Nia’s boots crunched on the manicured gravel of the driveway, a jarring counterpoint to the symphony of cicadas that pulsed through the suburban air. The sun-dappled streets, a shadow against the pastel paradise of Maplewood Heights, were encased in fences and bushes. Dew-kissed grass in this suburban oasis vibrated with normalcy.
The crisp morning air, laced with the scent of honeysuckle and freshly cut grass, seemed a world away from the stench and guttural growls of the ravaged city. Here, in this suburban haven, the houses stood like sentinels, their lawns and hedges whispering of times when the world hadn’t bled into shades of crimson and bone.
Occasional conversations between neighbors were a jarring intrusion into Nia’s senses. Human routines untouched by the maelstrom that had ripped the world apart. Every rustle of leaves, every distant bark, held the potential to herald the arrival of ferals.
Yet, beneath the veneer of tranquility, the scent of blooming flowers wafted through the air. An intoxicating sweetness being a dam against the copper tang of blood carried by distant breezes. The normalcy here was a punch to the gut to anyone escaping the apocalyptic massacre. The wind, usually a playful companion, carried a faint whiff of something. Something dangerous. Deadly.
The street, frozen in a tableau of normalcy, mocked her. Houses, painted in pastel hues, stood like soldiers in dress blues, a facade of order against the encroaching chaos. The calm prickled the hairs on Nia’s arms, a prickle echoed by the instinctual twitching her spine. The obliviousness of everyone here felt like a taunt, a delusion of control, as the world was ripping apart at the seams.
Nia could smell it, a faint, musky tang that spoke of damp fur and hidden teeth. It clung to the leaves, lingered in the shadows, a whisper in the wind. The wolves, who were soon to be here, hidden among the trees, cloaked in the complacency of their prey. She navigated the maze of identical streets, her bare feet silent on the asphalt. Her eyes, the same shade of molten gold as the rising sun, scanned every corner, every shadow. The once-familiar scent of gasoline and exhaust had been replaced by the earthy musk of damp grass.
Suburban normalcy, once a haven, now felt like a cage, the neat rows of houses a trap waiting to spring on the owners. Every chirping bird, every barking dog, becoming alert as snails on salt. The very air crackled with anticipation, pregnant with the growls of nightmares and the scent of spilled blood. Nia’s gaze lingered on a backyard swing set, a basketball hoop in front of a garage, parked cars still as stone sentinels.
Nia knew her mission here was more than just disobedience to her uncle. It was an ache, a need whispered in the teeth of the storm. This idyllic neighborhood, this fragile island of normalcy, was a microcosm of the world before the Call, a world that had fallen prey to its own complacency, its own denial. And Nia, the harbinger of shadows, was here to remind them of the wolves at the door.
Her boots crunched on, a lone echo in the street, her silhouette a stark contrast against the pastel facades. Nia, the wolf who chose to continue searching for her mother, the hunter who walked among the hunted, was here to awaken the slumbering giants and throttle them until they reveal her mother\s location. The wolves might be at the door, but Nia intended to make them regret knocking. The houses watched her pass, their secrets simmering beneath their paint-chipped smiles. Up ahead, she caught sight of her prey.
Renai, a 27-year-old Icelandic woman with a captivating blend of Nordic charm and modern elegance, fumbled with a laundry basket. Her striking features reflected the rugged beauty of her heritage, with fair, porcelain skin that often blushed gently in the colder weather. Her eyes, a vivid shade of icy blue, mirrored the tranquil depths of the glaciers.
[https://storage.googleapis.com/rocky-production/story_images/big_8438ce66c0ce50ade5d671e3a7b772a0.jpg](Image credit: [Renai] Gencraft AI prompt generated]
She moved to a mid-sized beige car. Her style was a mix of classic Scandinavian minimalism and contemporary American trends. She wrapped herself in a cozy wool sweater, exuding both warmth and sophistication. Contrary to her reserved and composed demeanor, she has an adventurous spirit that gleamed through her eyes. She embodied in a natural way her lovingly homeland of dire and ice.
As she came around the car, she glanced up to her home with a red roof. Large bushes rose behind her, blocking the line of sight from the neighbors. Her daughter, Katrin, bridged the two worlds of America and Iceland. She was engrossed in her smartphone. The small American suburb was a typical low-middle-class-style ranch neighborhood.
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Renai and her daughter, Katrin, were busy loading groceries into the car when the wind suddenly picked up, threatening to carry away a piece of clothing. “Katrin, can you help me with this?” Renai asked, trying to secure the flying garment.
“Hurry, before the weather changes,” Renai urged as she struggled with the clothing. Katrin giggled and quickly assisted her mom, placing the basket in the car to prevent it from flying away.
