Rrrrrrrrrrrr.

The door to the rustic home made a noisy crack as it swung open. Stepping in, taking in the old pine scent, the lingering odor of tobacco—it certainly fit the man’s aesthetic. Dusty framed photos lined the walls, depicting Hudson sitting on various chairs, dressed in various suits—the man seemed to have quite the liking for himself, an ego that reeked almost as much as the pipe in his mouth.

Various long sofas stretched across the living room adjacent to a dusty CRT. A vintage radio sat on the maple countertop, along with a few withered plants. As the two walked in, the elder would frown at this revelation, the chore having completely skipped his mind. Sigh.

“...So, ya want the grand tour?” Hudson asked with diluted enthusiasm. Andy nodded, and followed along while the man showed him about. It was pretty short, simple, not much to explain besides the odd sand pit in the bedroom and a few frozen rats in the freezer—Hudson was also sure to lay out a number of housekeeping chores he wanted the boy to complete while he’d be staying there—water the plants, rake the leaves, mow the lawn. Once Andy was acquainted with his temporary home, the mayor said his goodbyes, and before he could really begin to process everything, the man left Andy to his own devices. It seemed Hudson had a lot on his plate, as expected for someone in his position.

So what to do, now? The night was still young, and now Andy found himself with idle hands in a strange new world. He could write, he thought, about the experiences he’s had in the last 72 hours. How he’d put his Scouting skills to the test, how he’d lived off of the land for three whole days—heck, maybe he could even begin to describe the utterly outlandish things he had seen just within the last few hours.

The walk over to the cabin had continued with the uncanny—Andy swore he’d seen a cerberus being touted around in a handbag like some Beverly Hills chihuahua. There were more dragons—smaller ones, ones Hudson encouraged not to feed. “Invasive species,” he called them, “just like the kloons.” And what was that about? What was a kloon? It was too much information.

With a whine, Andy slumped into the spare bedroom and flopped face down onto his bed. Total relaxation—the first time he’d been able to feel it in days. He hadn’t realized just how long he’d been without sleep…

Tap tap tap.

The rapping on his window didn’t register at first, but after some persistence, Andy’s eyes shot open, his body seizing as he jolted awake. What was it, now? What could possibly be happening now? Dread welled in the boy’s lungs as his neck craned toward the pane. Just outside, that pale teenager from before, the one who’d taken his picture—a boy with slicked back hair and a pointed nose, bluish-gray skin and darkened eyes—he waved, pointing a claw toward the window hatch. Andy made a sour expression and shook his head.

“Ugh,” The strange boy groaned. “Don’t be lame. Lemme in.”

“No.”

“Promise I won’t bite—you probably taste bad.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means I can smell you from out here, you reek.”

Andy sighed. “What do you want?”

“Well, I wanna know the scoop on Hudson’s new little friend.”

A pause—his new little friend? What was this guy talking about? Andy sat up from his bed and walked over to the window.

“Come again?”

The pale teen smirked. “You’re not the first pup Hudson’s dragged in—probably ain’t gonna be the last. Got a real weird habit of bringin’ in strays.”

“You mean he’s done this before?”

“Few times, from what I can tell. I can tell ya more, if ya let me in.”

Andy pondered the boy’s proposition, squinting his eyes and examining the room. It certainly had been decorated like a teenager’s, with rock and roll posters on the walls, a collection of CDs and a plush bear set on the floor. He turned back to the teen.

“Okay, fine. But no funny business, alright?”

“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t dream of it. Scout’s honor.”

Andy rolled his eyes and unlatched the window. Suddenly, a gust of dark wind enveloped him, the boy outside disintegrating into a black cloud of mist as he made his way through the open crack. He reformed on the other side and inspected the room at impossible speeds.

“Huh. Never been in here before.”

“W-what’re you doing?”

“Perusing.” The teen remarked as he dangled Andy’s journal open—the boy yelped and grabbed it away, clamping it shut.

“You said no funny business.”

