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Chapter 2 - Not Today, Parasites

ACT ONE: THE CRESCENT PHASE

❝ The moon has five phases. The Crescent is the omen— a silver sliver of awakening, where destiny begins to stir beneath the skin but dares not roar. ❞

— Ymir, the Moonblind Seer of Nightbane

🌙𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡

"...this marks the third student reported missing from North Vale's Lunar Path research lab in just two weeks. Authorities say all students were last seen near the edge of the old forest bordering the restricted meteor site, also known as 'the Shimmer Grove' by locals."

Maybe, just maybe, letting undergrads wander into moon-juiced murder groves was a bad idea. But hey, what do I know?

"The missing have now been found—disoriented, weak, and severely dehydrated. All were located within a five-mile radius of one another, lying in circles of scorched earth under full moonlight. None recall how they got there. And stranger still, their stories are identical."

The audio cut to the voice of a rescued student.

"The veil is breathing. The stars are watching. The moon is bleeding. And he will come crowned in smoke and hunger. He comes for her. She is his or so he thinks."

The hairs on my arms sprang up and I froze, stomach turning. My wrist started to itch... again. But I preferred to ignore the tattoo I never remembered getting but still I could not ignore it. After two years, it was like a pull.

I flipped my hand over to inspect the mark. A precise black Crescent on the inside of my wrist. I ignored the fact that it felt like it was pulsing, like a heart beat. Or worse, that it had synced to mine.

I dropped my hand, pulling my hood lower over my head, I picked up the pace. I let the news drone on about the disappearances, trying to distract myself.

The tone of the news, switched from the solemn dirge to something upbeat as they switched to the sport segment.

"In other news, this one good, we have a top scorer in our humble town for the first time since Chad Smith of the Underdogs scored seven goals to gold in 1998. Now, we have a new champion in town, none other than resident golden-eyed forerunner, Lilith Althea Brooks. Top academic, record-breaking forward, and the first player in North Vale history to score ten goals in a single regional final."

I stopped walking. Not because I was flattered—but because I knew what was coming.

"Her game-winning goal, described by commentators as 'gravity-defying,' has gone viral overnight, drawing attention from scouts and sponsors alike. The mayor's office, along with the North Vale Academic Committee, has awarded her a combined prize of one million dollars."

Ah. There it was. The million-dollar mark. Cue the sharks.

"In a heartfelt speech after the match, Brooks thanked her coach, her team, and her late mother for believing in her."

That part was true. Coach helped me crawl through hell. My team tolerated me just enough to pass me the ball. And my mom? She was the only reason I didn't self-destruct long ago. I still had my share of her ashes, the one I had fought tooth and nail for. I would spread her ashes in the most beautiful beach in the world.

"When asked how she stayed motivated, Brooks smiled and said, 'Poverty. Nothing like generational trauma to keep you hungry.'"

The reporter chuckled awkwardly. "A true icon of modern resilience."

I winced.

They played the clip again.

"Lilith Brooks is set to be honored at the Moonlight Hall next weekend, with full town sponsorship. Local businesses have already begun campaigning to feature her in their Lunar Fest promotions. One shopkeeper even described her as 'the pride of North Vale... a force to be reckoned with.'"

A force, huh?

If only they knew.

I smiled then, wary because I knew the vultures would soon come to dine.

I took a turn on my street, and I already sighted my little apartment in the distance. As cramped as it had been since I moved there after I was kicked out, it was my abode.

Simply mine.

No one in my family had come here since I moved out, to see me or anything else.

I saw Charlotte; that one time I would prefer to never remember.

My gut twisted like it always did...

But since I killed the breadwinner, I needed to step up; their words. It was the only way they had given me my portion of my mother's ashes.

Working two jobs with school and practice to make sure I send a monthly upkeep. Thank goodness for the tutoring sessions; turned out that rich parents were quite generous when you were holding their kids' academic record by the balls.

I adjusted my duffel bag on my shoulders, already drooling at the thought of the frozen dumplings in the fridge. It was on its way to tasting like wet cardboard and had a charmingly funky smell to it; but there was nothing a little seasoning and some shallow frying couldn't do.

I could already see myself now, curled up on my little couch, munching on it with half a can of already flat soda that I could not dare to toss out.

A little celebration for me---

Then I froze just as I stepped onto the pavement just before my front door...

No...

My door was ajar...

Voices from within...

My stomach dropped to my feet, with shaking hands I pushed it all the way to be met with chaos.

I counted every intruder, six in total in my little home; my family.

Aunt Agnes's daughter, April, was in my fridge, picking up my dumplings and sniffing it. Her face instantly contorted with disgust.

"It's spoiled," I watched her trash it without a single thought.

Ajax was propped up on my little couch, putting out cigarettes on it.

My aunt was in my kitchen, shuffling through the drawers like a thief.

My uncle was munching carelessly on the imported cookies Raina had given me as a gift, probably the most expensive thing I had. Had.

Aunty Agnes' twins ran around the apartment, toppling over my cheap vase, my handmade ballerina figurines.

My skin crawled.

Acid filled my veins, and still, I could not move as I watched the peace of my abode be trampled.

But it was when the running twins made my desk tip forward—the same one with my mother's ashes—did I let my presence be known.

I crossed the threshold, racing for the urn that was tilting and caught it right on time. I wrapped my arms around it, heart racing a mile a minute. When I raised my head; all eyes were on me.

The silence weighed a ton, as every eye surveyed me.

My aunty broke the silence first, her words clipped and curt. "How can you barge in like that? Don't you have any manners?"

I didn't give her words time to sink in, let the scolding make me fold. "You are right, auntie. So rude of me to barge... into my own home."

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