The heavy ‘pitter-patter’ of rain splashed against the concrete, causing a cacophony of noise that threatened to deafen him. He leaned against the wall of the alley and desperately tried to catch his breath. He hardly even noticed as the rain dripped down his temples. He glanced around the corner of the wall, but between the rain and the darkness, he couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of him He tried to listen, but it was impossible. Thunder cracked overhead, and he jumped.

He ducked back around the wall. Laying his head against the cool brick of the building, he released a breath. He was in the clear. He allowed himself a couple of seconds of reprieve, before he pushed himself off the wall. But he didn’t make it more than a couple of steps before something snarled behind him. He froze, his chest constricting and his heart racing.

He didn’t look back. He just ran. He ran as fast as his legs would take him. His blood pumped in his ears. His lungs burned and his legs grew numb. The heavy ‘thump-thump-thump’ sounded like thunderclaps behind him. Growing closer and closer.

He turned the corner, and his leg caught on the corner of the alley. He toppled to the ground, water splashing as his palms scraped along the rough and patchy concrete. He tried to scramble to his feet. To escape.

Too late.

Fiery pain, worse than anything he’d ever felt before, seared through his ankle. He screamed, panic and agony intermingling in a cacophony of misery that was impossible to distinguish. He kicked out wildly with his free leg, and his foot found purchase against something hard. Sturdy. Like a wall of steel. The monster snarled, and a moment later, he felt himself suddenly weightless as he was thrown across the alley.

All of the air escaped his lungs as he slammed into the opposite wall. Stars erupted in his vision and he fell to the ground in a heap. A small voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to get up. That he needed to run. That he was in danger. But he was in too much pain, and the voice was drowned out by the noise in his ankle and the throbbing between his eyes. He managed to roll over, a pitiable groan escaping his lips. He glanced up, his eyes drawn to the strange mess of mangled flesh around his leg. His eyes narrowed, and he strained to see through the rain and stars in his vision to make out what he was looking at. 

Where his ankle had once been, was little more than torn flesh and bone.

Gone.

His attention was drawn to the mass of black creeping slowly through the rain. It appeared, a mass of black fur and glimmering teeth that shined through the darkness and the rain. Its massive eyes, bloodshot and crazed, bore into him. A mess of drool dribbled from the corners of its massive maw. He could see something red and pale trapped between its monstrous incisors. A strange fascination washed over him. He realized coldly that it was his big toe trapped in the spaces between its teeth. An odd foam dribbled from the corner of the creature’s maw, and its entire body shook, large tremors washing over its massive frame.

It stalked forward. A low growl reverberating around the alley before stopping, maybe only a couple of feet away. Its crazed eyes gazing into his own.

Then…it pounced.

Between the rain and the heavy claps of thunder, no one heard the screams or the tearing of flesh.

The Following Morning, an Hour South of Honor

Augustus “Gus” Woodward felt his jaw crack as he yawned widely. He blinked blearily, and took a deep pull of his coffee. The tasteless gas station brew had grown cold hours ago. He groaned, and massaged his thigh with his free hand. At several inches over six feet, his long legs did not love being cramped up in the car for hours. The light of the early morning was just beginning to crest the tops of the trees, and for a moment, he was distracted by the splendor of the moment. He’d always been a morning person. There was something captivating about the quiet moments of the early morning. Where the world itself seemed like it was still only just coming alive. Thin tendrils of light poking through the thick pines, refracting off the early dew and casting the world in a majestic glow.

In spite of how tired he was, a happy smile spread across Gus’ face. For the first time in years, he felt like was truly coming home. Gus had grown up with his adoptive parents in Northern Michigan, only a few hours away from he currently was. It had been a quiet, happy life, and it hadn’t taken much for Gus to fall in love with the natural beauty of the Northern Peninsula of Michigan.

He turned his attention back to the road, taking another sip of coffee, hissing in agitation as he did so. The once cool coffee had grown scaldingly hot. He glared at the offending beverage; he hated it when that happened. Doing his best to ignore his burning tongue, he glanced quickly at the clock on the dash. He had been on the road for nearly twenty-four hours, since landing in Atlanta, and he’d only stopped once for a brief four-hour respite after crossing the Ohio border into Michigan’s Lower Peninsula. He still likely had an hour or so before he reached his destination.

Honor, Michigan was a small, middle of nowhere town. Spitting distance from Lake Superior, it had once been one of the mining and logging hubs in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century. But after the veins dried up, and logging shifted further south, the town had all but disintegrated. At least until about sixty years ago when the Norther Michigan Technical Institute had been founded. The university had breathed new life into the region, and it had since blossomed into a pleasant little city.

