I stood at the edge of a doorframe. My feet were sore and arms itchy. It had taken my endless adrenaline to wear off for me to finally notice. Small scrapes were along my arms, dirt under my fingernails. I couldn’t imagine how I’d look in a mirror. A wild thing, plucked straight from the woods.

But none of that was my concern. The house was large. Too large. Larger than life. I’d thought Nia with her two stories and roomy backyard was another realm. This was something else entirely. And I was about to trail dirt all throughout it.

Justin didn’t care. The casualness he’d had as he led me to his house was unmatched. He hadn’t really spoken to me, although that might have been because I’d refused to look him in the eye the whole way. I wanted to ask why he’d even been there. I wanted to ask what the Literature Club had been doing. Nothing came out.

Instead, when I finally spoke, it was meaningless, “…You live here?”

I craned my neck up. Three stories. A perfectly manicured front lawn. Double doors of pristine white. I couldn’t imagine the inside, and I really, truly, did not want to.

Justin swung the door open and pocketed his key, “You’ll catch flies if you leave your mouth open. Come on.”

Despite myself, I followed.

The first thing I did was take my shoes off and leave them to the side. My socks weren’t in a better state, but at least I wouldn’t leave marks as I walked. Justin cared significantly less. I watched as the gleaming tile floor was branded with every one of his footsteps.

His voice was a shout, “I’m home.”

“Welcome back!” A woman’s voice rang from somewhere. I heard shuffling, leaving me to stand stock still where I was. Being in Kade’s house had been easier. There was less space for my awkwardness to fill. His parents had never been home. Here, I could fill up rooms upon rooms with the sudden onslaught of nerves. My brain was still muddled by all that’d transpired in the woods.

Justin paused on the landing of a flight of stairs. He glanced over at me, waiting. I teetered at the edge, pressing my lips together, “…I shouldn’t be here—”

A woman burst into the room. I jumped. She was beautiful. Dirty blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, streaked with hints of grey. A smile was already on her face, the wrinkles around her eyes were an ode to joy. I couldn’t tell her age, but I assumed early forties if anything.

The first thing she saw was me, and her smile stayed in place save for the wrinkle of worry between her brow, “Goodness who is this? What happened to you dear?”

“U-um…” She floated towards me. Her hand reached out, only to pluck a leaf that’d been stuck in my hair. My chest burned as I scrambled to find my voice again. “I-I’m…”

“Cinder. A friend of Abigail’s. Do you have spare clothes she can borrow?” Justin cut right to the chase. I could only nod along, trying to catch any changes to her posture at the mention of Abigail.

Nothing did, “A change of clothes? I think she needs a shower first. Are you hungry? I’m almost done cooking.”

“Well…” She shooed me towards the stairs and I couldn’t help but obey. As I arrived at the base of them, Justin only rolled his eyes.

“If you got it mom, I’m going to go change.”

“She’ll be right as rain soon.” I was ushered up the stairs and into a bathroom. It was larger, with both a shower and a bath. It was also clean, and I was afraid to touch the counter tops with my hands.

“Thank you. Sorry about all this…”

“Oh, it’s fine. I could never leave a child in this state. And I know my son would never be able to leave a girl like this either.” With what little I knew about Justin, I didn’t have a right to protest. There was still the feel of it in the back of my throat. “I’ll go get you something to wear. They may be a little too big on you, though.”

“N-no, that’s fine. It’s fine.” She hurried out and I was left to my own devices for a minute. I swallowed, forcing myself to look at the mirror. I was as I’d expected after hiding in bushes and ducking behind trees. Dirt was streaked against my face. My hair was in fifty different directions. My eyes looked like they had been on the brink of crying for hours. Unwittingly, my mind conjured Abigail. Even in a state like this, she was always beautiful. Her body would not be trembling like mine.

When the door opened again, I tore myself away, “Thanks um…”

“You can just call me Layla.” She set the bundle of clothes on the countertop, along with a towel. “Don’t look like that.”

“It’s just…”

“Not very formal?” Her angelic smile was back, and if the two didn’t have similar facial features I wasn’t sure I’d connect the two as mother and son. “I prefer my first name over my last.”

I didn’t press it, “Alright. Thank you Layla.”

She nodded once and then left me to it. I stared at the sweats and t-shirt, and tried to pretend this wasn’t a bizarre situation. I checked the locks twice before I dared to shower, and even despite the grime, I was fast. I scrubbed my skin raw, and ran soap through my hair twice just to ensure I got everything out of it.

