Jessica’s heart pounded in her chest as she followed Salina and Kevin down the sun-dappled sidewalk. Every rustle of leaves, every distant bark of a dog, sent a jolt of adrenaline through her system. Her newly heightened senses were in overdrive, making the familiar streets of Moon Valley seem alien and threatening.

“Would you two slow down?” she hissed, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “I feel like we’re in some kind of weird heist movie.”

Salina rolled her eyes, but slackened her pace. “Sorry, Jessica. I just want to get home before my grandma starts her afternoon soap opera marathon. Once she’s glued to the TV, we’ll have a better chance of sneaking up to my room unnoticed.”

Kevin, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since they left his house, piped up. “You really think your werewolf book might have some answers?”

Jessica flinched at the casual use of the word ‘werewolf.’ It still felt surreal, like a bad dream she couldn’t shake off. “It better,” she muttered. “Otherwise, I might have to consider a life of hermitage in the woods.”

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Kevin offered, with a weak attempt at humor. “You’d save a fortune on razors.”

Jessica shot him a glare that could have melted steel. “Not. Funny.”

They turned onto Maple Street, and Salina’s house came into view. It was a quaint two-story Victorian, its white paint peeling slightly and its garden overgrown in a charming fairytale-cottage kind of way. Under normal circumstances, Jessica might have found it cozy. Now, it loomed before her like a fortress of secrets and potential disappointment.

As they approached the front porch, the door swung open, revealing Salina’s grandmother. Mrs. Carpenter was a tiny woman with a cloud of white hair and sharp eyes that belied her frail appearance. Those eyes widened in surprise as they landed on Jessica.

“Well, I’ll be,” Mrs. Carpenter exclaimed, her voice warm but tinged with confusion. “If it isn’t Jessica Tumblerlee! We’ve been hearing many worrying things about you, dear.”

Jessica froze, her mind racing. She hadn’t considered how to explain her sudden reappearance after being reported missing. “I, uh...”

Salina jumped in, her voice overly bright. “Jessica’s fine, Nana. Just a big misunderstanding. Right, Jessica?”

Nodding vigorously, Jessica found her voice. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for any trouble I might have caused. I was just... um...”

“Helping me with a secret project,” Kevin blurted out. “For the science fair. Top secret stuff. Very hush-hush.”

Mrs. Carpenter’s eyebrows rose skeptically, but a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I see. And this secret project required you to disappear without telling your father where you were?”

Guilt twisted in Jessica’s stomach. Her dad must be worried sick. “I know, it was stupid,” she admitted, her voice small. “I should have called him. I will, soon. I just... I need a little more time to sort some things out. Could you maybe not mention to anyone that you saw me? Please?”

The old woman studied Jessica for a long moment, her gaze shrewd and assessing. Finally, she sighed. “Alright, dear. I won’t say anything for now. But you make sure you call your father soon, you hear? I bet the poor man is worry sick about you.”

Relief flooded through Jessica. “Thank you, Mrs. Carpenter. I really appreciate it.”

Mrs. Carpenter waved them inside, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Now, how about some milk and cookies? I just baked a fresh batch this morning.”

The thought of food made Jessica’s stomach growl embarrassingly loud. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was–transforming into a werewolf apparently worked up quite an appetite.

Before she could accept the tempting offer, Salina grabbed her arm. “Sorry, Nana, no time for snacks. We’ve got important... science fair stuff to work on. Very time-sensitive experiments and all that.”

“But—” Jessica objected, the aroma of freshly baked cookies causing her mouth to water.

Salina’s grip tightened, and she began dragging Jessica towards the stairs. “Thanks anyway, Nana! We’ll be in my room if you need us!”

Kevin trailed behind them, shooting an apologetic look at Mrs. Carpenter. “Um, maybe we could take a raincheck on those cookies?” he suggested hopefully.

Jessica stumbled up the stairs, propelled by Salina’s surprising strength. As they reached the landing, she heard Mrs. Carpenter’s amused voice drift up from below.

“You kids have fun with your ‘science project.’ And Jessica? Remember what I said about calling your father!”

