《Kat Lupin: Wolf Girl》 Chapter 1: Just one Night I wanna go home. Don¡¯t get me wrong. The forest is nice and all. Sure, the pine trees smell great and the stream sounds real peaceful, like mom singing a soft lullaby when I was little. But honestly, camping isn¡¯t my thing. All the hiking hurts my feet, and campfires make my hair smell all burnt and smoky. And I don¡¯t even want to talk about the whole toilet situation. Let¡¯s leave that a mystery, okay? I miss PS5, my cozy bed, and frozen four-cheese pizza. At least I have Bizbee with me. She¡¯s a cute black and brown mutt with yellow eyes. Part Australian cattle dog, part who knows. Usually, Bizbee is the best girl in the world. But right now, she¡¯s annoying the crap out of me. As we walk across the campground, she tugs hard on her leash. SNIFF. SNIFF. SNIFF. She¡¯d smell every pinecone in the forest if I let her. We find my mom in a clearing, busy scooping up branches and twigs off the ground. ¡°To feed the fire,¡± she says. I ask her if we can leave early. Mom dumps the wood in a pile and wipes her hands on her shorts. It¡¯s the end of summer and the sun is shining. She squints down at me. ¡°Katrina, we¡¯ve only been here three hours.¡± ¡°Seriously? It feels like three days.¡± ¡°You¡¯re so dramatic,¡± Mom says. ¡°Give it a chance, okay Kat? We¡¯re just staying one night. We¡¯ve got to check this place out for the trip next month.¡± Oh yeah, next month. I almost forgot. Mom is not only my mom. She¡¯s also my troop leader. Next month, she¡¯s taking me and a pack of Sunflower Scouts up here for a whole weekend. That¡¯s two days of achy feet and annoying campfire songs. Two days without Youtube or video games. YUCK! That¡¯s why we¡¯re here today, to check out the campsite and get the ¡°lay of the land.¡± Those are mom¡¯s words. No thirteen-year-old would ever say something like ¡°lay of the land.¡± ZIPPPPP. I hear the zipper of our tent behind me. My little sister Emily crawls out. I say little, but she¡¯s only a year younger than me and just as tall. She¡¯s got that evil, vampire smile on her face. Full on Nosferatu. She always shows it when she teases me. I¡¯ve seen that smile a lot. ¡°Maybe Kat is scared,¡± says Emily. Unlike me, she loves camping. Loves hiking boots and sleeping bags. Loves campfire beans more than frozen pizza. Crazy, right? ¡°Scared?¡± I bend down close to Bizbee, giving her neck a hug. ¡°What¡¯s there to be scared of?¡± Emily doesn¡¯t speak at first. Just keeps smiling that evil smile and points at the big old mountains behind us. ¡°You know what they call those, right?¡± ¡°The Silver Creek Mountains,¡± I say. ¡°Everybody knows that.¡± Emily shakes her head. ¡°No, I mean do you know their real name?¡± My mom sighs and rolls her eyes again. She does that A LOT. ¡°Emily, stop teasing.¡± Emily ignores my mom and stares at me, all spooky like. She¡¯s got blonde hair and light skin like my mom, but her eyes are like black marbles. ¡°Their true name is the Wolf Mountains.¡± ¡°Yeah, right,¡± I say. ¡°Next you¡¯re going to tell me it¡¯s full of huge, man-eating wolves.¡± Emily opens her mouth to answer me. But before she gets a chance, an eerie noise echoes through the forest. Bizbee¡¯s tail goes between her legs and she lets out a whimper. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. The noise was a blood-chilling howl¡­ A wolf¡¯s howl. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be afraid of,¡± says Mom. ¡°Wolves mostly stay away from humans.¡± ¡°Mostly?¡± I ask. My voice sounds all squeaky. ¡°We¡¯re perfectly safe, Katrina.¡± But Mom doesn¡¯t look so sure. She glances at the trees nervously. Even in the middle of the day, it¡¯s dark under those pines. Too dark. We freeze like statues, listening¡­, waiting for another howl. I feel my heart beating, faster and faster. I peek over at Emily. She looks nervous too. But that¡¯s impossible, I tell myself. Emily isn¡¯t afraid of anything. The forest goes quiet. All the bugs shut up at once. The birds in the trees stop chirping. Even the wind seems to quit blowing. It¡¯s super creepy. Then, after a minute of weird silence, everything goes back to normal. ¡°I think I¡¯ll read my scout manual,¡± says Emily. Her voice shakes and her skin turns pale. She walks backwards a few steps then turns and scampers into the tent. I hear the zipper, then she¡¯s gone. ¡°Now can we go home?¡± I ask my mom. Mom shakes her head. ¡°If we left now, it¡¯d be dark before we got to the jeep. We¡¯ll have to wait for morning, when the sun comes up.¡± ¡°So what do we do until then?¡± Mom scratches Bizbee behind the ear and grins at me. ¡°We¡¯ll build a great big fire and make smores. Not just any smores, but the best, most chocolatey smores anyone¡¯s ever tasted. Deal?¡± ¡°Deal,¡± I say. Together, we walk around the clearing and gather more firewood. I try not to think about the howl, but I keep peeking back at the trees. I imagine a pair of black eyes deep in the shadows, all glossy and shinning. Those eyes¡­ they¡¯re watching me. But that¡¯s just my imagination going crazy. Isn¡¯t it? *** At dinnertime, Emily chomps a hotdog and teases me about being a vegetarian. ¡°Hey Kat, I got a snack for you,¡± she says, and tosses a pinecone at me. I try to bat it out of the air, but I miss completely. The cone bounces off my forehead with a thump. ¡°Ouch. Very funny.¡± Emily laughs. I ignore her and go back to eating my dinner¡ªranch house beans out of a metal cup. The beans aren¡¯t bad. Not as good as a four-cheese, deluxe pizza or anything, but they taste okay. I spoon out the last mouthful and watch our crackling fire. The sun has gone down and the campfire embers float in the dark like fireflies. For a moment, I forget all about my iPad and Youtube videos. Of course, I¡¯d never admit that to Mom. After dinner, Mom keeps her promise and lets us make the greatest smores the world has ever tasted! We use an entire Hershey bar for each smore, melting the yummy cholate with gooey, golden-brown marshmallows. I tell you, my mom is wrong about a lot of things. She likes weird music and boring TV shows. But the woman sure knows how to toast a freakin¡¯ marshmallow. With our bellies full of chocolatey goodness, we crawl into the tent and slip into our sleeping bags. It feels good to lie down after such a long day. Bizbee curls up next to me, her fur warm and soft. Crickets chip and the wind whispers through the trees. It¡¯s so peaceful, that I forget all about Wolf Mountain and that scary howl. I wait until Emily starts snoring, then I dig Miss Hoppy out of my pack. She¡¯s a cute stuffed kangaroo with button eyes, floppy ears, and a pouch to hold a kid¡¯s secret treasures¡ªPokemon cards¡­ pretty marbles¡­ shiny new quarters¡­. I¡¯ve loved this thing since I was three years old. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Mom whispers in the dark. She lies on her side next to me, smiling. ¡°I won¡¯t tell Emily.¡± I hug the kangaroo tight. ¡°She calls it my emotional support stuffie. Seriously, I know it¡¯s immature that I can¡¯t sleep without it. But she doesn¡¯t have to tease me so much.¡± ¡°That¡¯s just what sisters do, honey. But it won¡¯t be forever. She¡¯ll grow out of it. You both will.¡± Mom reaches over and strokes my hair. ¡°Everything changes, Kat. Whether we want it to or not.¡± I hug my kangaroo again and drift off to sleep, thinking about my mom smiling at me in the dark. Everything changes. *** SNAP! The sound of a breaking twig wakes me up¡­ to a nightmare! I¡¯m not in my tent. Not tucked into a comfy sleeping bag. I¡¯m not even lying down at all. I¡¯m standing in the middle of the forest. All alone in the dark. Oh no. No! No! No! I must have been sleepwalking again. Sometimes back home, I would stumble around the house late at night, in a deep slumber. But now, I was a long way from home. ¡°Mom?!