Lycanthrop, moon and Dagon

I woke up and looked at the clock: it was eight in the evening. The room was dark, twilight had fallen outside. For this time, it's normal, I think. But how did I manage to sleep the whole day?

I'm thirsty. The first thing that comes to mind is a hot strong tea. I try to find my slippers but can't find them, so I slap my way to the kitchen barefoot. I put the kettle on and return to the bedroom. I pull the handle of the balcony door and realize that it's stuck. I give the handle a tug again and abandon the idea, remembering that my pipe is in the coat pocket in the closet from the night walk. I recall the bitter smell of tobacco without pleasure. I don't feel like smoking. After sleeping, even thinking about smoking is unbearable.

When did this night walk happen?

I remember Alvina took me to the beach. But was it at night? I smoked my pipe... and then everything seems hazy.

The kettle whistles. I go back to the kitchen to turn off the gas. I pour boiling water into a cup with a black tea bag. I look at the steam rising above the cup.

I haven't even had a sip from it when suddenly everything shakes, and crystal rattles in the cupboard. I see ripples on the surface of the tea.

A truck?

No, doesn't seem like it. I approach the window facing the empty alley behind the house. "What could it be?" I ask myself aloud.

I look down from the third floor, but there's nothing. And no one, just young chestnut trees in the greenish light of the moon, hanging over the roof of the house across the street. Next to the full moon, a cloud slowly drifts by, resembling a fish... or even a mermaid. In general, this small cumulus cloud constantly changes its outlines, resembling either a fish with a megalodon fin or something truly fairy-tale. I stare at it for a long time, trying to guess what makes it so special, until I remember that my tea is getting cold on the table, and I haven't even taken a sip. And I'm very thirsty. I turn around, dreaming of delicious Baihao Ceylon tea.

Suddenly the doorbell rings. I look at the wall clock: quarter to nine. How quickly time flew by while I watched, like some lunatic, in the twilight outside the window!

And now someone is ringing the doorbell of my apartment.

Entering the hallway, I meet my reflection in the mirror. Against the background of my swarthy face covered with a thick black beard, my eyes literally shine like cat's eyes, with yellow phosphorus. And only now do I realize that I'm wearing a burgundy silk robe. I remember that the robe belongs to my girlfriend, Alvina.

The doorbell rings again.

Before heading to the door, a spot on the robe catches my eye. I take a closer look and see a large dark blotch, resembling a slightly smeared bloodstain. I feel a cramp tightening my stomach.

Through the peephole, I can't see anything, it's too dark, but I open the door. A small creature in a baggy green hoodie looks at me from the deep hood.

"Finally awake, beast?" the creature, clearly female, suddenly asks me.

"Why 'beast'?" I wonder to myself, continuing to remain speechless and perplexed.

Meanwhile, the small impudent creature takes off her hood, revealing a cute, milky-skinned face framed by black hair cascading down her shoulders. She brushes a lock from her forehead and shoots me a disapproving glance with her large almond-shaped eyes.

"Every time you're so out of it after your...," she mutters to herself, as if her words don't matter much.

"Sorry, who are you?" I ask, my voice weak, forgetting that I'm standing in a woman's robe and feeling a sharp need to moisten my parched throat.

The girl rolls her eyes impatiently. My appearance doesn't seem to faze her at all. Then, from under her vast hoodie, she retrieves a carton of milk and hands it to me.

"Always the same," she says, irritation evident in her voice. "Here, take it, you brute. It helps you come to your senses after a wild night."

I'm completely lost, but I take the milk.

"Thanks..."

"Uh-huh!" The girl rummages in her pockets and pulls out something else. Silently, she hands it to me.

I see it's a small reddish stone, a typical coastal pebble with veins of mica.

"Father comes out after the full moon. You'll remember. Later. We're our father's children. But before, you shared our joy as your own... so, come."

I continue to stare at the girl, bewildered, not quite grasping the meaning of her words.

She sighs heavily, pulling her hood back up. Her small face disappears into its dark depths.

"The place is the same, on the shore... Listen, you'll remember everything."

She turns her back to me to call the elevator.

How strange all of this is, I think, tilting my head and surveying myself in the robe. I see that my legs are smeared with brown mud. Another strange surprise.

"Stop!" I call out to the girl as she steps into the elevator. "Who is this 'father'?"

Her face is hidden, but I feel her condescending smile.

The scrape of the closing elevator doors muffles her response.

I barely hear something like "Dagot" or "Dagon."

