MOONLIGHT

      Allen pulled off the road. On the hard, sand packed, shoulder he cut the bike off. Straddling the Yamaha 25X2 he removed his bug smeared gray and black helmet. His fingers absently traced the lettering on the helmet. Everyone including Cathy failed to see the meaning behind the words "Cloud Seeker," above the clouded embossed helmet. From an early age, he learned to kept his fear of the night and moon to himself.
      He gave a frantic glanced at the crimson streaked sky before scanning the barren desolate the desert. Driven by the instinct for survival he started to panic. Soon the moon would rise, and with its light, the pain would begin. Somewhere in this god, forsaken land there had to be a place capable of blocking out the killing rays of the moon. The search revealed only sand and sparse shrub stretched endlessly to the distant foothills.
      Everyday he lived in fear of the moon, its frail light, and darkness. He glanced at his watch. Without looking at it, he knew he didn't have time to dig or make a makeshift shelter. Even if there was, he didn't have a shovel or blanket. His only ally an overcast sky and a slight hint of rain. He prayed the clouds would continue to hide the moon. He knew better than to attempt crossing the desert in late afternoon. Storming out of the trailer, he hadn't grabbed his jacket or gloves. The helmet had been strapped to the bikes seat or he would have left that also.
      What had he been thinking? He lived in the desert long enough to know the temperature dropped quickly after sundown. He began cursing. Outside of his helmet he wore only a tee-shirt and ragged cut-offs. Shaking his head he thought, "Real smart Al. Real smart."
      Again, he asked himself. "Why did I wait so long before leaving Manta? Why did I have to take the bike"?
      Even before asking, he knew the answer to both questions. He and Cathy had fought only hours before. Anger, spite, and arrogance had influenced his decision.
      Forgetting logic, Allen jammed on the helmet back on his head, and jumped back on the bike. Within seconds he had turned the key, flipped the engine button and opened the throttle. The bike kicked up sand as he sped off. He desperately needed to outrun the darkening sky and rising moon.
      He throttled down. Crouching close to the bike's frame, he hoped to get the maximum speed from the bike. The bike's speed soon exceeded one hundred twenty-five mph. Within seconds the white divider lines a single line. As the mile markers passed, the horizon darkened more. Not once did he think to turn off the road and head out cross-country. Fearing for his life, he glanced skyward. His palms began to sweat. Nauseating pain seized him. Between the waves of pain, he began to relive the stories told to him and the curse Goddess Nyx had placed on his bloodline.
      Little was know about this goddess, but it was believed that Nyx ruled the Night. Those who studied ancient civilizations believed Nyx, the goddess of Night, to be a myth. Allen knew better. He could trace his lineage back to the glory that was once ancient Greece. To a time when fact and legend existed as one, before many of these facts became intertwined, creating myths and legends now forgotten or unknown.
      During this ancient time of innocence countless deities watched over mankind. Among these deities was Nyx. Though only a minor goddess and of little consequence, she ruled the night and seduction. Like Zeus, the ruler of Olympus, she often took on mortal form. However, unlike Zeus, she only took on these forms to play her deadly games. Often she would transform herself in the guise of a desirable maiden.
      In these forms she would often charm, seduce and then punish those she felt were not devoted enough to their mates or if the male who caught her interest resisted her charms. Her favors or punishments depended on her mood. These actions often angered Hera, the Goddess of marriage. In her defense, Nyx was quick to reminded Hera that these males, were only mortals. As such, they needed to be reminded of their place. On one of her evening adventures, she paused on the island of Delos. There, by chance, she viewed a mortal male named Stathero, a fisherman of the Pronplious bloodline. Being a handsome male, this mortal caught her interest. His devotion to his wife was unheard of. Nyx looked into his mind to discover his vision of the perfect lover. She saw only the woman he was embracing.
      Both outraged and envious, Nyx felt no mortal should be so devoted. The love and devotion he exhibited was reserved only for the gods. As she studied him, this mortal, begin to intrigue her. She decided to appear before him. No mortal man she appeared before had dared to refuse her advances.
      The first evening she appeared before him as a fair-haired child on the verge of womanhood, imitating child-like innocence, she approached Stathero. Nyx's pretense of coy advances was laughed at. He scolded her for her actions. Adding to what she felt was an insult; he swatted her bottom, and sent her on her way. His refusal, made her more determined to sway him.
      On the second evening she, approached him as a beautiful dark skinned temptress. Stathero pushed her aside. He coldly ignored her promises of pleasure. Nyx fought to control her and anger. She would give him one more chance to succumb to her charms. This was no longer a game. All of Olympus now laughed at her, and Hera hinted that she might intervene on the mortal's behalf.
      In the light of a full moon, on the third evening, she came to him. Light emanating from her temple form lit the dark stone street. She held out her arms beckoning him to embrace her. Tempering her emotions, she called him by name and attempted to caress him. Again, he refused her advances.
      The goddess' warm, seductive charm turned cold. Stepping back, she yelled. "Listen unto me, mortal male, you have refused my charms now three times. None have dared do what you have. I, Nyx, Goddess of the Night shall give those of your bloodline something to remember me by."
      Glaring at the man, an evil smile crept across her face. She pointed at the moon. "You shall never again look at the night sky, and enjoy the moon's romantic light. Let not its soft light touch your bare skin, for as the lunar body pulls the waters of the sea, so shall it pull the life essence from your flesh. So it shall be till the end of your lineage!"
      The goddess brought her arms up, thus proclaiming her divine decree. Lowering her arms, the corners of her mouth tightened as a cruel smile formed. She whispered seductively. "This is my gift to you and all of your bloodline."
      Sadistic laughter filled the street as she faded into the darkness. Pain gripped Stathero when moonlight touched him. He ran, seeking protection and guidance in Hera's temple. The Goddess refused to intervene. The images of the ancient curse dissolved when the clouds parted, allowing the moon's frail glowing rays to engulf the bike. Allen felt the light burn into his flesh. He doubled over in pain. He gripped the handlebars tighter and twisted. The bike accelerated.
      Glancing at his hands, he watched as they quickly turned ash brown. He felt his body begin to tighten. His eye's shifted to the side mirror. He was becoming nauseated. In pain, he watched as his face began to discolor. He pushed the mirror out of his line of vision. His face became gaunt and his eyes sank deep in their sockets. He tried to pull the tinted visor down, in a futile attempt to block out the light, but Moonlight continued to pierce his exposed body. He felt the skin tighten around his skull. Gnawing cramps seized him.
      The bike began to swerve. He fought desperately to outrun his deadly nemesis. Now too late, he realized he had crossed the centerline. Hearing the blast of an air horn, he looked up. In a desperate attempt to block the oncoming the lights of a semi, he tried to bring his hands up, but even the slightest movement was accompanied by the sound of dried crushing leaves and severe pain. The moon's deadly glow had claimed his ability to move.
      Allen didn't feel the impact of the semi when it slammed into the bike, any more than he heard a vengeful laughter fill the night air. After three millennia, Nyx, the goddess of Night had claimed the last of Stathero's bloodline