¡± I call out. ¡°Mom, where are you?¡± But nobody answers. How far have I gone? My bare feet are all scratched up from walking on pine needles and rocks. I can¡¯t see our campsite anywhere. My heart races. My throat tightens up. Then I hear it¡­ SNAP! Another twig breaks in the night. But this time, it wasn¡¯t me who stepped on it. Slowly, I turn towards the sound. Deep among the trees, I see a pair of eyes, gleaming in the dark. They¡¯re low to the ground¡ªright where a wolf¡¯s eyes would be. And they¡¯re coming closer. Chapter 2: Fur and Fangs Sniffing the ground, the wolf stalks out of the shadows. But it¡¯s no wolf at all. ¡°Bizbee!¡± I cry out. I¡¯ve never been so happy to see that goofy mutt in all my life. I hug her tightly and she gives my face a sloppy, slobbery ¡°you¡¯re-welcome¡± lick. ¡°Come on, girl,¡± I say. ¡°Lead me back to camp, okay?¡± Bizbee tilts her head at me. She looks confused. ¡°Find Mom,¡± I tell her. ¡°Find Mom and I¡¯ll give you a big, fat treat.¡± Hearing the word treat, Bizbee whips her tail back and forth like crazy. She barks happily and scampers back into the trees. I chase after her, feeling lucky. A full moon hangs in the sky, so there¡¯s enough light to see where I¡¯m going. My feet ache, but I¡¯m too relieved to even care. ¡°Hey wait up!¡± I shout. Bizbee stops, looking back to make sure I¡¯m still following. She looks as happy as I feel. But then something changes in her. She sniffs the air and lets out a pitiful whimper. Her swishing tail stops wagging and drops down between her legs. ¡°Bizbee? What is it, girl? What¡¯s wrong with¡­¡± I never finish my sentence. Something hits me like a cannonball. Something big, black, and furry. I fly off my feet and hit the ground with a THUD! Then the thing is on me. I see a flash of white fangs. I raise my right hand to protect my face. A sharp jolt of pain shoots up my arm. The thing¡­ It BIT me! I jerk my arm out of the thing¡¯s mouth and scurry away like a crab. Warm blood oozes on my skin. The THING prowls forward into a pool of moonlight. I finally get a good look at it. It¡¯s a wolf. Not just any wolf, but a huge, black wolf at least four times bigger than Bizbee. Its eyes are gray and ice cold. I¡¯m too scared to move. Too scared to even cry. This is can¡¯t be happening! It just can¡¯t! My whole body trembles as the beast gets closer and closer. I see blood dripping from its fangs¡­ MY BLOOD. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m about to see a lot more of it. Just when I think I¡¯m a goner, a second wolf bursts out of nowhere. This one is smaller with golden brown fur and piercing blue eyes. It crashes into the dark wolf and both of them tumble across the ground. Together, they smack against a tree and separate for a moment. The wolves circle each other. They growl and show off their teeth. Then, at the same time, they leap! This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I¡¯ve never seen wolves fight before, not even on NAT GEO. I sit there frozen, staring at the frenzy of fur and fangs. The wolves snarl and snap with those massive teeth. Their claws rake each other¡¯s skin, drawing blood. I can¡¯t look away. Bizbee nudges me with a cold nose. She lets out a whimper that shakes me out of my trance. I grip my arm. Blood oozes between my fingers. ¡°Come on girl,¡± I say, getting to my feet. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡± I¡¯ve never run so fast in my life. In gym class, our coach always calls me turtle girl. But tonight, I¡¯d leave the whole track team in my dust. I sprint down a path through the trees. Fast as lightning. I ignore my aching feet. I ignore the tree branches whipping against my face, stinging my skin. I even forget about the gushing wolf bite on my arm. I just run. And Bizbee is right there beside me. She¡¯s faster than me. She could leave me if she wanted to. But she sticks by my side. Behind us, the snarling grows louder and louder. I imagine the wolves ripping each other apart. Are they fighting over me? Does the winner get to eat me? I hear a sharp yelp and the snarling stops. I guess the fight is over. It doesn¡¯t really matter who won. Either way, I¡¯m a late-night snack. My bare toe catches a rock, and I fall like friggin'' Humpty Dumpty. My chest thumps the ground hard and all the air whooshes out of my lungs. I bite my lip to keep from crying out. I want to cry. Really bad. But if I do, the wolf will hear me. I try to stand. It¡¯s no use. My legs feel shaky and weak. My vision is all blurry. I¡¯m losing too much blood. I wish my mom was here. I wish Mom would save me. But I know Mom isn¡¯t coming. Bizbee nudges me again. I can almost hear her voice begging me. Get up! Get up! I force myself to stand. Stumbling into a clearing, I spot a cave in the side of Wolf Mountain. It¡¯s got grey wood all around it, like a picture frame. No, not a cave. It¡¯s a mine shaft. It¡¯s dark, and I just know there are all sorts of creepy spiders and bats in there. I don¡¯t care. Me and Bizbee crawl inside the shaft and hide in the darkness. I hug her tight and hold my breath. My heart rattles like a drum beat¡­ boom, boom, boom, boom, boom¡­ It¡¯ll be okay. I think to myself. We¡¯re safe. It won¡¯t find us here. I¡¯m dead wrong. A wolf slinks out of the trees into moonlit clearing. But it¡¯s not the massive black wolf, or the smaller golden brown one. It¡¯s a white wolf, with fur like clean snow. I stare at the animal in awe. It¡¯s noble¡­ beautiful even. Except for its eyes. They¡¯re black as oil yet somehow gleaming in the darkness. I¡¯ve never seen anything like them in my life. No, that¡¯s not true. I saw those eyes earlier at the campsite, watching me from the trees. A rock sticks out of the ground, splattered with my blood. I grasp my wounded arm, and try not to make a sound. The white wolf laps up my blood and sniffs the air. Then it turns its furry head and looks right at me. Chapter 3: Grisly Fairy Tale A bone-shaking scream escapes my lips. Bizbee stands in front of me and bares her teeth. She¡¯s trying to act brave for me, trying to protect me. But her entire body shudders. She¡¯s terrified. We both are. The white wolf curls its own lips back, showing us its fangs as it stalks towards the cave. Like it¡¯s smiling at us¡­ an evil smile! ¡°Go away! Get out of here!¡± I scream my lungs out, trying to scare the wolf off. My shout echoes down the mine shaft. Beside me, Bizbee lets out a fierce growl. The fur on her back rises up, going all bristly. The white wolf is not impressed. Slowly, it keeps prowling towards us, like it has all the time in the world. Bizbee and I scurry backwards, deeper into the dark mine. But it¡¯s no use. There¡¯s no way we can escape a wolf. I clutch my bloody arm and cringe. Always thought I¡¯d be an old lady someday. I¡¯d play cards with my old lady friends and give my grandkids birthday cards with money inside. Guess that¡¯s not going to happen now. Instead, I¡¯m gonna be EATEN ALIVE, like some dumb kid in one of those grisly fairytales. SNIFF. SNIFF. I open my eyes to see the white wolf at the edge of the cave. For a long time, the beast stands there, smelling the air. It¡¯s only a few feet away. I can hear it panting. I can even feel its hot breath. But the wolf never enters the mine. After a few blood-chilling moments, the wolf simply turns around and trots back the way it came. Right before it disappears into the woods, the beast turns back and looks at me. Those wet, black eyes gleaming with moonlight. See you later, the wolf whispers. I hear myself gasp in surprise. Then the whole world turns into one big shadow. *** This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Where am I?