Midnight is approaching, and I'm wide awake. I find my pipe in the coat pocket, made of pear wood. I fill it with tobacco and light it up. Better tobacco exists, but this one isn't bad. Yes, now I feel like smoking. And I drink Ceylon tea. Not everything is so bad, I decide. And I continue to enjoy my smoke.

After smoking my fill, I clean the bowl of my pipe and let it dry, as one should.

I should change Alvina's robe for something more dignified. I take a shower and change. I revel in my marvelous transformation.

I put the milk in the fridge to keep it fresh. On the hallway dresser lies the sea stone. I leave it there. It smells like the sea, and I have a hunch where this reddish pebble with gray flecks was picked up from.

When I thought about it, for a moment I seemed to hear seagulls crying and the rustle of incoming waves. And the smells of decaying seaweed and mollusks stirred my imagination as well. A strange intoxicating feeling lightly touched me, then vanished as quickly as it appeared, only to rush back, stronger. I longed to inhale deeply the salty sea air. I was irresistibly drawn to the beach. I'll probably meet Alvina there, and she'll try to explain where she disappeared to and why I woke up in her burgundy robe, which was clearly not my size?

I lace up my sneakers and, throwing the coat over my shoulders, put the stone in my pocket. I cast one last glance at the wall clock, step over the threshold of the apartment, and lock the door. It was past midnight.

I descend the stairs onto the street, slipping my hands into the sleeves. The elevator is useless when you live on the third floor and you're still on the move in your years. Oh, gods, what "my years"? I'm still so young and in my prime. And I'm going to clear my foggy head on the shore by the noisy sea.

I hope the sea will be restless.

I love a nighttime storm. And that eerie, almost otherworldly roar, drowning out even the roar of the surf, muffling the sounds of the entire world.

From afar, I distinctly felt the full spectrum of sea scents, welcomed by a gentle night breeze, and I was extremely happy at that moment for having come. Only a small disappointment struck me when I found the sea to be completely calm.

Sleepy and silent sea.

This wasn't what I expected from it. It was so quiet that it seemed ready to listen to my complaints about our mismatched moods, especially since I had plenty of time until dawn.

In the twilight, under the black starless sky, I stumbled upon motionless figures sitting in a wide circle on the sand. One of the figures swayed and flicked a lighter. Then she raised her hand with the lighter, and before my eyes appeared several more dark motionless silhouettes, illuminated by the flickering flame swaying in the wind.

A strange scene unfolded before me. The participants of the mysterious nocturnal gathering, seated shoulder to shoulder, formed just three concentric rings, one inside the other. The innermost circle consisted of six people. And at its center lay a naked girl, her hands tightly pressed to her sides; her legs faced the sea, and her head turned toward the city lights. Her hair was scattered artfully on the sand around her head like a halo. The girl, without blinking, stared at the sky.

One of the faceless figures gestured for me to join the others, completing the chain. But suddenly it seemed to me that the girl enclosed in the three circles bore a striking resemblance to Alvina. I push forward, breaking the integrity of the outer ring. Like a sudden gust of wind lifting me into the air like a scrap of paper. And now, I hover above the heads of the ritual participants, arranged beneath me in the emblem of three spheres, and realize that the central figure symbolizes the soul in three aspects: corporeal, ethereal, and spiritual. I can also discern my body, left below in the gap between the two outer rings, in the darkness. I descend, and the scene beneath me loses its clarity. Everything is shrouded in impenetrable darkness.

The sensation of my own hands, feet... returns to me. I feel bone-chilling cold throughout my body. Experiencing a slight dizziness, I stand up and feel the gazes of invisible faces upon me in the twilight.

It seems to me that all members of the secret brotherhood are clad in cloaks, or hoodies, like that audacious girl who visited me in the evening. It was she who handed me the milk. Be that as it may, all their faces are hidden beneath the hoods. And since I arrived here, none of them uttered a word. A funereal silence prevailed, disturbed only by faint gusts of wind.

The silent figures suddenly began to change position and move.

The circles took on an elongated shape, sharp angles appearing on both sides. At the same time, the outer ring merged with what was inside it, while what was central remained unchanged.

And the naked girl rose to her feet and covered herself with a long cloak, blending into the mass of ritual participants.

Now I knew she was not Alvina, only remotely resembling her in her graceful figure. The moon hid behind the clouds, making it difficult for me to even determine the color of her hair. But there was no doubt: it wasn't my Alvina.

Should I rejoice at this or, on the contrary, begin to worry? After all, I still couldn't remember where and when I last saw her.

Now, as the figures shifted, the living emblem depicted an eye. And this sign spoke to me of something... It carried some meaning, clearly otherworldly and sacred.

