For those of you who were fast enough to read the first ver. of Ch1 Full Moon, please re-read, because I re-uploaded and edited this first chap! Also read AN at the end of the chap.

The middle-aged woman sat in a candle-lit living room, clasping the hand of her husband. She was sweating with fear, and her huge eyes frantically flitted from one way to the other. 

The woman was pregnat, already beginning her labor. There were only a few minutes left until midnight. Her friends sat with their medical supplies, ready to help whenever the child was ready. 

All the people watched through the small window of the shack. The full moon was high in the sky, standing tall and proud above the tall and dead November trees. A draft blew through the cracks of the hut and chilled the woman to the bone. 

She finally broke the silence with a whisper, "If she holds on just a little bit more, will she be required to do this alone?"

An old man, clearly the leader, nodded. "If your daughter is born after midnight, she is not born the night of the full moon. But, however, if the proccess of her birth starts before, she is forever fated by legend." 

The husband dropped to the ground, begging the man. "Please! Don't let my daughter die like this, it can't happen like this anymore! First my sister, and now my daughter?! Please president, please!" He clutched at his cloak. 

The old man firmly, but gently pushed the man away. "Mr. Mayor! You must keep your calm. You know I cannot do anything." He laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him one last sympathetic look before leaving.

The woman squeezed her eyes shut as she went through another contraction. Her husband quickly laid her weak body on the blankets set out for her. She screamed for them to stop, "NO! The baby can't come out now! She'll be born, just to die! I can't! I can't let her!"

The women held her down while she shreiked and sobbed. They could see that the birth process had just begun. 

The woman let out a shrill scream and pushed with all her might. The women of the village crowded around her and helped her. And right before the clock struck midnight, a baby's first cry rang throughout the dark night. 

They were too engrossed in the fate of the child that they failed to notice the distant howl of the a lone wolf in the night sky.

Twenty years later...

The mayor watched the clock tick. He dabbed his sweaty forehead with his hankercheif whilst clutching the small photograph of a beautiful girl. He waited for the old lady in front of him to speak. 

Her cloak hid her face, and only the white wrinkled skin of her neck was shown. Everything else was concealed in a dark gray hood. Her knobbed hand clutched her cane and she took a breath before beginning her message:

"They are becoming agitated. It has been over half a century and Naan is the only village that has not delivered their sacrifice. Other villages have been offering their maidens