¡± I have blurry vision and my arm hurts like crazy. I squint, seeing my mom gripping the steering wheel of our family¡¯s Jeep Cherokee. It¡¯s still night and we¡¯re racing down the highway. Whoa! Mom is breaking the speed limit. Things must be bad. Emily and Bizbee are mushed together in the passenger seat beside my mom. Emily hugs our dog tight. I think she has tears in her eyes. I can¡¯t believe it. I haven¡¯t seen my sister cry since she was four years old. I¡¯m lying across the back seat. A bandage is wrapped tightly around my wounded arm. A red splotch seeps through. A red circle of blood. Mom takes a quick glance at me over her shoulder. ¡°Kat, you¡¯ll be okay,¡± she says. But Mom doesn¡¯t sound so sure. ¡°Everything is going to be fine.¡± I touch my wounded arm. ¡°A wolf bit me. A real-life wolf.¡± ¡°You¡¯re safe,¡± says Mom. ¡°We heard Bizbee barking and found you in that cave. Now we¡¯re taking you to the hospital.¡± The jeep¡¯s engine growls and I see trees whipping by my window. Jeeze, we¡¯re going fast. ¡°There was another wolf,¡± I say. ¡°One that talked to me.¡± My mom¡¯s eyebrows scoop downward. They always do that when she¡¯s confused. ¡°What did you say? The wolf did what?¡± ¡°The white wolf talked to me,¡± I say. But my words must come out all mumbles, because Mom acts like I didn¡¯t say a thing. Suddenly, I¡¯m very tired. I feel all floaty and my eyelids are heavy. I can barely keep them open. That¡¯s when I see the older boy by the side of the road. Our jeep zooms by but somehow, I still catch a clear glimpse of him. He¡¯s maybe seventeen, leaning against a tree in the middle of nowhere like he¡¯s waiting for a bus. He wears dingy blue jeans and a white tank top that shows off his muscles. His hair is long and midnight black. His eyes are cool gray. It must be a dream, I think to myself. What¡¯s this guy doing in the forest alone in the middle of the night? If it is a dream, it¡¯s a bad one. Before I fall into a deep, black sleep I see the teen¡¯s sinister smile. He has blood on his teeth. *** Killer Paw stands beside the road and watches the jeep speed past. The young girl in the back seat presses her face against the window. She sees him. Killer Paw is sure of it. Good. He wants her to see him. He wants her to be afraid. The jeep zips around a curve in the road and disappears. Killer Paw turns and stalks back into the forest. Sharp pinecones crunch under his bare feet. But he doesn¡¯t feel a thing. The white wolf slinks out from behind a bush, its glossy black eyes shining in the moonlight. It has been waiting for Killer Paw. The teen bows his head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Killer Paw says to the wolf. ¡°I got a big bite of her.¡± Chapter 4: Burns like Fire It¡¯s midnight and I¡¯m lying in a hospital bed, half awake. I feel half dead. Hours ago, the doctor stitched up my arm and gave me a shot. I started getting a bad fever, so he said I should stay the night. Now, I¡¯ve got a small room all to myself with a TV hanging on the wall. Some boring lawyer show is on, but the sound is turned down low. All I can really hear is the BEEP, BEEP, BEEP of the hospital machines surrounding my bed. It¡¯s dark in the room, and kinda scary. All the wires and tubes don¡¯t help me feel any better. In fact, it feels like I¡¯m being attacked by an octopus. I close my eyes. The doctor told me the medicine would make me sleepy. He wasn¡¯t kidding. But a second later, me eyes snap open wide. Oh no. I just heard a low growl right outside my door. SQUEAK. My door creeps open. I hear soft footsteps on the tile floor, then¡­ panting. I want to pull the sheets over my head. When I was little, I thought that would protect me from monsters. Now, I know better. Trembling, I ease up in bed and peek at the floor. The white wolf stands at the foot of my bed. She greets me with a wicked smile. ¡°Hello Katrina," the wolf whispers. I scream. Then I wake up. I am at the hospital. But it¡¯s not midnight and there¡¯s no wolf in my room. It¡¯s 8:00 am and the summer sun sneaks in through the room¡¯s curtains. I¡¯m hugging the stuffing out of my favorite kangaroo. Mom must have brought it for me. ¡°Kat?¡± says a familiar voice. ¡°Are you okay?¡± I roll over to see Sarah sitting beside my bed. Embarrassed, I quickly jam my kangaroo beneath the hospital sheets. Sarah is my best friend in the whole universe, but I still don¡¯t want her seeing me with a ¡°emotional support stuffie.¡± ¡°I had a bad dream,¡± I tell her. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡± Sarah is skinny with freckles and long, curly hair like gold thread. When she¡¯s nervous, she twirls that hair around her finger. We¡¯re in the Sunflower Scouts together, and I¡¯ve seen her do it when we start telling ghost stories by the fire. Sarah must be real nervous right now, because she¡¯s twirling her hair like she¡¯s in the middle of a math quiz. ¡°Your mom said I could visit.¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°I¡¯m glad you came,¡± I say. ¡°But you could¡¯ve waited until tomorrow. I¡¯ll be back home by then.¡± Sarah gets up and walks around the room, inspecting all the hospital gadgets. ¡°I heard you got attacked in the woods. That¡¯s crazy.¡± I rub my bandage. The bite wound burns like fire. ¡°My arm hurts, but my fever is gone. So it¡¯s no big deal.¡± ¡°No big deal?!¡± Sarah¡¯s eyes get big. ¡°You were almost eaten by a wolf.¡± ¡°I was not!¡± I shout. But just hearing the word WOLF makes my heart race. ¡°The thing just bit me, that¡¯s all.¡± ¡°How did you get away?¡± Sarah asks. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± For a second, I think my fever is coming back. But it¡¯s the scary memory, making my skin go hot. Making me sweat. ¡°I was hiding in this cave,¡± I say. ¡°Like an old mine. And the wolf started coming at me. But then it just stopped and trotted off. I don¡¯t know why.¡± Sarah shakes her head. ¡°That¡¯s unbelievable. There¡¯s got to be more to your story than that. What happened out there?¡± ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± Not way I going to mention the white wolf whispering to me. Kids at school already think I¡¯m a weirdo. I don¡¯t want them calling me a psycho too. ¡°Come on, Kat,¡± says Sarah. ¡°I¡¯m your best friend. You can tell me.¡± ¡°LEAVE ME ALONE!¡± My shout even surprises me. Then I do something even more surprising. I growl at her. It¡¯s a low, mean sound that comes from somewhere deep in my guts. Sarah backs away, looking frightened. ¡°Sorry, Kat. I didn¡¯t mean....¡± She turns to leave but stops and looks back at me. ¡°I¡¯ll see you at school next week, okay?