I wasn’t sure how long I took, but it was long enough for Justin and his mom to be back downstairs. As I wrapped my head with the towel and opened the door, I could hear their voices faintly from below. With quick steps, I descended back down.

The second time I was in the entry room, I noticed the actual décor. There was far too much room, and there was a sitting room set up in it’s center. A piano was near the entrance window, large in its glory, but I got the feeling it was rarely used. My eyes skittered over everything, until they landed on the photos.

Justin’s mom really was stunning. I stared at them arranged on the wall. It was her and him in most of them. Some were of friends, others of an elderly man and woman who I assumed were grandparents. There was no sign of his dad.

I tore my gaze away, and I went towards the voices.

They were in a kitchen and dining room area. Justin was sitting in a chair, strewn across the table. His mom was laughing at him from where she stood in the kitchen. I once more felt the need to leave.

“U-um.” My voice was barely there, but Justin’s head lifted. He turned towards me, a half-smile on his face. “Thanks for the clothes.”

“You’re just in time for dinner.” Layla greeted, and I pressed my bundled uniform to my chest.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“It’s—”

“Mom made you tea, too.” He was fully grinning now at my pout. His hand motioned towards a chair next to him. “Come on.”

Whatever she had made did smell good. It was easy for my stomach to betray me. I reluctantly slipped into the seat next to him, keeping my focus on the mahogany wood. All I had to do was get through dinner, and then I’d finally be free.

At least I wasn’t pulled into the conversation around me. Layla focused on Justin, only asking me when it came to food preference before she served dinner. I offered my thanks, a half mumbled sound, as I started to eat. My brain hardly registered any of it in my desire to leave.

It was at the end of the meal, that the conversation veered from regular school check-ups, towards a certain topic, “How has club been going?”

“I told you I was thinking of quitting.” Justin didn’t look at me even though I couldn’t help but look at him. I had noticed how much his voice was quiet and calm in comparison to how he talked to everyone else. I wondered how different I sounded when talking to my parents.

“…You think you can?” Her smile was gone and her voice serious.

He shifted in his seat, “Geez mom, enough with the worry. I’m doing fine.”

“Are you part of the club?”

I startled, surprised at suddenly having a question thrown my way. I tore my gaze away from Justin and back to her, “Um, no. My friend kind of is, though.”

“Abigail.” Justin supplied, and she gave a slow nod.

“I was a part of it, back in the day. Aster Academy was brand new, and it seemed to have breathed life into a small town. It was nice back then, just a couple of friends who liked to read.” Her eyes saw through me, so entrapped by wistfulness.

I hesitated, full of questions, wondering if she knew. Justin rolled his eyes, “She’s wondering about the club.”

“Oh?” Her focus returned.

I shifted in my seat, “Well um, when did…when did Werewolf start?”

Tension lined her face, “You’re not part of the club, but you know about it?”

“W-well…”

As I stumbled for a response, her voice became sharp in a way only a mother’s can, “Justin, you know that isn’t something you should tell outsiders.”

“In all fairness, she isn’t exactly an outsider. They’ve taken an interest in her. Considered recruiting her and everything.” At Layla’s gaze, he turned his head. It was both strange and funny seeing his discomfort. “I was trying to get her to avoid the place.”

“I was also bothering him about it. I was worried about my friend, so…” At the very least, I couldn’t let him take all the blame. When she turned that gaze to me, I saw his shoulders relax a fraction.

She let her smile return, although it was stretched thin, “I suppose if you already know of its existence, I can explain the rest. It was nothing like it is today. When I was there, it was the game you know of. We would gather in the club room and on days we were bored we would play a round. There were no stakes involved save for a few bruised egos.”

“What is it now?”

“…It was my last year.” Justin stood straight to alert. Now there was a tension on his face that mirrored his mother’s.

“Do you really need to tell her all this story?”

“Would you prefer to? She is your friend.” I had half a mind to correct her in that we weren’t friends. I thought Justin would even protest. But that must not have even registered.

He was quiet for a minute, “I can. But I don’t think she needs to know.”

“If they want to recruit her, it’s already too late to protect her.” My stomach twisted. “It’s highly unlikely she’ll be the wolf as a new member, at least.”

The dream. The boy in the center. The entrapment of people and my desire to save him. The hands stopping me. My memory recalled it all perfectly. The fear was still rooted deep in my chest.

Justin frowned, his voice being forced to come out, “It starts next week.”