With the laundry loaded, Renai turned to her daughter, “How’d you do on your test?”
“I think I did well,” Katrin replied.
“With that cute tutor of yours, I know you did,” Renai teased, making her daughter blush.
“Mom! She and I are friends,” Katrin protested, trying to dismiss any romantic notions.
“Hmm,” Renai responded playfully, not entirely convinced.
Katrin playfully sighed, “Mom!”
Suddenly, a dusky gold-colored werewolf appeared behind Katrin, sending Renai into a frozen state of fear. However, she managed to hold her composure and warned her daughter, “Don’t turn around.”
“What’s behind me?” Katrin asked, sensing something was amiss.
“Just don’t,” Renai insisted, trying to protect her daughter from the menacing creature.
Nia’s voice broke the tense atmosphere, “I heard a rumor that someone under a red roof would be my friend.”
Renai recognized the voice and spun around to see Nia standing with her hands on her hips. She stood her ground, saying firmly, “I will not betray the Get. I don’t care what honey word Supatra told you.”
Nia approached with a regal demeanor, walking down the driveway.
“You cannot harm my daughter. She doesn’t have anything to do…” Renai began, but Nia cut her off.
“I’m not the villain. I only want to know what happened,” Nia stated, surprising Renai.
The mother and Nia faced each other, tension rising between them.
Katrin, sensing the danger, said anxiously, “Mom?”
“It’s okay,” Renai assured her daughter, trying to keep her calm.
Nia’s tone softened, “Of course, it is. It took me a while to figure it out. But you were a witness.”
Renai admitted, “I was. But I can’t.”
Nia moved closer, adopting a menacing demeanor, “For her sake, I hope you can. Or, I’ll have Marisol rip her apart.”
“You won’t.,” Renai asserted, refusing to back down.
The tense encounter between Renai, Katrin, and Nia continued, with Nia demanding answers from Renai. She pressed, “Exactly. So tell me.”
There was a brief pause as Renai weighed her options, her mind racing with memories of the past. She took a deep breath and finally began to speak, her voice tinged with emotion, “It was a long time ago. There was an incident, a clash between our kind and the humans. It was a night of terror, and in the chaos, one of the humans, a young girl, was caught in the crossfire.”
Nia’s gaze remained intense, her eyes locked onto Renai’s as she listened intently.
“Katrin and I were there. We were witness to it all,” Renai continued. Her voice trembled slightly as she recalled the traumatic event. “I tried to intervene to stop the violence, but it was too late. The girl was fatally injured, and she... she died right in front of us.”
Marisol, the werewolf standing by Katrin’s side, could sense her fear and distress. She placed a reassuring paw on Katrin’s shoulder, but the sudden contact startled the young woman. Overwhelmed with terror, Katrin let out a blood-curdling scream, her body trembling as she involuntarily released her fear, and a puddle formed at her feet.
Renai was torn between her need to protect her daughter and her desire to confront the past and find closure. She took a step closer to Nia, her resolve strengthening. “I can’t undo what happened that night, Nia. But I won’t let you harm my daughter. She’s innocent, and she shouldn’t suffer for the mistakes of the past.”
Nia’s expression softened slightly, and she seemed to understand Renai’s predicament. “I know you want to protect her,” Nia said, her voice gentler now. “But I need answers, Renai. The truth needs to come out, no matter how painful it may be.”
Renai hesitated, torn between her loyalty to the Get and her motherly instincts to shield her daughter from harm. Finally, she decided, “I’ll tell you everything. But not here, not now. Katrin doesn’t need to know.”
Nia regarded Renai for a moment, before nodding in agreement. “Fine. Just us,” she proposed, giving Renai a chance to share her side of the story.
Renai looked at her daughter, who was shaking from the encounter, and then back at Nia. “Agreed,” she said firmly. “But remember, I won’t let anything happen to Katrin.”
Nia’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the animosity between them seemed to lessen. “I understand,” she replied, her tone indicating that she had a deeper understanding of the complexities of the situation.
As the tension began to subside, Marisol gently guided Katrin away from the confrontation. It appeared odd that a golden werewolf walked the teenager back into her home.
Katrin felt terrified, but complex feelings rose up from within. “Mom? What’s this about?”
Renai locked her gaze into her child’s eyes. “She wants to know about her mom.” She turned back to Nia. “I love you, Katrin.” She paused, judging the expression on Nia’s face. “We’ll be okay. No go inside, alright?”
Katrin was heard screaming as Marisol shifted into a human within the home.
Renai locks eyes with Nia as it dawns on her - she’s not leaving.
"What happened?” Nia slide onto the trunk of the car and sat there watching Renai. She resigned herself to the situation.
“I was a witness when your mom left.”