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I tell her. I turn my back to her, pretending to go to sleep. Without another word, Sarah leaves. Can¡¯t believe what I just did. Growling at my best friend like some sort of dog? And why didn¡¯t I tell her about the wolf? If I can¡¯t trust Sarah with the truth, who can I trust? I push the blankets away and sit up. I want to follow Sarah and tell her I¡¯m sorry. But these tubes in my arms keep me tied to the bed. I can only stare out the window. I¡¯m on the third floor with a scenic view of the parking lot below. After a few minutes, Sarah walks out of the hospital with her mom. I watch them walk across the parking lot to their car and get in. Neither of them gives a second glance to a teenager standing a few feet from their car. But I do. It¡¯s the creepy older boy with the long, dark hair¡ªthe same one I saw last night, standing out middle of the woods. And now he is right outside the hospital, staring up at my window. I notice right away that he¡¯s not wearing any shoes. His feet are bare, the skin dirty and gray. Crap! I wish I still had my iPhone. Last month, I stayed up all night, sneakily watching YouTube videos on it. Then in the morning, I was so sleepy that I dropped it on the concrete patio. The phone bounced twice and shattered like a fallen Lego toy. As punishment, Dad said I couldn¡¯t get a new one until Christmas. If I hadn¡¯t been so friggin¡¯ clumsy, I¡¯d still have my iPhone, and I could take a bunch of photos of the guy. It¡¯s almost like he knows, ¡®cause the teenager smiles up at me, real wicked like. Then he struts off towards a chain-link fence at the edge of the parking lot. The fence is super tall, but he rushes up and over it easily, climbing like a monkey. I¡¯ve never seen anybody move so fast in my life. How did he do that? I realize I¡¯m holding my breath. I press close to the window and watch him sneak off into the forest that surrounds the hospital. He disappears in the trees, but somehow, I just know I¡¯ll see him again. Chapter 5: Yaarrrggg! ¡°Kat Lupin! Get your butt out here!¡± My mom¡¯s voice echoes through the whole house, which is a big deal since our place is kinda long. Mom once called it a ¡°ranch-style¡± house. That never made sense to me. Lots of neighbors have houses like ours and none of them have any cows or goats or anything. Our place is blue with a white roof, slanted to keep snow from piling up. It¡¯s not as big as Sarah¡¯s home which has two stories and a pool. But Emily and me both get our own bedroom, which is all that matters to me. I¡¯m enjoying my bedroom¡¯s privacy when mom¡¯s voice booms again. ¡°Kat, now!¡± I curl up in my bed, hugging my kangaroo stuffie. ¡°Five more minutes?¡± I beg. ¡°N-O-W!¡± Uh oh. She¡¯s spelling it out. That means she¡¯s serious. I rub my sleepy eyes and stumble out of bed with an Ugggg. I won¡¯t lie. My room makes a swap look clean. I¡¯ve got stuffed animals and manga books scattered all over the rug. My laundry basket overflows with dirty T-shirts and socks. And I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s a three-day-old ice cream dish hiding under the piles of manga books. But don¡¯t blame me. Can¡¯t really clean my room with this hurt arm, can I? It has been a week since my trip to the hospital. Every morning, I still peek out my bedroom window, searching the trees. Searching for him. We live in a Silver Rush. It¡¯s a sleepy little town in the Northern Arizona. No cactus up here. It¡¯s all pine trees and mountains. If you¡¯re into nature, and scenery, and blah, blah, blah you¡¯d slobber all over this place. But to me, it¡¯s a boring place to live. At least it used to be. Outside, the woods crowd all the way to the back fence of my yard. I keep expecting to see that dark-haired teen step out of those trees and creep towards the house. Since our place is only one story, he¡¯d be able to slink right up to my bedroom window. Just thinking about him out there, peeking in through the gap in my curtains, sends a cold tremor up my arms. Luckily, that hasn¡¯t happened¡­ Yet. I think about him as I scratch the edges of my bandage. My wound is almost gone. In fact, my doctor is a bit freaked out how fast it¡¯s healing. The wolf teeth left some little scars, but my arm doesn¡¯t hurt anymore. Still itches like crazy though. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Get a move on, sleepy head¡± says Mom. She zips past my room, getting ready for work. She deals in real estate which is a fancy way of saying she finds houses for people to buy. ¡°I¡¯m moving.¡± I shout back at her. Then I drag on a pair of black jeans and dig out my favorite Demon Slayer T-shirt. That¡¯s about as fashionable as I get. I¡¯m not one of the clothes-and-makeup girls. And forget about the flowery sandals. Give me some converse sneakers any day. Mom says that might change one day real soon. Maybe. But I don¡¯t think I want it to. Once dressed, I zombie-shamble towards the bathroom. Too bad Emily is already in there. She gazes at her reflection in the mirror, brushing her hair. She does one hundred strokes¡­ EVERY FRIGGIN¡¯ MORNING! Emily is dressed and ready to go. ¡°You¡¯re a little early, aren¡¯t you?¡± I ask. Emily doesn¡¯t even glance my way. She keeps brushing. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to be late for my first day.¡± ¡°Yeah, well hurry up,¡± I tell her. ¡°I need to go.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t rush perfection,¡± says Emily as she shuts the door on me. Yaarrrggg! I hate that. I storm off and use my parents¡¯ bathroom instead. When I¡¯m finished, I amble over to the kitchen and take a seat at the table. A bowl of oatmeal waits for me. It¡¯s cold. Emily¡¯s dish is already rinsed and sitting in the sink. She must¡¯ve eaten before doing her hundred strokes with the hair brush. She thinks life is a race or something. ¡°Good morning pumpkin,¡± says Dad. He leans against the kitchen counter, reading something on his cell phone. He wears a uniform with a tie and the kind of shoes that you need to polish. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention his gun? He¡¯s been County Sheriff for years and says he¡¯s only had to pull it out of his holster while on duty twice. Dad¡¯s proud of that. ¡°Morning,¡± I say. I catch myself staring at him. Not at him exactly, but at what he¡¯s eating¡ªa thick, greasy slice of bacon. Wow, that looks so¡­GOOD! I haven¡¯t eaten meat since I was five years old. But now, gazing at the bacon, my mouth begins to water. What¡¯s going on? Drop it, says a voice. Please, please, please, drop it. At my side, Bizbee sits up straight and alert, eyeing my dad. The dog doesn¡¯t blink. She licks her lips. Come on, says the dog, like she¡¯s mumbling to herself, although I don¡¯t see her lips move. Drop the meat. I whirl backwards, falling out of my chair. The shock sends me crashing to the kitchen floor. My chair clatters against the tile next to me. ¡°Kat?¡± says my dad. ¡°Are you okay?¡± I ignore his question and gawk at Bizbee. The dog has forgotten all about bacon and stares back at me, confused. ¡°Katrina?¡± This time, my dad shouts. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± I say, getting up off the floor. ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong.¡± But I¡¯m lying because a whole lot of wrong just happened. I must be going crazy. Did I just hear my dog talk? Chapter 6: Top of the Food Chain! I should feel nervous and excited. My pulse should be racing and my heart should be skipping. After all, it¡¯s my very first day as an eighth grader at Silver Rush. Not a sixth grader. Not a seventh grader. But a freakin¡¯ eighth grader. Top of the middle school food chain! And that is a HUGE deal for kids. Not to mention, I have Art 201 next, which is my favorite subject in the world. But all I can think about is my dog Bizbee¡­ talking. It had to be my imagination. I¡¯ve already sat through two classes¡ªSocial Studies and Advanced Chemistry. I barely remember a thing about either of them. Now, I¡¯m trudging down the halls, bumping into other kids. I¡¯m numb, like this is all a weird dream. The only thing I really feel is hungry. I was so freaked out hearing Bizbee speak this morning I couldn¡¯t eat my cold oatmeal. I find my classroom and take a seat in the last row of desks. A minute later, Sarah slides into the chair next to me. We¡¯re back row kind of kids. ¡°How¡¯s the arm?¡± Sarah asks. Students are filling up the room, chatting and plopping into their chairs. A few are texting away on their cell phones. Lucky jerks. I show Sarah the small bandage now covering up the bite. ¡°It¡¯s much better. Thanks.