“Well, nothin’ funny ‘bout this, this’s tragic. Really. Feel awful for ya, man.”

“What do you want?”

“I told you already, I want the scoop. You tell me a little about yourself, paint me a nice pretty picture, I tell you all you wanna know.”

“Could ya tell me what for?”

“For the local paper—just a little interest feature, nothin’ too intimate—not yet anyways. You don’t happen to have a saucy criminal history, do ya?”

“...I’m fourteen years old.”

“My question still stands.”

“No!”

The teen quickly scribbled the factoid in his open notepad.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Andy Kessler.”

“Vick, Vick Roldán. How old are you, Andy?”

“I just—I just said I’m fourteen.”

“Riiight. Gotcha,” Vick writes this down as well. “And why’d you end up comin’ here?”

Andy’s shoulders sort of slumped.

“I…dunno. Reckon I was just gonna live out my days in the woods, but—well I mean, I wasn’t really given much of a choice. Mr. Hudson’s insistin’ that I stay in the valley.”

“Yeah, he does that. You’re a Werewolf, right?”

“Right.”

“Born, or just turned? Gonna guess just turned. Oh, you transform yet? Get all hairy an’ scary?”

“No, uh—I actually intend on avoiding that.”

Vick tut-tutted. “Interesting. You’ll have to tell me how that pans out. You know the full moon’s this weekend?”

That soon? Andy winced, biting his lips, beads of sweat forming at his temples. “This weekend? That’s—say is that stuff really true? I mean, the whole light of the full moon thing? I’m—like I don’t even know what I need to do. How do I avoid that? I don’t know how I’m supposed to—oh, man.” Like a scared bird sticking its head in the sand, Andy’s face fell into his shaking hands.

“Are you scared?” Vick pressed.

Andy gulped and nodded.

“Gonna guess this wasn’t your choice, then.”

“It wasn’t.”

The two sat in quiet, just for a moment, Vick taking the time to jot a few things down. The silence was inviting enough—Andy, oddly enough, felt the right amount of comfortable to continue. For a few minutes, he spent his time recounting the same story he’d told Hudson, about his farm back in Harpers Ferry, the critters he cared for. He talked about how his family farm was ravaged, how he’d been trampled by Tanya, how he’d been wheeled along against his will through the various terrors of the city.

Vick ate it all up, absorbing the information through pen and paper, scribbling fiercely all the ins and outs of this self-conscious character. Every now and then, he’d interrupt, giving the odd factoid here and there, how the bolters came to be domesticated, how Hudson was obsessed with the radio—the conversation went on as expected, up until Andy finally popped the question that had been dominating his mind.

“So—what about these other ‘pups’ you was talking about? You said I ain’t the first kid Mr. Hudson’s taken in?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally not the first. We get lots of your kind coming through here on a regular basis—dunno what it is, but Hudson really likes helping out the Werewolves. Maybe it’s because they’re always the wettest blankets when they drop into town, bunch of sad sacks moping about like they’ve got nothin’ better to do. I mean, I get it, but like. Nah. I don’t.”

Andy rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“Anyways, Hudson’s had a few guys he’s taken under his wing—treated like sons, right, ‘til they got back on their feet.”

“How many?”

“Like…three? I wanna say three, and you’d be the fourth.”

“And all these fellas, they ended up okay?”

“Ehh?” Vick waved his hand back and forth. “I’d say for the most part. One’s gone on to be an Elder for the Rangers—I know the other guy, Don, he’s doing alright for himself working at the convenience store…”

“What about the third guy?”

“Third guy’s where it all went wrong,” Vick said with a sneer.

“Why? What did he do?”

“Bit of a long story, but I’ll tell you what I know,” Vick flipped his notepad shut and placed it in his shirt pocket. “Mind if I sit?”

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Andy shook his head, gesturing to a wooden chair. “Go for it.”

Vick sat, and looking from left to right, as if making sure no ill-intentioned party had been listening in, he would slowly start to spin his web.

