In less than 49 weeks, the magic barrier of fog surrounding my town will collapse, permanently killing as many as a hundred thousand people. Standing outside a townee bar, I wished that was my only problem. A green haze wafted in my vision, a fog that was apparently only visible to us monsters. I adjusted my bulletproof vest with one blue-furred hand, hoping I wouldn't need it this time, and prepared an emotional glamour. Putting a doggy grin on my werewolf face, I nonchalantly opened the wooden door of the bar and strolled in just in time to hear a voice say, “One.”

The voice in question came from a drunk bearded man who was pointing directly at me, having just finished a countdown. This was the third loop in a row that Craig had predicted my entrance. Of course, the stunned look on his face and most other patrons made it clear that few believed a monster was really about to walk in. One exception was the bartender, who continued pulling a beer draft, scarcely glancing at me. Like the bar he owned, Luke was unassuming but dependable. He never reacted to me until he was sure he knew the right move.

“I told you!” Craig slurred excitedly. From Craig's perspective, the world had ended less than an hour ago, and he’d already downed half a dozen beers, though I couldn't say he didn't have cause. “I told said! And a monster here too, is it!”

“You!” Craig said, turning unsteadily in his seat to point directly at me—or as close to 'directly' as he could manage with his eyes so drunkenly crossed. “You owe me money; I bet someone money you would be here, and here you are, so pay up!”

I knew from previous loops that Craig had been making a spectacle of himself for a while, and many people had stopped paying him much attention as he insisted everything was a simulation and on a timer.

There was no rushing for the exits when I walked in, in part, perhaps, because I was standing in the main entrance. Even if I wasn’t in the way, most people would have stayed sitting. Craig wasn’t the only one who half-remembered me. And while most people disagreed with him, they couldn’t help but notice their own feelings of Déjà vu.

I was supposed to be looking for patterns in how people reacted—how they remembered. An allied doctor had asked it of me since she wasn’t willing to leave her sister or the hospital behind. She was convinced there was a pattern to what was and wasn’t remembered across loops. If there was one, I hadn’t found it yet.

I’d spent weeks just looking for a group of people who didn’t run from or try to kill me on sight. I’d spent so long without being able to speak that I assumed gaining a voice would mean people would at least listen.

There were more people in the bar than I’d typically expect to find on an early afternoon on a weekday. Still, bars have long been a place of worship and community for the godless, so the time of day was less important than the circumstances.

Everyone in the bar knew they’d been trapped by the vortex. Some knew it was even worse than that. More importantly, there were most of two dozen people gathered in one place. Each person's partial memories were also more freely shared thanks to the liquid courage lowering inhibitions enough to overcome any self-conscious doubts.

For better or worse, this group of people had a better grasp of the events of the time loop than anyone else I’d run across who wasn’t a full Rememberer. And we were all a bunch of monsters.

All eyes followed me as I walked up to the bar next to Craig. “Well, Craig, you forgot to say how much money, so how about I buy you a beer, and we call it even. Luke, can I get two more?”

“Every time you come here, the reaction is more subdued,” Luke said in a voice slightly too loud for the abnormally hushed room.

The first time I walked in, there were screams and shouts and people trying to scare me off like I was a wild animal. People threw things and ran out the back door. Luke had pulled a gun and shot into the ceiling to try to spook me. “yeah, yours included.” I agreed as I accepted a beer from him with another grin.

“Uh, Luke, who’s the girl?” Alejandra asked from across the room, “And please tell me that’s the world’s best cosplay.”

I winced at the prodded wound. Admittedly, since I looked like a 7’ tall werewolf whose mouth movements didn’t match my words and whose voice was that of a teenage girl, both assumptions were understandable, if annoying.

Alejandra had been one of those who’d run out the first time; the second time, she’d just screamed and shrank back in her chair like the lawyer in Jurassic Park just before the T-Rex got him.

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“His name is Oberon,” Luke said, sliding another beer in front of Craig. My eyebrows rose in surprise; he hadn’t known either thing last time.