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± she says. It¡¯s a real captivating conversation we¡¯re having. Sarah doesn¡¯t look at me. She twirls her hair on her finger. Neither of us speaks for a while. It¡¯s super cringy. Finally, she glances at me and says, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about being nosey. You know, back at the hospital?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m the one who¡¯s sorry.¡± I shouldn¡¯t have yelled at you like that.¡± Sarah smiles real big. ¡°Why don¡¯t we call it even?¡± ¡°Deal,¡± I say. ¡°On one condition. Slip that candy bar to me. I¡¯m starving.¡± Sarah frowns, looking confused. ¡°What candy bar?¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°The one in your bag. It¡¯s in the top pocket.¡± Sarah digs in the top pouch of her bag and, to her disbelief, pulls out a Snickers. ¡°My mom must have packed this as a surprise. I didn¡¯t even know about it? How did you¡­¡± ¡°I could smell it,¡± I say, snagging the Snicker from her hand. ¡°Do you mind?¡± ¡°No, go ahead,¡± says Sarah. My stomach growls. I chow down on the candy bar, barely taking the time to rip off the wrapper. ¡°What do you mean, you could smell it?¡± Sarah asks. ¡°I couldn¡¯t smell anything.¡± I shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s like my nose just knew it was in there.¡± I nod at a boy in a Wolverine T-shirt who passes by us. He takes a seat a few rows ahead of us. ¡°That kid has a ham sandwich in his bag. With mustard.¡± Sarah looks around then whispers to me. ¡°Kat, that¡¯s not normal. And it¡¯s kind of creepy.¡± Wow. She¡¯s right. I never had such a great sense of smell before. What¡¯s going on? I don¡¯t have time to think about it, because a second later the art teacher rushes into the room as the bell rings. She¡¯s tall and skinny with a beaky nose and very alert eyes. I see her and only one word comes to mind¡ªFLAMINGO. Her pink dress doesn¡¯t help. ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late, class.¡± She flashes a big, toothy smile. The scent of her heavy perfume makes me dizzy. It smells like that one purple flower¡ªlavender. ¡°I¡¯m Miss Chaney. And if you want to create, you¡¯ve come to the right place.¡± Miss Chaney then says the usual blah, blah, blahs. No using phones in class. No food or drink. No gum. That kind of stuff. After that, she gives a tour of the classroom, showing us where to find the paint supplies, drawing paper, and the colored pencils. She finishes by pointing out a big, silver cylinder in the corner of the room. ¡°And this is a very special oven used to bake pottery. Can anyone tell me what it¡¯s called?" ¡°Yeah,¡± says a boy¡¯s voice. ¡°It¡¯s a kiln.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± says Miss Chaney. ¡°And you are?¡± ¡°Justin,¡± says the boy. I lean in my chair to get a better look at him. He sits across the room in a sunny spot by the window. He¡¯s a sporty looking kid. He doesn¡¯t wear a team jersey or anything, but he¡¯s got muscles, like he doesn¡¯t sit around messing on his phone all day. Maybe he plays football or basketball. He wears jeans and a plain black T-shirt. The sun shines in through the window making his brown hair look golden. Now, I¡¯m not boy crazy like some of the girls in my class. But I gotta admit, this Justin kid is cute. No, cute isn''t the right word. Squirrels and kittens are cute. Handsome is more like it. He¡¯s handsome. But there is something else about him¡­ I¡¯ve seen him before. I¡¯m sure of it. But where? Just then, the boy named Justin turns his head and looks right at me. His eyes are blue and ice cold. A shiver runs down my spine. Handsome or not, something about this boy isn¡¯t right. Something about him feels cursed. Chapter 7: Drips from the Bone Oh my God! Dad makes barbeque ribs for dinner, and they smell so meaty and smoky. I forget all about art class and that weird Justin kid with his icy blue eyes. We sit on the back patio and watch the sun sink down behind the Silver Creek Mountains. The crickets are just starting to chirp their songs. Dad sets a big rack of the meat on the center of the patio table, along with a green salad and baked potatoes. Emily plucks up a few ribs and tears the meat right off the bone with her teeth. Sweet sauce drips from the bones like blood. Emily squints at me, flashing her evil sister smile. ¡°Mmmm.¡± Emily lets out little animal grunts. She tries to gross me out, chewing with her mouth open. Her teeth gnash the meat to shreds. ¡°It¡¯s so good.¡± ¡°Yuck,¡± I say and look away. But the ribs don¡¯t look yucky at all. They look¡­ delicious! What¡¯s happening to me? I¡¯m a vegetarian! Bizbee sits at Emily¡¯s feet, waiting for scraps. The dog isn¡¯t talking this time, and I¡¯m glad. I can only deal with one weirdo thing at a time. And right now, I¡¯m busy fighting my crazy meat cravings. Mom slides a salad and baked potato in front of me. I murmur a ¡°thank you.¡± But really, I want to shove the plate aside and dive over the table for that rack of ribs. I quickly cram the lettuce and spuds down my mouth and ask to be excused. ¡°I need to finish my homework,¡± I say. My mom¡¯s eyebrows get all crinkly. ¡°Homework? On your first day?¡± ¡°Crazy right?¡± I rush into the house, trying to get away from that barbeque smell. Too bad the tempting scent chases me all the way down the hall to my bedroom. I lock the door behind me, flop on the bed, and burry myself under blankets. My belly growls. It doesn¡¯t care that I filled up on veggies. It wants meat. And it wants it NOW! Wish I had my phone to distract me. Maybe something on Disney will do the trick. I click on the little TV hanging on my wall and flip through the channels. I don¡¯t have streaming back here, so I have to settle for old school cable. As I flip, the dog next door starts barking like crazy. Yap! Yap! Yap! Yap! A low, mean growl works its way up my throat. Where did that come from? I clamp my teeth together to cut it off. No! No more growling. I¡¯m not a freakin¡¯ dog! I try to focus on the TV. Oh crap. A commercial for Longhorn Steakhouse comes on. Who the frig puts an ad like this on the Disney Channel? My stomach growls again as a juicy, sizzling T-bone appears on the screen. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Shut up,¡± I tell my stomach. My stomach growls louder, like a starving animal. ¡°I said shut up.¡± I give my belly a little punch. The growls stop. But I feel funny. Kinda dizzy, like when you stand up too fast. And my face feels all itchy. Scratching my cheek, my fingers brush against something¡­ something that isn¡¯t supposed to be there. What¡­ What is that? I spring out of bed and open my closet door. A pile of dirty laundry and stuffed animals tumbles out like a tidal wave (I¡¯m not big on room cleaning). I kick some clothes out of the way so I can get to the mirror hanging on my closet door. My heart pounds in my chest. I¡¯m afraid to look. Oh no! That¡¯s just not right! A long, brown hair sticks out of my cheek. Right before my eyes, it grows longer and longer. Then another hair pokes out of the skin right next to it. Then another. My eyes get real big. I don¡¯t breathe¡­ I don¡¯t move a muscle. ¡°Kat?¡± My mom¡¯s voice booms on the other side of my bedroom door. ¡°You want some desert?¡± ¡°No thanks.¡± My voice comes out all low and raspy, like I¡¯m trying to talk while gurgling mouth wash. I clear my throat and try again. The words rush out way too fast. ¡°No. None for me, thanks. Not hungry. Thank you.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s cookie dough ice cream,¡± says Mom. I don¡¯t need to see her face to know she¡¯s confused. ¡°You love that stuff. Is everything alright honey?