“So, this jerk, Drew Warren, he started to sneak out the border to try and visit his friends on the outside world. Not sure how, the Rangers usually have the perimeter down on lock, but he somehow found a way through. Long story short, he caught some real bad attention—these were Natural Order. Their first encounter didn’t go too well, I’ll just say that. Soon, Drew started campaigning to rise up and attack the hunters’ local base. Got everyone around here riled up about their treatment from the humans. Hudson was super against it, but, I mean, I’m sure you know how riots usually go. Eventually, they overpowered the Ranger blockade, and a large group marched toward the Order’s fortress.”

As Vick explained, his expression grew grim, the smarm of his cadence taking on a dull rhythm. He’d stopped looking Andy in the eyes, his stare shifting slowly toward the window.

“It was a massacre. Drew led hundreds of people to their deaths. So, when he and the other survivors got back home, they all got thrown right into prison. Hudson even sapped their powers.”

Andy perked up. “He can do that? Just—take our magic away?”

“It’s a whole thing. When I say sap, I more so mean suppress. They’ve got these cuffs at the prison which can nullify certain traits, like, say, your fuzzy alter-ego. Problem is the side effects—that other persona wants to get out, in any way it can. That kind of effect can drive just about anyone crazy.”

Another option thrown right out the window. Andy sighed. “...So, that’s it then? Mr. Hudson just locked ‘im away?”

“Not for long, mind you. I mean, the guy still had a soft spot for Warren. Still, he keeps a pretty tight leash on him now that he’s out.”

Absorbing the new information, Andy sat up and followed Vick’s wandering eyes around the room.

“Drew…did he stay here, too?”

“Yeah.” Vick nodded, giving a dry laugh. “I uh…I used to come bug him all the time. I like to think we were pretty tight until he decided to go off the deep end.”

The two once more sat in silence, looking about the room, avoiding eye contact with one another, trying to think of what else there was to say. Vick stood abruptly, slapping his knees as he got to his feet.

“Welp. Guess I should stop bugging you, too. Story ain’t gonna write itself.”

“...Yeah. Right.” Andy sighed. “It ain’t gonna be too into the nitty gritty is it?”

“I’ll try an’ keep it light on the details. People’re gonna want to know the new kid in town, though. Hey, maybe you’ll be a local celebrity?”

“I hope not.”

Vick laughed. “Then I won’t embellish too much. Say, actually, did you want to come get a tour of the office or something?”

Andy blinked. “What?”

“My office, you wanna tour?”

“I mean—I don’t know.”

“Tep’s sake, what, you just gonna sit around here all day and brood? C’mon, you gotta get out into the city sometime. Might as well be with someone ya know.”

“...I guess,” Andy sighed as he got to his feet and grabbed his bag. “But I dunno how long I’m willin’ to be out for.”

“It’ll be real quick, in and out, promise.”

“...Alright.”

Vick, grinning, fully opened the window and climbed out, motioning for his newly acquired friend to follow—Andy obliged, clumsily, closing it tightly behind himself. As they went along, Andy noted that the pale teen would casually float above the grass rather than walk along, his legs dangling below—so too would he notice Vick’s aversion to direct sunlight, sticking beneath the canopies of the bushy trees as much as he could, lest he get a nasty tan. He’d noticed Vick’s strange features, from his pointy teeth to his pointy nose, his usage of shadowy magic and his overall pale complexion—a Vampire, like that of the horror stories he’d read as a child, the ones his parents would often detest—Andy’s only hope was that his batty friend would continue to find his tainted blood unappetizing.

The cabin wasn’t too far out from the town itself, being sat upon a small hill about half a mile from main street, surrounded in part by the great lake and its sprawling spiderweb of a water system. Andy did his best to ignore the horrors that were the city residents this time around, although a few scant appearances still managed to catch him off guard, such as the man made of worms or their skeletal acquaintances.

