

I took a quick breath in, "I'm sorry I don't know what came over me, and -" SMACK! I could feel my blood boiling, the inside of me turning into fire, as I was taken into an uninviting wasteland that I dreaded to go. And I knew exactly what happened. Zeke pushed me on top of the body laying in the basement with us, inanimate, and smelling of rotting flesh. It was the source of the blood I dreaded to get near. My face was buried in the flesh, disregarding the already spilled blood all over the concrete floor, but going for an artery. God dammit Zeke!!! I didn't need this today!

I was taking in the blood, as refreshing as a glass of hard liquor, and boiling my entire body as if I had third degree burns, yet I couldn't stop or even look away at how I was draining the body. The memories of the girl below me ran through my mind. Early life to high school, loves lost, friends made, mistakes, all the way to college. This was the part I dreaded the most. Learning every thought and actions of another person. May I remind you, I like personal space.

I am a morphaíma. We're not known to the outside world. Some people might think of us as werewolves or vampires, but it's different than that. Morphaíma are shape-shifters who need blood in order to shift. Unlike a vampire, whenever blood hits a morphaíma's mouth, they instantly feel their insides turning into a fiery inferno. Although we can't stand blood, our bodies naturally are attracted to it. We also don't have fangs. Fangs are overrated.

"Had enough?" Zeke said behind me, as he snickered at how little control I really had. My respone was to flick him off from behind. So, I have some anger issues when it comes to my pack leader.

I wasn't completely sure how much pain I was in, but I could faintly hear my own whimpering, where I found Zeke's response was to pull me off the body by my collar. I was glad he didn't get a grip on my hair. I just got it colored lavender to match my purple eyes.

Morphaíma always have different colored eyes than those of humans. There are 7 colors to go with 7 people in a pack (we're missing 1 person) : Purple, Yellow, Red, Orange, Lime Green, Black and Copper. It is against Morphaíma code to have more than one person with the same color eyes. Our eyes are symbolic, each color gives a specific trait needed for battles and transformations. Black means stealth, Red is courage, Yellow is discipline, Orange is empathy, Lime Green is intelligence, Copper is Strength, and Purple is health, which is what I have.

Anyone can really have all of those traits, but not at the magnetism that the specified person has. I have strength , but nowhere near the strength of Isak, the copper of my pack. Zeke has black eyes, which makes him look kinda creepy with his jet black hair. And yes, Zeke is super sneaky, which is how he manages to prank the pack all of the time.

"You can let go of my shirt now," I said as I shrugged off his grip on my now wrinkled shirt. I wiped off my mouth and stepped away from him.

"What, I don't get a 'Thank you Zeke.' or 'You're the best, Zeke!' ?" Zeke said back to me. Of course, Zeke is always the hero of his own actions. He seems to be saving the entire pack from situations he put them in.

"Uh, are you serious right now? I'm not gonna say thank you. And, can we leave? I have things to do, Zeke." Zeke didn't deserve a thank you. If anything, I deserved an apology for being through the worst feast of a lifetime. Zeke knows very well what drinking blood will do to a Morphaíma. Any minute now I could transform unwillingly into the person I just drank from. I'd look like a woman in her early to mid-twenties, with long brown hair, and a slight tan. She had a bloody UCLA lanyard on, and from what I could see of her ID, it said her name was Amanda. I'm so sorry Zeke did this to you, Amanda.

"Yeah yeah yeah, 'I have things to do, places to go,' but don't forget you also have people to be, so don't be in such a rush if you're going to transform." Zeke retorted. He looked at me as if I were stupid for not realizing that I couldn't go around as another person right now. I may know all of Amanda's memories, but I couldn't be her a this stage. I'm not a very good actor anyway. I prefer to morph into an animal. Less talking, and more freedom.

Whenever a morphaíma drinks another person's blood, they can morph into them. But they don't need blood to transform into an animal.

"Ugh, I know." I planted my butt on the concrete floor, and grunted in frustration. I can't believe I have to stay even longer in this room with Zeke, and Amanda, the dead girl in the corner across from me. I decided to get comfortable, because who knows how long this transform will take to start. It could happen immediately, or it could take an hour or two for my body to clone Amanda's DNA, and for me to morph.

 As we waited, I decided to ask Zeke a question. "Hey Zeke, where are we anyway?'

Just as he was about to answer, a loud noise rippled through the floorboards above our heads, our eyes both got wide, and I knew something was wrong.