¡± ¡°Yep,¡± I say. More hairs poke out of my skin. I¡¯m thinking, oh gross, oh gross, oh gross. But I say, ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°Okay then.¡± I hear my mom through the door, shuffling down the hall. Why didn¡¯t I tell her? Maybe mom could¡¯ve helped. Maybe she would¡¯ve known¡­ My brain doesn¡¯t get a chance to finish that thought. Super sharp pain shoots through my bones. CRACK! CRUUNCH! CRACK! It feels like my whole skeleton is breaking... stretching¡­. getting longer. The pain is unbearable, but something inside of me wants to hide it from everyone. Like I¡¯m ashamed. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. My teeth feel like knives. They cut my lip open, and I taste salty blood. My hand reaches up to touch my mouth. And that¡¯s when I notice it. My hand has turned into a CLAW. My fingers curve out, twice as long as normal. And my nails extend from my fingertips, sharp and hard. No. No. No. This isn¡¯t happening. My heart pounds. My head whirls. Spots fill my vision. I get so dizzy I grab the window frame to keep from falling. It¡¯s like I have a thick cloud, swirling around my head. Everything gets darker and darker. I open the window, desperate to get some fresh air. The last thing I see is a full moon hanging in the night sky. Then everything goes red. *** Killer Paw crouches in the alley across from the girl¡¯s house, hidden in the shadows. He wants to rip apart the neighbor¡¯s puny dog with its ceaseless yapping. But he doesn¡¯t. Instead, he watches and waits. Moonlight shines down on a nearby dumpster. Killer Paw feels the moon calling to him. It¡¯s a whisper inside his head. ¡°Time to hunt.¡± Killer Paw fights off the urge. He wants to answers the moon¡¯s call. He wants to hunt, more than anything. But he has learned to control his longings. He has another task tonight. Inside the house, the girl muffles her own screams. The humans¡ªher parents, her sister¡ªthey cannot hear her cry out. But Killer Paw can. He can hear every bone in her body, cracking and stretching. He can smell the fur growing from her body. THE CHANGE is coming. It won¡¯t be long now. Killer Paw scratches behind his ear and sniffs the air. Moments later, a beautiful brown wolf leaps out from the girl¡¯s bedroom window. Killer Paw watches her trot off into the night. Soon, the new wolf will be given a choice. Join the pack or die. Chapter 8: Mr. Yappy. BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! ¡°Kat!¡± My mom yells at me from the hallway while she pounds on my bedroom door. ¡°Wake up! Your alarm¡¯s been going off for five minutes.¡± Slowly, I sit up in bed, wrapping myself in a blanket. ¡°Got it,¡± I yell. ¡°I¡¯m up. I¡¯m up already.¡± I let out a groggy yawn and hit my alarm, killing off the annoying BUZZ. Stretching, a sudden sharp pain grips my muscles. It feels like I¡¯ve run a marathon in my sleep. ¡°Why am I so sore?¡± I ask myself. Then another, more important question comes to mind. Where are my clothes?! I find my T-shirt and jeans on the floor. They¡¯re all torn up. It¡¯s like someone went after them with some very jagged scissors. What¡­ what happened? As my brain struggles with an answer, a flood of memories hits me. My heart speeds up again. I remember the hair growing out of my face. I remember my hands turning to claws. I remember¡­ the neighbor¡¯s little yapping dog. My stomach gurgles. But it¡¯s not hungry. I peek down at my belly. It looks bigger, like I¡¯ve eaten a gigantic meal. Oh no. What did I do? *** Twenty minutes later, I slink into the kitchen. I¡¯ve already hidden my ripped clothes, changed into fresh jeans and a T-shirt, and brushed my teeth half a dozen times. Now, I¡¯m heading for the door, hoping to slip away before anyone notices. I just can¡¯t face my parents right now. Too bad Dad¡¯s leaning on the counter, sipping his coffee. He wears his sheriff¡¯s uniform, but his hat is tipped way back on his head, kinda goofy like. ¡°What¡¯s up Kitty Kat?¡± He checks the time on his phone. ¡°You trying to sneak out without breakfast?¡± ¡°What? No¡­I mean, yeah. I¡¯m not really hungry.¡± ¡°Come on, kid. You¡¯ve got to eat something. How about a bagel?¡± My stomach turns. Even the thought of food makes me want to barf. But I don¡¯t want to become suspicious. ¡°Sure Dad. I¡¯ll take it with me.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Dad grabs a bagel bag from the cupboard and pulls one out for me. He¡¯s about to hand it to me when mom¡¯s voice booms from the living room. ¡°Todd, come out here and see this.¡± We find Mom and Emily standing frozen in the living room, staring at the TV. Channel 15 News is showing video from the local grocery store. It¡¯s black and white and kinda scratchy-looking¡ªprobably from the store¡¯s security cameras. Customers are all running around like crazy, dropping their canned corn and hamburger buns. Terrified, they scramble for the doors. There is no sound to the video, but a reporter¡¯s voice lets us know what¡¯s going on. ¡°This is the scene early last night at Silver Peak Market,¡± says the reporter, ¡°where shoppers were greeted by an unexpected guest.¡± A wolf appears on our TV screen. But this isn¡¯t some NAT GEO nature show. This is a real live wolf, strolling down the cereal aisle. It heads for the meat department. ¡°Fish and Wildlife officials are baffled by the wolf¡¯s behavior,¡± says the reporter. ¡°Usually, wolves avoid contact with humans. Fortunately, no one was injured by the furry visitor, which only seemed interest in one thing¡ªA snack.¡± The wolf on TV leaps right into the meat display and chomps down on a huge tube of ground beef. ¡°That¡¯s totally psycho,¡± says Emily. I can¡¯t take my eyes off the screen. ¡°Yeah, totally.¡± Dad checks the texts on his phone. ¡°That¡¯s weird,¡± he says, more to himself than to any of us. ¡°The boys at the department never called me in about it.¡± My stomach gurgles again. I feel a burp bubbling up. I cover my mouth so nobody hears it. The burb tastes like meat¡­. Raw meat. Oh gross. A cold chill freezes the blood in my veins. It¡¯s me. The wolf is me! It sounds crazy, but somehow, I know it¡¯s true. It all makes sense in a wacky, fairytale way. Last night was a full moon, and I changed into a wolf. Mom catches me staring at the TV like a zombie. ¡°Kat, is everything okay? Your face looks like that time we let you watch Scream 2.¡± ¡°Oh honey,¡± says Dad. He quickly turns off the TV. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry. I¡¯m sure that furry guy is long gone.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a guy,¡± I whisper, still gazing at the screen, my eyes all big. ¡°And it isn¡¯t gone.¡± ¡°What? What did you say?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± I hurry towards the front door. ¡°I should get to school. See you later.