The duo did not stop at the main street as Andy had expected, but just a little ways north, more toward the slums, a busted-up brick jailhouse being all that dominated the otherwise squat skyline of the neighborhood—curiously still was when Vick halted in front of a run down looking complex with broken windows and vulgar graffiti adorning the walls. The place looked all but abandoned, yet the Vampire beamed at it with pride.

“And here we are,” Vick declared. “Just bought the place last month. Could probably use a fixer-upper but uh, well, do what you gotta do, ya know.”

“You…bought this entire building?”

“Nah, just a few units on the second floor for the operation. Place was originally built for some extra living space, but, you can see how that worked out.”

“...Not very well. What happened?”

Vick shrugged. “Well, uh, most of the tenants died.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, they ain’t haunting the place, as far as I know.”

Andy hadn’t been thinking about that, but now the thought would linger on like a rotten smell in a hot car. Thanks for that, Vick.

The two entered the short, decrepit building and clambored to the top, Andy constantly checking to make sure a phantasm hadn’t appeared on his shoulder on the way up.

Squeaaa-KUNK! The door swung open on its rusty hinges and battered the inside wall, the little springy doorstop meant to protect it having long since been decommissioned. Just inside, two more monstrous teenagers twist their heads toward the new arrivals—one appearing like a ghost with a man-bun, appearing to be in the middle of jotting something on a black typewriter—the other, one of those cyclopian insectoids, her four hands fiddling with a wiry device on a beanbag.

“Jeez, dude, easy on the door.” scorned the ghost. He stuck his oversized headphones back over his small ears.

“Who’s this?” asked the Xita.

“Ryan, Cici,” Vick introduced. “This’s Andy, the new kid I was telling you about.”

The two waved, Cici appearing much more excited than her ethereal contemporary—she almost lunged at Andy the second she heard ‘new kid’—must not get visitors often.

“Hi, hi, hi! Andy? Where’re you from?”

“Uh—Harpers Ferry.”

“Oh, wow! I don’t know where that is! Is it far?”

“Not too far, I reckon. I kinda…I kinda walked the whole way here, so…”

Cici laughed, shaking both of Andy’s hands, catching him off guard—it was the same feeling as holding up a large beetle, what with all the little setae on her palms—he could only manage a nervous half-smile throughout.

“When we get outta here, you’re gonna have to show me!”

“Yeah,” Vick scoffed. “In your dreams. We’re never leaving this town. I’d get used to it, if I were you.”

“Why not?” Andy asked with a slight squint. Vick took a few steps around the musky old room, hands falling to his hips, the cynical air trickling down the necks of his friends.

“Because Hudsonville ain’t a town, man, it’s like…basically a giant prison. The humans don’t want us messing around on their turf, hell, most of ‘em don’t even know we exist. The Rangers make sure of that. I mean, think about it for a second—you’ve seen for yourself what happens when our worlds collide.”

Cici side-eyed Andy, tongue clicking against her beak. The boy, in response, looked elsewhere, sheepish, dreading the expected question—thankfully, one that did not yet come—rather, the energetic Xita shifted the conversation into a lighter direction for the time being.

“So do you watch anime?”

Andy blinked. “Huh? No, I haven't heard about it.”

“She means her stupid cartoons.” Vick said while rolling his eyes. Cici began to stamp her feet..

“They’re not cartoons!”

With a ghostly rasp, Ryan chimed in. “It’s definitely cartoons.”

“Why’re you trying to rope the new kid into your dweeby crap?” Vick asked.

Grooaaan. Cici threw her head back and let out an exasperated sound, and in the midst of this slurry of frustrated retorts and pointless bickering, Andy came to a realization during his brief dissociation; This was normal—perhaps not in the traditional sense, but, this had been the first time since arriving here that things felt truly normal. These weren’t manipulative monsters trying to worm their way in with a silver tongue, they were just…teenagers. Teenagers like him.