And suddenly the wind reminds me of it...

We stand ankle-deep in the sea, holding hands, and Alvina, smiling dazzlingly, doesn't take her incredibly beautiful green eyes off me. Her dark locks flutter in the wind. Her enticing crimson lips move, but soundlessly. She whispers something to me and extends a delicate hand. The tiny hairs on her bronze forearm glisten in the sunlight.

I take from her hand a small stone, utterly unremarkable, like the countless ones that can be found in the shallows, and for a brief moment, I notice a drawing scratched on its surface in the shape of an eye.

Her smile fades. Sadness appears in Alvina's eyes.

I remembered the immense sorrow in which my soul drowned, sinking to the depths of despair.

The salty wind with a hint of iodine... It always reminded me of irreparable loss.

I smoked only the strongest tobacco with the most intense aroma since then, trying to drown out the gusts of sorrowful memories brought by the sea. I feared and avoided this scent — the scent of overwhelming melancholy. I was tired of the pain and wanted to finally break free. But it seems it's not within my power to tune the strings to a new tune.

I see the smirking moon and take out the stone from my coat pocket. It has become so cold while lying there. All this time it was in my pocket, serving as a hint. I discerned the same symbol on it — in the form of an eye. With a swing, I throw it into the sea, as far as possible, so that the waves wouldn't soon bring it back to the shore. The moon's greenish path stretches across the dark sea, cutting it in half. And the tide begins.

"Do you remember something?" I hear a familiar girlish voice, coinciding with the rustle of the approaching wave.

A ghostly hope clenched my heart. But I didn't believe it and pushed it away. So, this is where my strength lies! It is born in the dark abyss of the soul. In the inexhaustible source of my anger. The rage of a beast boiled in my heart and surged outward.

"The union of the moon and the beast," some voice within me said.

"No offense... We couldn't let you break the chain. We accumulated strength to appeal to him. We will see Father Dagon, and you can ask him for deliverance. You won't need to kill anymore. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

This is that girl, who, apparently, knew me long before our meeting yesterday. She dropped her hood, and her strands fluttered in the wind like ribbons. Now I didn't see in her a trace of that audacity I had seen before.

Looking at me with her amazingly large eyes, she continued, "You can't mourn her forever, wolf. I always told you that if you stop tormenting yourself with bitter memories and let her go, you might be able to master both your beastly instincts and hunger."

I wanted to say something to her, just out of courtesy, to acknowledge her friendly attention, despite seeing her only as a bothersome stranger with a dubious occupation. I muttered something incoherent. The wind's whistle carried even more meaning.

At that moment, a tall figure in a pointed hood approached, with narrow shoulders and as thin as a pole. The face is not visible. A bony hand with long knobby fingers rested on the girl's shoulder. This mysterious stranger in his ordinary life could have been the most ordinary guy, I thought, maybe some loser with a hole in his pocket and debts to two creditors, but here he found an exceptional opportunity to feel part of something special, important in planetary terms, albeit imaginary, but meaningful to him.

The girl, whom I would now give no more than twenty years, obediently stepped aside and returned to the group, which by now had lined up along the shoreline. There were no fewer than fifty people. They raised their hands in an invoking gesture. Their silent appeal to Dagon seemed ridiculous to me.

I stepped back from the water and sat on a small dune. And I stared into the dark and endless sea. Above me, swaying, an olive tree rustled its small leaves. But despite that, the intermittent splash reached my ears.

There, in the distance, where my gaze was directed, a column of spray and foam rose. My back tensed. I don't know why it happened, probably instinctively. I jumped to my feet, and then suddenly dropped to all fours. Suddenly all these eccentrics in hoods fell to their knees, reaching their hands towards the sea.

A wave rolled far onto the shore. Dagon's worshippers were in the water. They were still on their knees, in postures of worship, and the seawater rose to their waist. My strange condition passed. It was a momentary frenzy when everything around me turned green. Only the moon was blindingly white, shining like the sun. The deafening rustle of leaves at that moment seemed to turn into a mysterious whisper, in which, it seemed, I heard a threatening tone.

And again that sweetish taste of iodine. And the irresistible feeling behind it... I have no strength to fight. Overwhelmed by agony within myself, I surrender without a fight.

The waves lapped at our feet, but we didn't take our eyes off each other, as if intoxicated by a sweet dream. She playfully smiles, sunlight dances on her hair.

She seems unreal to me... invented, fairy-tale.