¡± I don¡¯t wait to hear their goodbyes. I slip outside and jog towards the sidewalk. My school is only a few blocks away, so my parents let me walk when I want. I¡¯m crazy lazy, so that doesn¡¯t happen often. But after last night, I just can¡¯t sit in Dad¡¯s sheriff¡¯s cruiser and listen to his lame jokes. I walk past my neighbor¡¯s place. They have a short chain-link fence around their front yard to keep Mr. Yappy in. Every time I pass by their house, the little fluff ball races out to bark at me. And today is no different. Honestly, I¡¯m almost happy to see Mr. Yappy charge the fence. A little part of me thought I might have¡­ eaten him. Which is big time yuck. A low growl builds up inside the fluff ball¡ªlike he¡¯s powering up his bark power for a full-scale YAP, YAP, YAP assault. But then something super weird happens. Mr. Yappy sniffs the air then freezes in his tracks. His eyes fill up with terror. Then he lets out a whimper and runs off in the other direction. He knows I¡¯ve changed. He knows what I¡¯ve become. Chapter 9: Skedaddle I shuffle through the halls at Silver Rush Middle School, staring down at my feet. Don¡¯t want anyone seeing my face. It feels like a million eyes are watching me. I peek up at the other kids, chilling out by their lockers. I swear they¡¯re whispering about me. They know. They all know what I¡¯ve done. I slip into the bathroom to escape their voices. I know it¡¯s all in my imagination. Nobody was looking my way. Nobody was whispering secrets. But it feels so real. Mr. Ike, the janitor, must¡¯ve just cleaned up in here because the bathroom smells all bleachy. A fan in the ceiling clatters away, so I can¡¯t hear the kids in the hall anymore. I bend over the sink and splash cool water on my face. It feels good on my warm, red cheeks. When I stand up, a horrible sight waits for me in the mirror. My breath catches in my throat. I cover my mouth to keep from screaming. Oh¡­ My¡­ God! My reflection stares back at me with big, horrified eyes. Another brown hair grows right out of my cheek. And it¡¯s long. Like the stuff you pull out of the bathtub drain. My stomach flip flops. I feel like I¡¯m gonna puke. I pinch the hair with nervous, shaky fingers. I¡¯m about to rip the thing out of my face when the bathroom door swings open. ¡°There you are,¡± says Sarah. ¡°I thought maybe you were sick and stayed home.¡± She stands right next to me, checking her long curls in the mirror. Somebody jammed a gooey piece of gum in her hair. ¡°You don¡¯t have a brush, do you?¡± My palm covers up the long hair growing out of my face. I try to sound normal, but my voice cracks. ¡°No. No brush. Sorry.¡± Sarah sighs. She grabs a paper towel and wets it under the faucet. She tries to pluck out the gum with it, but the sticky stuff is glued in there like cement. ¡°Stupid Dorian thought he was being funny,¡± says Sarah, scrunching up her eyebrows all angry like. ¡°Asked if I wanted some ABC gum. Then he tossed this in my hair before I could answer. You know what ABC means, right?¡± I¡¯m barely listening to her. ¡°Like the old people TV channel?¡± ¡°Already. Been Chewed. What a Butthead, huh? I mean, we¡¯re not six years old anymore. We¡¯re in eighth grade. So immature.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I mumble. ¡°Major butthead.¡± ¡°He¡¯s kinda cute though, don¡¯t you think? For a butthead, I mean. To be honest, I really wish he wasn¡¯t, but what can you do? The dumb dork is cute.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I say. Sarah stops messing with the gum and glances over at me, one eyebrow doing that arch thing. ¡°What¡¯re you doing in here anyway? You know the bell rang like three minutes ago.¡± That¡¯s when I notice the plastic card hanging around her neck¡ªthe words HALL PASS in big block letters. It¡¯s like the world¡¯s dorkiest necklace. Stolen story; please report. ¡°No way,¡± I say. ¡°I didn¡¯t even hear it.¡± More like I was too busy freaking out to notice it. Sarah squints at me. ¡°Kat, is something wrong? You¡¯re acting all weirdo. I mean even for you.¡± I turn away so she can¡¯t see me rip the hair out of my cheek. ¡°Everything¡¯s fine¡± I tell her as I hurry out the door. ¡°You sure?¡± Sarah calls after me. But I ignore her. I head towards class, hiding the long hair in my clenched fist. *** TWAP! An arrow plunges into the bullseye like it suddenly appeared there out of nowhere. Like it teleported there or something. More than 100 feet from the target, Justin reaches in his quiver for another arrow. If he notices me walking up to him, he doesn¡¯t show it. I realize I¡¯m still holding the long hair that I¡¯d pulled out of my cheek. It¡¯s clenched tight in my fist so someone would have to pry my fingers open to see it. While Justin keeps his eyes on the target, I unclench my fist and let the gross thing float to the grass. ¡°You aren¡¯t supposed to do that here,¡± I say. Justin pauses, looks at the bow in his hands, then looks at the row of targets across the grassy field. ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°I mean, without a teacher. You aren¡¯t supposed to be shooting arrows without a teacher present.¡± It wasn¡¯t weird to see archers on the field¡ªSilver Rush had and award-winning archery team. A few years ago, a kid from the high school even tried out for the Olympics. But you never saw students out here in the middle of the school day while classes were going on. And you never saw them alone. Just being out here beside him made me nervous. My brain kept screaming at me. You¡¯re going to get in trouble. ¡°Why don¡¯t you leave then?¡± asks Justin. ¡°What?¡± I feel my eyebrow do that downward arching thing. Did he read my mind? ¡°You keep looking over your shoulder like you just robbed a bank. If you¡¯re nervous about being out here, why don¡¯t you skedaddle? Did he just say skedaddle? What kind of kid talks like that? What does that even mean? He lets the bow string go. It makes a whispery TWIPPP sound and another arrow punches into the center ring. ¡°It¡¯s Kat, right?¡± ¡°What,¡± I say again dumbly, even though I heard him. He knows my name? And why do I even care? Like I¡¯ve said, I¡¯m not one of those dude-obsessed girls who follow them around, laughing too hard at their dumb bro jokes. Those girls are so cringey it hurts. No, I¡¯d rather spend my time on my games and manga. This boy though¡­ This boy is interesting. Justin pulls another arrow from his quiver. Doesn¡¯t even look my way. ¡°What are you doing out here, Kat?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I tell him. And it¡¯s the truth. On my way to class, I saw him out here on the archery field all alone and started walking towards him. No thinking involved. I was just drawn to him, like I had known him my entire life. Super weird. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here,¡± says Justin. ¡°I need someone to bear witness to my two bullseyes in a row.¡± First, he says ¡°skedaddle.¡± Now, he¡¯s saying ¡°Bear witness.¡± ¡°Looks like our time is up.¡± He nods his head towards a figure in the distance. It¡¯s Mr. Ike, the janitor, marching onto the field. I¡¯m too far away to see his face, but I¡¯m guessing he isn¡¯t happy. His shoulders are all tight and his steps are big, angry stomps. ¡°Oh, crap.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll keep him busy.¡± Justin walks straight towards Mr. Ike. ¡°You go the other way and keep your head down. Maybe he didn¡¯t recognize you yet.¡± I open my mouth, but Justin jogs off before I can say anything. Dropping my head, I hustle towards the classrooms. I throw a glance over my shoulder, watching him meet Mr. Ike in the middle of the field. Justin has his bow and arrows slung on his back and his hands on his hips. He doesn¡¯t look like a teenager about to get in trouble. The way he stands there reminds me of my dad. Not just a grownup, but a grownup with authority. Who is this kid? Chapter 10: One of Us After the last bell, I don¡¯t stop to talk to anyone, not even Sarah. Instead, I fast-walk out the building and towards the gates that lead to the school¡¯s parking lot. The whole time, I¡¯m staring down at my converse sneakers, avoiding any chance of eye contact. Slipping past the other kids, I catch a whiff of their teenage B.O. I squint and scrunch up my nose. It¡¯s mostly the boys who stink, but a few girls could use some deodorant lessons too. Then a sweeter scent hits me, lavender perfume. ¡°Hi Katrina. Everything alright?