Andy hadn’t made many friends back home—as much as he loved his mom and dad, he felt as though he’d always been a bit…sheltered. He’d been homeschooled, so his options were pretty limited, and the kids he knew from church had a tendency to be a bit uptight—not to say that he was a saint in that regard, either.

Still, maybe in this terrifying place, maybe he could let his guard down, even if it’s just a little bit.

“Hey, uh–” Andy attempted to speak above the increasing volume of the others—they continued to argue, louder and louder. The shouting was overstimulating. The boy’s heart began to pound.

“Hey!”

The others jumped as Andy raised his voice to an ear-splitting volume—they turned, brows crunched, mouths downturned. Andy stepped forward, swaying to and fro with hands clasped behind his back. His lips puckered with consideration. Sigh.

“I uh…I mean I like cartoons. Always up for watching some.”

Cici gave a defeated sigh as she felt the sneering gazes of the other two on her neck—nevertheless, her beak would seem to curve upward with a smile, antennae twitching.

“Okay! We’ll have to set that up, uh—my uncle is really picky about schedules.”

“It’s no problem. I ain’t really got nothin’ else to do, so, whenever works.” Andy replied.

“Great! Then uh…huh, you have a magic orb, right?”

“No?”

Cici touched her three fingers to her forehead, making a sort of oh, duh gesture.

“Sorry,” Snort. “You’re new here. We have like…these magic orbs that let us talk to each other from far away. It’s like your uh…”

“Telephones?” Vick offered.

“Yeah!” Cici snaps her fingers. “That’s it.”

“I ain’t too sure I got one of those, no.”

“Aw, dude, don’t worry, I’ll hook you up,” offered Ryan. “My older brother has a ton of scrap ones he’s always fixing up.”

“Oh, yeah, and you’ll need my spell,” Cici added, reaching around herself with all four arms before pulling out a pen and paper. “You’ll have to say this incantation a few times before it goes through—our service is a little weird.”

“...Bible says y’ain’t s’posed to do that.” Andy nervously spouted. The others giggled, Vick speaking for them in his usual smarmy tone.

“Trust me, man. You’re gonna need to open your mind a little bit more if you’re gonna fit in around here.”

While he yearned to take offense, Andy felt it best to heed his peer’s words for now. A way to communicate with the outside world—his cellphone had long since died, and he doubted there would be any reception in a valley entombed by the mountains. With eyebrows scrunched, he took the slip of paper Cici handed off to him, and said his thanks. Ryan, too, handed off a slip of paper, one with an expectantly goofy-sounding address.

“That’s my bro’s pawn shop. You don’t need to give him anything, I already put in a word for you—like I said, he’s got a ton of them.”

“I—gee, you sure?”

“Yeah, brah. Go for it. We don’t get an outsider every day—you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Ghouls like us, we don’t really last long in the outside world, like—there’s only a few select sanctuaries like this where we find ourselves living peacefully, yeah?”

“Most humans just want to kill us on sight—and they’re freakin’ everywhere,” Vick said. “Especially in these woods—ya know—rumor has it they’ve been getting closer to finding us. Didn’t you say you ran into a bunch of hunters?”

“You did?!” Cici exclaimed, bursting at the seams with questions—Ryan put out a palm.

“Chill. You’re gonna freak the kid out.”

Things in the room appeared to settle down once more, though Andy’s mind was still racing with questions. Ryan, thankfully, didn’t intend on leaving the boy waiting as he began to usher him toward the door.

“It’s gonna be alright, man. Dudes who live here, like—we’ve all been through it, man. If you need anything you can always holler. People are willing to help out.”

Andy sighed. “...I appreciate it.”

“Always, man. Now, get out of here before Cici explodes.”

Gulp. Right. Andy quickly moved out the door and down the stairwell, following the note toward his destination outside. It seemed for the first time, he might truly be on his own, especially considering the coaxing words of the boys upstairs toward their overly-eager friend. Cici pacified, and others, likely wishing to return to their work, would leave him well alone for long enough. A determined expression crossed the boy’s face.