Suddenly, something snaps in my chest. And the bright sun, which bathes both of us in its blinding light at this moment, becomes too hot. I think about how it would be nice for us to be in the shade together... for eternity. But the sun hides behind a gray cloud that unexpectedly appeared above us. This insolent, ugly cloud distracts Alvina; her smile disappears. She looks at the cloud with concern, as if seeing some sinister omen in it.

She is still nearby, but I fear I will lose her, that she is no longer mine. Overwhelmed by this unbearable thought, I feel like I'm suffocating, swallowing the salty air.

The sea becomes restless. The wind picks up. The girl, whose name I didn't know, turned and looked at me with some endless compassion.

I stood up, feeling an inexplicable rage. It seemed to me that I was growing, increasing in size. Inside, everything burned with fire. The whisper of leaves sounded even more sinister, and like a bright light bulb over the sea, the white moon shone. I had another fit. I saw everything differently again.

The sea sparkled with an emerald hue on the crests of the waves and gleamed with leaden flashes of the moon when the darkness over the horizon suddenly stirred. There appeared a cyclopean silhouette approaching the shore, its shadow moving ahead of it, gliding over the waves, and in a matter of seconds, it covered a part of the beach where excited fanatics had lined up in a semicircle, preparing to meet their god.

Soon the moon disappeared behind the enormous black figure, the size and contours of which, for some reason, did not instill fear in me.

"How could you let her die?" the voice inside me speaks again.

I repeat it aloud. The girl in the hoodie suddenly looks at me. And I see in her large eyes compassion mixed with hope. But I don't need her sympathy. I don't need anyone's sympathy, I tell myself angrily. And again, that furious voice resounds within me. It repeats its question.

And I repeat after it.

The girl in the hoodie walks along the sand. Her hair waves in the wind. Emerging from the giant's shadow, she herself casts a long shadow, in the vague outlines of which something strange is discerned. As she approaches, I suddenly notice these obvious inconsistencies.

"You remembered?" she says, smiling sadly. Her eyes, such amazing green eyes, look at me with unconditional love.

The wind chills me. And the taste of iodine tingles my tongue and nostrils. But inside, it becomes so warm and spacious that I want to inhale deeply right now. Wasn't this desire what prompted me to come here?

No! I wished to find Alvina.

I lean over the small figure.

"Alvina," I whisper, swallowing the lump of my remaining doubts.

"He gave me a second chance," she says, "gave me a new body. But I couldn't... I mean, I was afraid that you wouldn't be able to..."

"How could it be otherwise?" I say, pressing her to me. This tiny creature trembles in my strong, greedy embrace. "How many times have you told me this?"

"This last time," Alvina replies, trembling.

Dagon slowly turns his back, on which a large flat crest rises, and retreats, disappearing into the emerald waters. The moon hides behind a cloud.

Alvina steps back slightly to look at this gray, ugly cloud that hides the timid moon behind it. And with anxious anticipation, I watched the changing face of my beloved, her new face. But she suddenly lowers her eyes calmly and quietly tells me:

"She no longer has power over you, my wolf."

With the dawn, we returned home. Laughing brightly, Alvina picked up her silk robe from the floor and headed to the shower. I felt terrible fatigue and collapsed onto the bed.

Under my eyelids, I still saw the hunched black silhouette of the lizard-man hybrid, around his massive head, a grayish spot spread out — a dim halo from the moon hidden behind him.

"It's hard to believe that all this wasn't a dream," I said to the black, silent colossus. And I opened my eyes.

Above me, on the white, cracked ceiling, large uneven, dark-brown letters were left, which only an idiot or a sleepwalker would fail to notice. Covering part of the ceiling, its text ended on the wall.

SHE HAS RETURNED. AWAIT HER APPEARANCE. YOU MUST UNDERSTAND IT YOURSELF. WHO IS SHE? HOPEFULLY, THIS TIME YOU WILL SEE WHO LIVES IN THE SEA. FOR 33 FULL MOONS, YOU SHAMEFULLY LOST YOUR CHANCE. THE MOON AND DAGON WILL REMOVE THE SPELL. YOU MUST AWAIT HIS APPEARANCE. YOU MUST BELIEVE ALVINA. OR YOU WILL SEARCH FOR HER AGAIN AND AGAIN, ONLY TO LOSE HER.

This was the message I left for myself.

Well, that's the end of our mysterious story. And we lived happily ever after. And this inscription still remains in our bedroom to this day, albeit slightly faded over time. Not that we decided to keep it as a memento. It's just a matter of simple lack of money for repairs.

You can see it with your own eyes if you come over for tea.

You might be surprised, but we live in the same city as you, most likely. And the street surely bears a name familiar to you: Dagon; house 33.