Dante Laurent was just an ordinary nine-year-old kid, or so he thought. Living in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Dante enjoyed sledding in the winter, playing soccer in the summer, and exploring the woods behind his house year-round. For him, life was simple: school, friends, and the never-ending quest for adventure. He loved the vastness of the Canadian prairie, the way the horizon seemed to stretch forever, and the mysteries that the dense forests often promised. But everything changed one frosty January night.
It started as a typical winter evening. The Laurent family had just finished dinner, a hearty meal of stew and freshly baked bread. Dante’s parents were watching TV in the living room while his little sister, Mia, tried unsuccessfully to beat him at a board game. Outside, a fresh layer of snow blanketed the ground, and the temperature had plummeted, making the windows frost over. Dante yawned, stretched, and decided to call it a night. He climbed into his bed, bundled under layers of quilts, and drifted off to sleep as the soft glow of the moon streamed through his window.
The nightmare came suddenly. Dante’s dreams were filled with images of running through the woods, his bare feet crunching on the snow, the cold air biting at his skin. He felt like he was being pulled toward something, though he didn’t know what. Then the pain started—a deep, burning sensation in his bones that made him cry out in his sleep. He jolted awake, clutching his chest, only to find his room bathed in an eerie silver light.
The full moon hung high in the sky, its light pouring through the window. Dante tried to calm his racing heart, but the pain intensified. It spread through his body like wildfire, making his muscles tense and his skin feel like it was stretching. He clutched his bedpost, his small hands trembling as his fingernails elongated into sharp claws. His breathing grew ragged, and he doubled over as his spine seemed to shift and contort. The once-familiar room around him blurred as his senses sharpened. He could smell the stew from downstairs, hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, and even detect the rustle of branches outside as a squirrel darted through the snow.
Terrified, Dante stumbled out of bed. He looked down at his hands—they were no longer his hands but paws, covered in thick fur. His reflection in the bedroom mirror revealed glowing amber eyes and a face that was no longer human. A low growl escaped his throat, and panic set in. What was happening to him?
Drawn by an invisible force, Dante made his way to the window. He pushed it open with surprising ease, his newfound strength making the task effortless. The cold air hit him like a slap, but it also awakened something primal within him. Without hesitation, he leapt from the second-floor window and landed in the snow below, barely feeling the impact. His instincts took over, and he sprinted toward the woods behind his house.
The forest was alive with sounds and smells that Dante had never noticed before. The crunch of snow under his feet, the distant hoot of an owl, the earthy scent of the trees—everything felt magnified, more vivid. He ran deeper into the woods, his body moving with a speed and agility that thrilled and frightened him. He felt free, wild, and powerful, but he also felt lost. Who was he now? What had he become?
Hours seemed to pass in a blur. The moon began its descent, and as dawn approached, the strange sensations started to subside. Dante collapsed onto the forest floor, exhausted and shivering. The fur receded, his claws retracted, and his body returned to its familiar form. He lay there, staring up at the sky as the first rays of sunlight broke through the trees. His mind raced with questions, but his body was too drained to move.
When he finally mustered the strength to stand, he realized he was far from home. His pyjamas were torn and muddy, and his feet were bare and blistered from the cold. He stumbled back through the woods, guided by the faint outline of rooftops in the distance. By the time he reached his house, the sun was fully up, and the world was waking.
He crept inside, careful not to wake his family, and climbed back into his bed. The warmth of the blankets did little to chase away the chill that had settled deep within him. As he closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder if it had all been a dream. But the shredded remains of his pyjamas and the faint ache in his muscles told him otherwise.
Dante Laurent’s life had changed forever. He didn’t know how or why, but one thing was certain: the full moon had awakened something inside him, something he couldn’t ignore. And as he drifted off into an uneasy sleep, he knew this was only the beginning of an adventure that would take him far beyond the familiar streets of Saskatoon.
Did you like this story? My intent is to produce 10 chapters of the book if you do like it. Leave a comment if you want to.
Waiting for chapter two.
ReplyDeleteI will try to stick with weekly postings on Saturdays.
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