*****

Jessica stepped into Salina’s bedroom, her senses immediately assaulted by the eclectic mix of incense, old books, and something distinctly... otherworldly. The room was a far cry from Jessica’s own meticulously organized space, with its sports trophies and high school brochures. Here, every surface seemed to burst with an odd assortment of crystals, candles, and what looked suspiciously like animal bones.

“Geez, Salina,” Jessica murmured, her gaze fixed on a sinister-looking skull perched on the bookshelf. “Your room hasn’t changed a bit. Still channeling your inner Morticia Adams, I see.”

Salina rolled her eyes, but a smirk played at the corners of her mouth. “Some of us prefer a little mystery in our decor. Not everyone can pull off the ‘basic overachiever’ look like you, Barbie girl.”

As Kevin settled into Salina’s desk chair, spinning it nervously, Jessica’s gaze fell on a framed photograph nestled among the clutter. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the smiling faces–a much younger Salina, gap-toothed and red pigtailed, flanked by her parents. The park behind them was sun-drenched and idyllic, a stark contrast to the darkness that would soon engulf their lives.

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

Jessica remembered the day Salina had told her about the accident. They’d been thirteen, sprawled on Jessica’s bedroom floor, flipping through magazines and gossiping about boys. The confession had come out of nowhere. Salina’s voice was flat and detached as she described the screeching tires, the smell of burning rubber and gasoline, the helplessness of watching her parents’ car erupt into flames.

It was the day everything changed. Salina moved in with her grandmother and retreated into a world of occult studies and witchcraft. Jessica had tried to understand, to be supportive, but their friendship had inevitably drifted. Sometimes, embracing the darkness was the only way to keep the real horrors at bay.

“Earth to Jessica,” Salina’s voice snapped her back to the present. “You okay there? You looked like you were about to sprout fur for a second.”

Jessica shook her head, banishing the memories. “Sorry, just... reminiscing, I guess. So, what’s this magic book of yours?”

Salina’s eyes lit up as she pulled a thick, leather-bound tome from her bookshelf. The cover of the book had silver lettering that shimmered in the dim light, which said “Monsters of the Occult.”

“Seriously?” Jessica arched an eyebrow. “That’s what we’re pinning our hopes on? Sounds like something you’d find in the bargain bin at Hot Topic.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Salina retorted, plopping down on her bed and cracking open the book. “This is my favorite. It’s got many theories and folklore about monsters. Some of it’s probably bullshit, but there’s some really interesting stuff in here.”

Kevin leaned forward, curiosity overriding his usual shyness. “Like what?”

Salina’s fingers danced over the pages, flipping to a section near the middle. “Like this,” she said triumphantly, jabbing her finger at an illustration of a snarling, half-human creature. “The werewolf chapter.”

Jessica’s stomach churned as she stared at the drawing. It was too close for comfort to what she’d seen in the mirror that morning–the elongated snout, the razor-sharp teeth, the wild, inhuman eyes.

“What does it say?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Salina coughed and started reading. “Werewolves are humans transformed into half-wolf, half-human creatures. They possess enhanced strength, speed, and longevity. Historically, people have used spells, curses, and rituals to trigger the transformation, though these methods often come with negative side effects.”

“No kidding,” Jessica muttered, thinking of Mrs. Peel’s mangled body.

“The origins of werewolf craft are unclear,” Salina continued, “but they likely date back to the earliest written accounts of lycanthropy. To transform into a werewolf, you can either practice the craft or get bitten by a werewolf. The first transformation always occurs under a full moon, and if the newly turned werewolf hasn’t eaten properly beforehand, they may attack indiscriminately to satisfy their hunger.”

Jessica’s face paled. “So, when I... when I attacked Mrs. Peel, it was because I was... hungry?”

Kevin reached out, squeezing her shoulder gently. “It wasn’t your fault, Jessica. You didn’t know what was happening.”

Salina nodded in agreement before continuing. “According to the book, silver, heart removal, or decapitation can kill werewolves.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Jessica said dryly. “At least I know what to avoid if I want to keep my head attached to my shoulders.”

A thought struck her, and she felt her stomach lurch. “Oh God, does this mean I’m a... a cannibal now? Because I... I ate...”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, bile rising in her throat. Kevin looked like he might be sick too, but Salina remained focused on the book.

