I saw someone post this pun based story set up:
"From birth, your parents have done everything they could to stop you from going out during a full moon. At the age of 16, you out of the house during a full moon. The clouds clear, and suddenly you turn into a log cabin. You are a werehouse."
As always, I thought too much about it. This is the result.
When I finally staggered back home the next morning, the relief that I was home safe overrode my mother's anger at my disobedience. The same could not be said of my father. From inside my mother's embrace, I heard his familiar chastising tone of voice revving up. It was as if the act of telling me what to do made him more domineering. There was no cathartic release and reset, it just kept escalating until we were screaming at each other, and my mother had to intervene.
"What the hell were you thinking, boy. You could have been discovered, you could have killed people! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"
"NO!", I shouted back. A familiar pattern despite the unfamiliar ground. "No, I had no idea how dangerous it could be because you've never told me anything about who I am? Or is it how we are? Am I the freak, or are we all the Adams family realtors?" I paused, partially for effect, and partially to admire who cooly I'd delivered that line. So far it had gone exactly how I'd rehearsed, as I'd been trapped in those 4 walls. Or as those 4 walls. TO be honest that part wasn't 100% clear to me. Then my Dad surprised me by tearing up my mental script. He sat down heavily with a huge sigh, like a bouncy castle when the pump is turned off.
"Yeah", he nodded. "Yeah, that is true. How could you know? It's fucking ridiculous. I mean if you were a vampire or a werewolf or whatever at least you'd have pop culture to help you make sense of some it. But not this." He patted the sofa next to him. "Come, sit down. I suppose its time."
I sat down. My mother went to put the kettle on. I might be a walking house, and at this point, she might be as well, as far as I knew, but a mother knew when it was time to make a cup of something hot.
"What do you mean dangerous, Dad? What am I going to do? Do we have asbestos?"
He rolled his eyes. It was so normal I nearly pinched myself just to check this wasn't some ridiculous dream. "Not as far as I know. Although I never had a surveyor inside me. So to speak."
I laughed, as he knew I would.
"No, you are dangerous, because of the speed and power of the change. A werewolf might maim a human or two before it learns to lock itself away at Full Moon. You could crush people by the busload. If you are near another building, you will knock it aside. A skyscraper would fall."
I laughed again. This time he was not so pleased. "It's not a joke. I'm telling you. You could kill 1000's if you change in the wrong place. The oldest handed down tale of our people is of the fall of Jericho. Human legend tells of the great shout and the power of God. The reality is that one of our kind was in the march around the walls. They marched for days and nights until the full moon came, and he smashed those impregnable walls aside like straw."
"Dad. What are we?"
"I don't know, boy", he said, deflating still further it seemed. My mother returned with two steaming cups of something. "Thanks love", he said as he took one. "I don't know, and none of our people does for sure. Tomorrow we'll take you to see The Architect. She's the oldest of us, and she can tell you what limited parts we do know."
My mother patted my shoulder. "You must be tired. The first change is awful on the mind. Did you have any animals move in?"
I shuddered at the thought of the small rodents I'd felt scurrying across my skin. Or inside my skin I supposed. I said nothing.
"Drink your tea", she said knowingly, then brightened. "Still, the good news is we think that we exist to shelter and protect something important. It's just we don't know what yet. But we don't set out to kill or convert or dominate like all the other changelings."
I looked at her. "Others? I thought the werewolves thing was another joke?"
"Tomorrow", my father said firmly with a glare at my mother. "For now, just rest. You need your strength. Learning The Foundations is a tough task and the Architect is not a forgiving teacher."
I sipped my tea and tried not the think about where the rats went when I changed back.