Gus had only recently been accepted into the University. Luckily, the end of his contract with the Marines had coincided with the start of the fall semester, which meant that he had been able to immediately pack up his things after return from deployment, and begin making his way to Michigan. It had been an easy choice, coming back home. He’d grown up only a few hours away from Honor, and after four years in the desert, he wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by trees and with the big lake only a ten minutes’ walk away.

He and his parents had moved to the UP when he was five, and it hadn’t taken long for Gus to fall in love. He and his parents had spent years wandering through the forests, fishing in the many small creeks, streams, and rivers. It was his home, and a comfortable warmth spread through his chest and dopey smile fell on his face. It was peaceful here. Quiet. It was everything he wanted.

It was another hour on the highway, before he the large trees of the wilderness began to give way to the sights of civilization. Honor was a comfortable small city. There may be only five or six thousand year-round residents, but with all of the students the town was large enough to comfortably fit ten to twelve thousand. The highway took him right into the heart of downtown. It was very much the epitome of small-town Americana, with the feel of a city that certainly been a company town once upon a time. The downtown buildings were all red brick, lined up one after the other, stretching on for a mile or so. Family owner businesses, bars, and the odd restaurant. From the distance, Gus could see the top spire of the marble building of the legislative building.

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It was close enough to the start of classes that students were already milling about. New students were meandering around the streets in groups of five to six. Gus chuckled to himself; he could imagine how happy the locals were to have the students back in town. If there was one thing Northerners hated more than leavers-people who drove up in the fall to watch the leaves change colors-it was students.

As he was passing the post office, his attention was drawn away from the road and to a commotion in one of the nearby alleys. There were half a dozen police cars lining the alley, and Gus could see a flurry of activity. He frowned, but shrugged it off for the time being.

Turning out of downtown, he got his first glimpse of the campus. Gus had been to Honor a couple of times when he was a kid, and had seen the campus before. But in the last ten years or so, the campus had exploded. The number of students enrolling in NMTI had tripled, almost overnight, and the campus had grown to reflect that. It was like passing into a new world. Gone were the brick and mortar of a nineteenth century company town, and in their place were the modern masterpieces of the twenty-first century. There were five buildings dedicated solely to classes, each one three stories tall. Not enormous by any means, but they appeared Goliath in comparison to their surroundings.

The many residence halls for new students dotted the remainder of the well-maintained landscapes. He counted himself lucky that, due to his age, he wasn’t required to stay in one of the freshman dorms. After four years of bunking knee to knee in uncomfortable barracks, he wanted nothing to do with the cramped quarters of a dorm room. He’d managed to find a townhome that was only a five-minute walk from campus. He’d gotten lucky, one his best friends as a kid was a graduate student at the university, and had helped him find a place. He had a bottle of Thomas’ favorite brand of whisky in the trunk as thank you.

But as Gus turned down the road of his townhouse, his good mood evaporated.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered. Large, ornate homes lined each side of the road. Stenciled on the roofs of each of the houses were ostentatiously decorated Greek letters.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to drown him in the fucking lake.”

Thomas had put him in the middle of Frat Row. Surrounded on all sides by loud, drunk children. It was the opposite of what he’d wanted. His good mood thoroughly soured, he focused back on finding his home. Squared away exactly halfway down the road, his two-story townhouse looked very out of place next to the rest of the large homes. It looked like much of the neighborhood had been bought out years ago, and his new home was maybe one of only a half dozen townhomes left.

It was a simple home, a two-level building of cedar. The dull blue paint had faded considerably with time, and what was once likely bright blue had now faded to a light periwinkle. Some of the paint was peeling away from the walls, and while the building had certainly seen better years, it was still his. Well, not technically. Technically he was renting it from a friend of Thomas’, but it was still going to be his home for the next four years, and that thought was enough to douse the agitation of living amongst the fraternities.

As he parked in the gravel driveway, he saw a figure lounging on a worn rocking chair. Gus smiled, as he recognized the mop of tangled brown hair. Thomas Leigh stood as Gus got out of the car, a wide smile on his face. Thomas wasn’t a tall man, standing at only a couple inches over five foot, he was a portly guy. The gut of a man who’d indulged in a little too much fun in college, and whose weight had been compounded by stress induced by graduate school. His long brown hair was pulled into a sloppy bun, and his dull brown eyes lit up as he descended the steps towards Gus.

“Gus!” Cried out Thomas, his squeaky voice chiming in excitement, “About time you got here!”

Gus approached his old friend, and they embraced. Gus’ considerably larger frame dwarfing Thomas’.

“Good to see you too,” Gus chuckled, before scowling and breaking off the embrace. He shoved the smaller man lightly, glowering down at him. “You didn’t think to mention that the house was in the middle of Frat Row?”