“Let’s worry about that later,” she said, her tone surprisingly gentle. “Right now, we need to figure out how this happened to you in the first place. Do you remember anything biting you before you went to detention?”

Jessica frowned, concentrating. A memory surfaced — darkness, trees looming overhead, a flash of teeth and claws. “I... I think something attacked me in the woods. There was a bite mark, but it vanished really quickly. I thought I’d imagined it.”

Salina’s eyes widened. “That’s it! There must be another werewolf in Moon Valley. It bit you and triggered your transformation.”

“Great,” Jessica groaned. “So now we’ve got a whole pack of murderous fur-balls running around town? This just keeps getting better and better.”

“Not necessarily,” Salina said, her voice taking on an excited edge that made Jessica nervous. “If we can find the werewolf that bit you and get a blood sample, I might make a potion to help you control your transformations.”

Jessica stared at her friend, incredulous. “A potion? Are you serious? This isn’t Hogwarts, Salina.”

Salina huffed, indignant. “The book explains various crafts for taming humans turned monsters. It’s risky, sure, but if it works, we’ll know this isn’t just a bunch of made-up crap.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Kevin asked, voicing the fear Jessica was too afraid to articulate.

Salina’s expression sobered. “Then... we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Jessica stood up abruptly, pacing the small room. Her mind raced with the implications of what they’d learned. On the one hand, the idea of controlling her transformations was tempting. On the other, the thought of hunting down another werewolf and concocting some mystical potion seemed ludicrous at best, suicidal at worst.

“This is insane,” she muttered, running a hand through her tangled hair. “We’re talking about magic and monsters like they’re real. Like any of this makes sense!”

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Salina said firmly. “It just has to work. What other choice do we have? Wait around for you to wolf out again and hope you don’t kill anyone else?”

Jessica flinched at the blunt words, but she couldn’t deny their truth. The image of Mrs. Peel’s broken body flashed through her mind, followed by the terrified faces of Kevin and her father…

Her father. Guilt crashed over her anew as she remembered his anguished expression when he’d confronted her in the street. He must be going out of his mind with worry.

“I need to see my dad,” she blurted. “Before we do anything else, I have to let him know I’m okay.”

Kevin and Salina exchanged worried glances. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Kevin asked hesitantly. “What are you going to tell him?”

Jessica squared her shoulders, a grim determination settling over her. “I don’t know. But I can’t keep hiding from him. He deserves to know... something. Even if I can’t tell him everything.”

Salina nodded, closing the book with a soft thud. “Okay. You go and tell your dad what you want to say while Kevin and I make a werewolf hunt plan.”

As the words left Salina’s mouth, the sheer absurdity of their situation hit Jessica like a punch to the gut. She let out a strangled laugh that bordered on hysterical.

“God, listen to us,” she said, shaking her head. “Werewolf hunts? Magic potions? When did our lives turn into a bad horror movie?”

Kevin cracked a weak smile. “Hey, look on the bright side. At least we’re not the dumb teenagers who split up to investigate the creepy noises.”

Jessica couldn’t help but smile, despite it all. “True. Though I’m pretty sure we tick all the other boxes for ‘most likely to die horribly in Act Two.’”

Salina rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her exasperation. “If you two are done with the comedy routine, we should probably start planning before it gets dark. I’d rather not have a repeat of last night’s performance.”

Jessica sobered quickly, the reality of their situation crashing back down. She was a werewolf. A monster. And now, apparently, a soon-to-be monster hunter. The world as she knew it had shattered, revealing a darker, more dangerous reality beneath.

But as she looked at her friends–Kevin, with his unwavering loyalty, and Salina, with her determination to bend the supernatural to her will–Jessica felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could figure this out together.

“Alright,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “Let’s do this. But first, I need to see my dad. No matter how crazy this all is, he deserves to know I’m safe.”

As Jessica left the house, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that their lives had changed irrevocably. The barrier separating the ordinary from the supernatural had been shattered, with no possibility of reversal.

Whatever came next, one thing was certain–nothing would ever be the same again.