Asher
The full moon had always hated me.
Every single month, without exception, it arrived like a curse wrapped in silver light, bringing the same unbearable torment that made me question whether I was truly just a hybrid or something far worse.
The pain never varied in its cruelty. It began as a subtle pressure behind my eyes, a faint ringing in my ears that grew into a violent, skull-splitting headache. Invisible claws seemed to dig deep into my brain, tearing through flesh and bone with relentless precision.
At first it was manageable. A dull throb I could push through with sheer willpower. But it always escalated. The pressure built until it felt like my head would shatter from within. Then came the blackout. I would lose consciousness completely, waking up hours, sometimes entire nights, later with no memory of what I had done. No dreams. No fragments. Just an empty void where time should have been.