To his credit, Thomas flinched under the scrutiny, withdrawing into himself slightly as he scratched at the back of his neck.

“Would you believe me if I said I forgot?” He asked sheepishly. Gus scowled, and Thomas sighed, “Look,” he explained, “It was one of the only properties in the city within your budget, and I knew you’d never sign if you knew it was here. So, I lied a little, because I didn’t want think you wanted to try and spend three times your allotted budget.”

That quelled Gus’ agitation a bit. He sighed, “Still should have at least warned me.” He grumbled, glaring over his shoulder at one of the offending buildings. “Would have liked to prepare myself to be surrounded by drunk toddlers.”

Thomas rolled his eyes in exasperation. He turned on his heel and began climbing back up the steps, Gus followed suit. 

“They’re, at most, only five years younger than you,” said Thomas.

“Five years is a long time,” Gus countered, “Especially when your brain is still developing.”


“Fair enough, but still, quit acting like you're some aged hermit. You’re 23, not 73.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and Thomas opened the door to the house, leading the way inside.

“The movers finished up yesterday,” said Thomas, “Nice that they were able to basically get everything set up for you.”

“That was the plan,” agreed Gus as he examined the space. It was comfortable inside. Simple. Exactly how he had wanted it. The house opened into a small living room. A comfortable, slightly worn couch lay in the center, facing a respectably sized television. A couple of comfortable looking arm chairs surrounded the perimeter of the couch. There was a staircase on the opposite side of the room, leading up to the small upstairs, and a door leading to the kitchen and dining area on the other side.

“Must be nice having the scratch to throw around on all of this,” said Thomas forlornly, gazing around at the comfortable living space.

Gus shrugged, “Not like I’m made of money,” he said, “But I have four years’ worth of money saved up and didn’t have anything to spend it on. Hard to spend a paycheck when on Deployment, and it’s not like I really have anyone to provide for.”

Gus hadn’t meant it as a loaded comment, but Thomas flinched all the same. It had been common knowledge in Paradise when Gus’ parents had passed, and he hadn’t exactly taken their losses well.

“C’mon,” said Thomas, clearly looking for a distraction. “Lemme show you the rest of the house.”

The kitchen was similarly small but comfortable. The appliances and stove and oven congregated alone one side on a large island, with a small, sturdy-looking dining table made of solid oak sat in on the other. Four similarly made chairs were arrayed around the outside. 

“Mind if I ask you where you found all the furniture?” Asked Thomas as Gus carefully examined the kitchen, checking the trim along the edges of the wall for signs of tear.

“Online distributor,” he said absently, “Some overstock site. Managed to get all of this stuff pretty cheap.” He ran a finger along the edge of the window sill, finding that there was a small gap between the edge of the frame and the window. He would need to cover that else risk snow getting in during the harsh winters.

They proceeded then out of the kitchen, and up the rickety staircase. He noted in some dismay, that each step creaked rather painfully with each step. The acoustics were strong in the home, and the noise seemed to bounce around them like a particularly angry trumpet. There were only two rooms on the second floor. The first was a simple bathroom, with toilet and shower complete with tub. He’d need to go out and pick up some curtains. Luckily, he needn’t worry about towels. Though he should probably buy at least one, if for no other reason than he needed to maintain appearances.

Moving on, they entered the final room of the house. The lone bedroom was easily the biggest room in the house, not that Gus was going to complain. The rear of the room was lines by beautiful bay windows that shot out over the backyard, which gifted Gus with a simply spectacular view of the surrounding wilderness. More natural light flowed in from the pair of skylight windows in the ceiling. It was a good thing there was as much natural light in the room as there was, because it didn’t look like the internal wiring for the building extended all the way up to the bedroom. He didn’t see any lights, and only a single outlet beside the queen-sized bed under the far bay window. A simple dresser sat along the far wall, with a suitably sized closet directly across.

Like the rest of the house, it was simple.


Which was why Gus loved it.

Thomas saw the soft smile on Gus’ face, and clapped his friend on the back.

“Welcome home Bud.”

Gus smiled, “Thanks man. Seriously, I know I gave you shit earlier, but thank you. You’ve been awesome during all of this, helping me out and all.”

Thomas shrugged, and tried to brush him off, “Just trying to help out,”


“Well, you’ve been doing more than that Tommy,” said Gus seriously, “I’m serious. I’m really thankful for you…you know that, right?”

Thomas shifted his feet, averting his gaze. He’d always had a hard time dealing with praise, it was something that Gus could relate to himself.

“You help me out, I help you,” said Thomas noncommittally, “That’s what friends do, right?”

Gus knew he wasn’t going to get much more than that out of his friend for the time being, so he simply nodded.

He turned back to his apartment, a smile on his face. It felt good to be home.