“Then that’s when they’ll invite her. So she can have a role.” Layla folded her hands on top of the table. “If they do, you shouldn’t go.”

Abigail would be there. I couldn’t leave her there alone. Even though my emotions were a mess towards her right now, I knew I still wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.

“…I have someone I need to protect.” Even if that meant the worst would befall me. I knew Abigail wasn’t going to be the wolf. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t be targeted.

“Then I hope you protect her well.” Layla stood, hands waving towards us to shoo us away. “If you want to talk, go to the living room. I promise I won’t interfere.”

Justin stood, waiting for me expectantly. I followed, and let him guide me into another room. One with plush furniture and a large TV. He all but collapsed on the couch, blond hair fanning out where his head hit the cushion. I stayed standing, still feeling too uncomfortable to sit anywhere.

He groaned, “Are you really going to go next week?”

“If they invite me.”

“Abigail really makes you sign a death wish without care, huh?”

There was a whole lot of care put into it, “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

He sat up abruptly, staring at me for a long moment, “It does. I’ve watched you for a while, you know.”

“H-huh?” I took a step back, my brain trying to figure out how to respond to that.

He didn’t give me a chance, “I don’t mean it like that, exactly. But back when me and Abigail were dating, I was curious about her friends. It was easier to talk to Nia than you. You were always hiding, or trying to at least.”

“Right…”

“Once we broke up, that was that. It was easy to forget you. But fast forward to this year and there you were again. And this time you actually looked me in the eye. And I thought ‘fuck it’ and gave you that USB with the expectation that you were exactly the same as you were back then. But you aren’t. Which means part of you getting involved with all of this is my fault.”

“I would have done this regardless.”

“Yeah, no shit. But I also gave you a ticking time bomb.”

“What were those photos anyway?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. If at least to divert from the strange direction this conversation was going.

He paused again, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard, “You looked at it?”

“W-well…I was curious.” At the very least, he didn’t look angry. Just surprised.

Like all energy was drained from him, he flopped back down again, “I think this circles back around to what my mom was talking about. The first hunt.”

I went quiet. He stayed where he was, eyes focused only on the ceiling above. From the direction of the kitchen, I heard a quiet humming. Despite myself, I drifted towards one of the seats and sat down. I hugged my uniform to my chest, and waited for him to continue.

“My mom and dad met through the club. They always spoke like it was love at first sight and all of that. But dad wasn’t the only one who’d loved her at first sight. There was another boy who claimed to love her. But it wasn’t love, it was obsession. He’d managed to corner her and—” Ice was in my veins and he shook his head. “Dad found out, and wanted to kill him. Instead, he used the game as a kind of psychological warfare. He showed up to club and announced they were going to do a round of Werewolf, but this time would be different. Someone had the club had done some unspeakable, and that person needed to be hunted and tried for their crime. It was a witch hunt, and it dissolved into chaos. Everyone’s awful secrets were spilled, and by the time they found out who dad had been talking about, they were brimming with rage.”

“…They hurt him.”

“They nearly fucking killed him.” Justin laughed, a single sound of disgust. “He deserved it. I believe that fully but…”

“But?”

“But things get warped. Others decided to adopt it as a way to get back at those who did wrong. Then at those who were annoying. Then as a way to punish everyone because we’re humans and humans are kinda fucked up aren’t we? Whoever is the wolf deserves to be hurt because all of us have hurt someone at some point in our lives, right?”

I couldn’t think of how to respond to that. A part of me was tempted to ask if any teachers or administrators knew, but I could picture Headmaster Gnight more enthralled by the strangeness of it than disgusted. He already knew about it, and he was using it to his entertainment. My fingers curled around my clothes a little tighter.

“And the USB?”

“From a tragedy three years ago. Right before we would have started high school. Ava and Everett’s freshman year.” My brain scrambled for such a memory. If I thought about it, really thought, I could conjure up a news headline. A girl from Aster Academy who’d been in an accident.

I jumped to my feet, “They killed someone.”

“It’s a working theory of mine.” He stood up with me, hands reaching out and resting heavy on my shoulders. “The worst is that it’s still going.”

My mind was going a million miles an hour, “They’re blackmailing Abigail.”

“Ah, is that what you found out during your excursion in the woods.”

I stood up straight, and raised my head, “I have to be there next week.”

“I already figured.” His fingers tensed briefly, like he wanted to will me to stay right where I was. “The next time you’re there, you can’t shake like this.”

“I won’t.” But even I couldn’t believe my words.