Fear The Moon
Dr. Lauren Talbot awoke to the sight of dried blood on the wall.
She sat up, and immediately felt her head throb. The chains on her arms clanged, and she rested her head in her hands. The metal floor under her felt warm. She could feel the spots on her body where her clothes had ripped. Her muscles ached and her gums tasted like blood. A few moments passed before the throbbing subsided. She looked around.
The cell she sat in smelled of animal. The large metal watertight door in front of her was still closed. She hadn’t gotten out last night. It hadn’t gotten out.
The metal walls were covered in large scratches and dents, nothing unusual. What was unusual was the large splash of dried blood on one of the walls. She inspected her body, and saw a scratch that ran down her right arm from wrist to elbow. She must’ve hurt herself during the night.
Or did it hurt her? She never knew whether to think of the beast as herself (or rather, a version of herself) or as something apart from her, something that took control of her. A philosophical question that she had no time for.
The wound was already half-healed, thankfully. Whatever it was (her or something else) it’d always healed very quickly.
There was a small compartment built into the floor where she sat. It was no bigger than a phone case. The…
