A wave of nausea pulled Jake to the floor. His room almost seemed to turn red. It must have been that awful… sickness that made it look that way.
He blinked over and over, but the red tint only seemed to get stronger in the room.
Something clicked. A blood moon had hit.
Jake needed to act, he knew how to deal with this, but the others may not. He had a role to play in this community.
He grasped the doorknob and pulled himself off the floor. Swallowing, he opened the door,
"BLOOD MOON, BLOCK YOUR DOOR, STAY INSIDE! BLOOD MOON!" He shouted. A flurry of bodies migrated into houses, some began barricading doors, some scrambling for materials.
It was just then that he felt almost as if his flesh were moving, bubbling. He was back at home.
Back in hell…
"No, no.. no, no, no, no, it can not happen this way…" Clenching his fist, he locked the door safely behind him.
He didn't barricade it. There were bigger problems to deal with.
He couldn't transform. Not now. Not where everyone would see.
The time wasn't right. The Hero would be decimated by the Wall of Flesh. He'd rip the town to shreds and wouldn't even care-!
He wouldn't even care. In that moment, all would feel so free, so alive, so whole… Nothing mattered as much as the Wall.
When you're the ruler, the big shot, everyone bows. When you need to fit in and be regular, control is most important. Controlling yourself. You are the only thing you can control.
He huffed and sat down at the table. He just needed to focus on everything other than the Blood Moon and flesh.
Books, books, books… Everything the hero had done for him and the other townspeople…
He dug his nails into his forearm.
He couldn't be alone. He needed…
The beast thrummed beneath his skin. He could almost hear its roar, its hungry, hungry roar.
It was at that moment, he could no longer remain still and quiet. He roared, likely inaudible because of the racket outside.
It felt relieving. He didn't have to be normal in the comfort of his own home.
A heavy thud on the door nearly made him jump out of his skin. A hoarse voice followed,
"Jake, are you in there?! Open the door!" It was Henry, a formerly cursed man who'd taken up the job as a clothier in town.
Jake took a moment to try and compose himself, but he was sure he still looked frazzled. He let Henry in quickly and rebarricaded the door.
"You can shelter with me."
"I have my own shelter, thank you, I came to ask about you. I heard this… roar from in here? You seemed rather worried when the moon came out. Are you feeling alright?"
Jake was silent. He didn't know how to respond.
"Look, I know a thing or two about magical curses, and I happen to know you… also have a curse of sorts. Are you okay?"
"No. I feel terrible. I cannot purge the thought of eating every person in this village and then burning down their houses. It disgusts and appetizes me."
"Oh.."
"You do not need to pass moral judgment on me. I know it's a terrible thought, and I by proxy am likely just as bad for harboring it. I can't even reason why I am affected by the blood moon."
"Probably because you are not totally human. I admit, they used to be bad for me too."
"That makes no sense, Skeletron isn't a common beast."
"It doesn't matter if it makes or doesn't make sense, it happened, didn't it?"
Jake nodded and thrummed his fingers on the wooden wall.
Surprisingly, he felt calmer just being with someone else.
"Could… we keep chatting?"
"Sure. If you do your best to not eat me." Henry chuckled. His eyes were teasing.
"Understood."