This was hardly terrible at all. The worst part was being called Oberon instead of Sam, and that was an intentional choice—if one I was still unsure of.

“And this isn’t cosplay,” I said, my voice wry. “In case you haven’t been paying attention. Shit's getting weird out there.” As I spoke, I released the glamour I prepared, focusing it on Alejandra. In the last loop, she’d worked herself up into a full panic attack. I’d crafted the glamour with that understanding in mind. I redirected her attention away from my appearance and onto my posture. The glamour told her I was relaxed and there was no danger; fear was not needed.

And it utterly failed to land.

Despite my failure, Alejandra seemed only nervous and confused.

It wasn’t just Luke; everyone was learning unexpectedly fast. Maybe I’d actually get some help. “I take it you’ve all been talking?” I said, guessing at why there might be such a pronounced difference in today’s reaction.

“I told 'em der was a monster 'an you wers coming,” Craig slurred at me gesturing with his fresh beer.

“We’ve been piecing some things together, not that any of it feels real or that we all agree,” Luke said.

“A monster killed a boy, I sawr it myself. Boy wasn’t more ‘an nine.” Craig sobbed into his chest, beer clenched tightly between both hands

“It wasn’t me,” I said softly. Craig knew that, but I needed to make sure others did. “I’m sorry you saw that,” I told him, meaning it more than he could know. I'd seen my fair share of ugly and then some. And I knew what came with that kind of pain.

“Is it really a time loop? Like Groundhog’s Day?” A feminine voice I didn’t know asked. “Can’t we save the kid?”

The new gal stood a few body lengths away from a dart board and threw two consecutive bullseyes to punctuate her sentence. Then she grinned sheepishly. “I took a sick day, but there was no internet, so I started playing darts. The next thing I knew, I couldn’t miss. I thought I might come win some money playing darts, only to find out the world ended when I wasn’t paying attention.”

I wasn’t sure if I recognized her or not. Her voice wasn’t familiar, but she was playing things pretty cool if this was the first time she’d seen me. She may have been around before, but just quiet.

“In my experience, it’s not as consistent as Groundhog Day.” I hedged. I’d tried twice to set my spawn near enough to where the kid died that I’d be able to intervene. Unfortunately, not everyone was as understanding as Craig, and I got attacked by an armed mob of monster-hunting civilians each time.

It was just one more thing I needed recruits for.

“What are we doing?” A quiet voice said from an otherwise empty booth. Satoshi was my second choice for a glamour. “Why are we humoring this demon? Why is no one fighting? This is America; where are the guns?!” his voice raised by the end, and he slammed a fist down on the table. “Why should we let it force this on us? Why are we accepting this? Where is our fight?!” Satoshi spat.

Satoshi wiped spittle from his lips and tears from his eyes, and a few people stood up to walk over to him to offer what comfort they could. Satoshi’s entire family was outside the vortex; he was only in town on business. I didn’t use a glamour on him for the same reason I didn’t use one on Craig. There was something wrong about muting honest emotion for the sake of convenience.

“I don’t have control over any of this. I didn’t cause it. I’m just trying to survive it like everyone else.” I replied gently, trying to keep heightened emotions from escalating things too early.

“No,” Alejandra said. “That’s not all, is it? You want something from us. Need something. Why else would you come here?”

Glancing at the clock behind Luke, I stood up and leaned back against the bar to face the entrance. “I don’t deny that I need help. People are depending on me, and if anyone is ever going to escape this nightmare, I’ll need your trust.” Spotting what I was looking for, I pushed away from the bar and leaned forward a bit, bracing myself without taking my eyes off the entrance.

An explosion of noise was accompanied by shattering glass and wood as a hairless rabbit the size of a buffalo came charging through the entrance. I grabbed it by one long ear and yanked it hard toward me, pulling it down to the ground. Its attention wasn’t on me, and its long buck teeth snapped menacingly at Craig. “But just because I need your help doesn’t mean you don’t need my help too.”