The Day The Moon Went Dark

The moon went dark.

It wasn’t noticed right away. Lunar cycles and all that. The New Moon, the moment of every cycle when we look to the sky and see nothing but the stars. So, when the darkness happened, no one thought anything of it.

Except the astronomers.

Apparently, there was quite the meltdown happening in that particular scientific community. Understandable. If your job is to watch space and make deductions or theories, and then explain the findings to the rest of the world…. Well, having one of the most widely known parts of space disappear would be cause for concern.

It took about a week for the rest of the world to catch up. A week and a ten-year-old named Bobby.

You see, the panicked scientists told their superiors, who told theirs and so on. The news quickly made its way up the ranks, then stopped. Governments decided telling the public would cause panic. Civilians demanding answers no one had and breaking down when they were given none.

Then along came Bobby. Bobby who loved the stars and planets. Who begged his parents for a telescope for his 10th birthday. Who couldn’t wait to set it up and look at the surface of the moon. And Bobby’s parents who were, of course, recording this reaction for TikTok.

Poor Bobby was so disappointed.

Have you ever seen a spoiled child have a meltdown over not getting their way. That was Bobby. But, while Bobby was having his live-streamed tantrum…. His parents were filming the moonless night sky in great confusion.

There was checking and re-checking, copious amounts of repositioning, before Bobby’s parents announced they too could not find the moon.

Mass mockery began in the comment section.

How can two adults not know how to position a telescope to spot the moon? No wonder Bobby was such a nightmare of a child. It’s very clear why that boy isn’t the brightest.

Followed by many going out to make their own video, intent on showing how easy it was to find said ball in the sky. Only for their responses to all return the same. They couldn’t find the moon.

This brought about a near shut down of social media as governments tried to slow exposure. It was futile. And stupid. The videos were out there. They were shared, reposted, copied, and saved. The world now knew, the moon was gone.

Mass panic followed.

Questions were thrown to world leaders in desperation. Theories were tossed around in a frenzy. Anything and everything was being considered, from aliens to the Lord’s coming. Then there were the doomsday people who began preaching about the ‘beginning of the end.’ And, for some reason, toilet paper was in short supply.

After a few days, once people were confident the sky wasn’t falling, panic did settle. It wasn’t gone. The moon was still missing after all. Rather, it was set to a low simmer. Like the static on the tv, it buzzed in the background. There, but no longer overpowering. Life resumed almost like normal.

Except for the water.

Water began to do the wacky.

There was the belief that the moon controlled the waters. Moved the tides. Gave the seas its moods.

It was all theories before. Theories and Mythos. Not anymore. The waters of the world were in a state of absolute unrest. Storms were appearing, and disappearing, at random. Tides would come in with a crash at the strangest hours. Water would pull away from the shores, like the moments before a devastating tsunami wave. Only for the water to return moments later.

It seemed, without the moon, the water lost its rhythm.

But, as with all things, even that lost its glamour. As a species, we humans are pretty resilient. We had no intention of letting the oddities stop us from moving forward. We would continue to live on or we wouldn't. No sense in shutting down our lives in the meantime.

It was that very mindset that brought me here.

Standing on these rocky cliffs, overlooking a part of the ocean I’d never seen. Feeling the breeze move across my skin and the grass tickle my legs. And I loved every second of it.

I had been warned by the villagers to stay away from this place. “‘The Serpent’ lives out there. The cause of all this lives in those waters.” That’s what they’d told me. But I was never one for ghost stories, nor did I believe in myths and legends.

I found this spot my second morning here. It was secluded and off the path, not meant for the average hiker. Or any hiker really.

It was perfect.

Solitude and beauty. My two favorite things. I sketched my view, read my book, and basked in the sun. Alone.

My return to the village that night was uneventful. Until I told them where I had been. You would have thought I had risen from the dead given their reactions. Words were hurled at me in quick succession. Most of which was in Bisaya. Which of course made the limited Tagalog I had learned for this trip, absolutely useless.

When things calmed down – and after seeing the stupid look on my face – the villagers began explaining in the varying degrees of English they possessed. They told me of the legend, and dangers, of Bakunawa. The Moon Eater.

When the stories were done, they made me promise to never return to that place. Especially at night. With a little crisscross of my fingers behind my back, I promised. The whole room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Things shifted back into routine. We ate, we talked, and I retired to my room for the night.

I kept the routine the following morning. Going through the motions of a normal day until I could slip away unnoticed. It was the afternoon when I made my leave. I grabbed my water and my bag and made for my forbidden spot.

Now here I stand. The sun beginning to fall behind the horizon. Painting the world in hues of yellows, reds, oranges, and pinks. Bare feet curling over the edge of the rocks. I don’t see danger. All I see is beauty. Beauty and solitude and calm water.

An alarm bell fired off inside my mind. Calm water? When was the last time any water had been calm?

I knew the answer. The whole world knew the answer. Not since the moon last sat in the sky.

The hair on the back of my neck lifted as a feeling of wrongness took hold. Lines from the first Pirates of the Caribbean flit through my mind. It’s the scene where Barbosa tells Elizabeth she should start believing in ghost stories as she is in one. The sentiment rings true in this moment.

I stare at the water, watching as it moves calm and steady. The alarm fires off louder. The feeling of wrongness increases, raising my heartrate. A glowing red dot catches my attention, my eyes strain in the dimming light. Something moves beneath the surface.

I’m backing away from the edge before I’ve even realized I wanted to move.

Too late.

A shape is rising from the water. Large and dark and glowing. Glowing from within. Its scales shimmer in the fading light as it levels a single red eye on my form.

Monster. Serpent. Dragon. Bakunawa.

Fear fills me as it opens its maw. I can feel the heat of its breath, like I was holding myself to an open flame. Scorching. I’m sure this is my end.

It speaks. “Hello, little girl.”