¡± I glance up from my shoes and spot Miss Channey my art teacher standing in my path, a flowery dress hanging off her boney shoulders. Seriously, this lady is so skinny she must be a marathon runner or something. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just wanna get home.¡± The art teacher brushes her hair aside, giving me a better view of her high cheek bones and long beaky nose. Somehow, the bird look works for her. No one would call her a super model or anything, but Miss Channey is kinda pretty in a fragile way. She narrows her eyes at me. ¡°You know, if there was something wrong, you could talk to me about it. Or there¡¯s a number of a teen hotline I can give you.¡± My face gets all warm and I¡¯m sure my cheeks have gone red. ¡°There¡¯s no hotline in the world for my kind problem.¡± Holy crap. Did I actually say that out loud? Luckily, I mumble a ton, so I don¡¯t think Miss Chaney heard me. She opens her mouth, about to say something, but I¡¯m out of there before she can utter a word. I shout a quick ¡°See you in class¡± then jog out the gates and across the lot. I don¡¯t even bother throwing a glance her way. Behind me, all the students stroll away from Silver Rush Middle School without a care in the world. They¡¯re all blah-blah-blahing¡ªlaughing and chatting. I grip my backpack tight and keep walking. I barely notice the kids. Got too much on my mind. What am I going to do? I can¡¯t be a werewolf. I have a math test next week. At lunch, I nearly ripped a hamburger out of Sarah¡¯s hands. The meat smelled sooooo good. I wanted to gobble the thing down in one bite. The tempting scent followed me even when I left the cafeteria. Then in homeroom, I scared Ms. Chamber¡¯s guinea pigs halfway to death. Ms. C. has their cage set up in the front of the room. She calls the fluffy guys our ¡°class pets¡± and we take turns feeding them. Normally, the guinea pigs are happy and playful. But today, they huddled in their cages, shivering and letting out these little squeaky whines. They knew what I was. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I walk faster, trying to forget those frightened squeaks. A cool breeze whips through the street. The scent of pine trees hangs in the air. But that¡¯s not all. Incredibly, I can also smell a prowling alley cat three blocks away. And almost a mile away, I can smell a plate of meatloaf and mash potatoes sitting on the counter in Sam¡¯s Diner. No. This isn¡¯t possible. Then I sniff out something else. Something musky, like a wet dog. But it¡¯s no dog. I turn around in a full circle, trying to track the scent. That¡¯s when I hear his voice behind me. ¡°You must be freaking out right now.¡± The older boy with the long black hair steps out of a nearby alley. It¡¯s the mystery teen who stood in the forest in the middle of the night. The spooky dude I saw hanging around outside my hospital. I back away from him. One step. Then another. ¡°Who¡­ who are you?¡± The teen doesn¡¯t answer me. He sweeps his long hair away from his face. He wears dark jeans and a black T-shirt. I notice he¡¯s not wearing shoes. His feet are filthy. ¡°I remember how it felt,¡± he says. He circles around me but doesn¡¯t look me in the eyes. ¡°It¡¯s so confusing, isn¡¯t it? All the new smells. All the new sensations.¡± My heart races as I realize I¡¯ve accidently backed up into the alley. No one can see me here! I try to sound tough but my voice cracks. ¡°What do you want?¡± The teenager stops circling. Finally, he looks at me. His eyes are dark grey like wet cement. ¡°You¡¯re like us now, Kat. You¡¯re one of us.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t even know you.¡± He smiles but doesn¡¯t look happy. It¡¯s a tight, mean smile. ¡°Liar, liar,¡± he says. ¡°Pants on fire. You know who I am. You know what I am. I¡¯m the one that bit you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re a werewolf?¡± The teenager does a little bow. ¡°At your service. I used to have one of those boring human names. Truth be told, I don¡¯t even remember it anymore. Now everyone calls me Killer Paw. Cool huh?¡± ¡°Get away from me or I¡¯ll scream.¡± I say, backing away a few more feet. ¡°Why scream?¡± Killer Paw asks. ¡°When you can howl!¡± He throws his head back and howls at the sky. It¡¯s like nothing I¡¯ve ever heard out of a human. Killer Paw doesn¡¯t sound like a guy pretending to be a wolf. He sounds exactly like a wolf. Because he is a wolf! As the howl echoes off the alley walls, I run for my life. I sprint down the alley and leap over a tall fence. Whoa! Never jumped so high before. My feet plop down on blacktop. I find myself in the rear parking lot of the Silver Peak Market, where all the big trucks usually make their deliveries. But right now, there are no trucks in sight. The place is empty, so there¡¯s no one to help me. My whole body tingles. Somehow, I can feel hot blood flowing through my veins. And HOLY CRAP I¡¯m running fast! In the blink of an eye, I¡¯m halfway across the parking lot. There¡¯s no way he can catch me. No way. But then I hear the sound of Killer Paw¡¯s bare feet slapping against the black top. I¡¯m afraid to look back. The sound gets louder and louder as he closes in. He¡¯s right behind me! Chapter 11: Im so Dead A rough hand shoves me from behind. I fall forward and tumble across the blacktop. THUD! THUD! THUD! It isn¡¯t pretty. I must look like the world¡¯s clumsiest acrobat. Before I roll to a stop, I scrape my arm, my knee, and my forehead. I sit up, feeling dizzy. Warm, icky blood leaks from a gash above my eye. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± says Killer Paw. He walks towards me with that creepy tight smile on his face. The wind whips his long black hair in all directions, making him look wild. ¡°Those wounds will heal up real quick. That¡¯s one of the advantages of being our kind.¡± I scoot backwards, trying to get away from him. ¡°Leave me alone,¡± I say, but my voice is small. Killer Paw tilts his head to one side like a curious puppy. ¡°Ah, you don¡¯t mean that. If you¡¯re all alone who¡¯s gonna teach you all about being a wolf?¡± When he says the word ¡°wolf¡± it sounds like a dog¡¯s WOOF. ¡°Come with me, Kat. I promise, it¡¯ll be tons more fun than middle school.¡± I shake my head, crab-crawling backwards a few more inches. ¡°But¡­ I don¡¯t want to join you.¡± Killer Paw¡¯s creepy smile melts into a frown. He makes one of those disappointed faces usually only adults can do. He raises his hand and spreads his fingers out wide, like he¡¯s showing off a magic trick. ¡°I¡¯m so sad to hear you say that,¡± Killer Paw says. ¡°You really give me no choice.¡± Right before my eyes, Killer Paw¡¯s fingernails start growing. They get longer and longer, darker and darker. Until finally, the human fingernails have transformed into thick, sharp, nasty claws. I gulp air, thinking about what those claws could do to me. Three words echo in my head over and over. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I¡¯m so dead. I¡¯m so dead. I¡¯m so dead. Luckily, another voice interrupts my awful thoughts. ¡°Get away from her!¡± A body slams into Killer Paw from behind. The two of them crash against the blacktop like a rolling wave. They claw and punch at each other. Both growl like wolves. The one who screamed is a boy in blue jeans and a t-shirt. Not a little boy. He looks about my age, but that¡¯s all I can make out. They¡¯re moving too fast to see much of anything. A crazy blur of arms and legs. When they stop rolling, the boy has his back to me. He throws a punch like a boxer, bashing Killer Paw in the jaw. Stunned, Killer Paw staggers backwards. This gives the kid a chance to turn and face me. It¡¯s the weird boy from art class¡­ Justin. ¡°Run Kat!¡± he yells. Killer Paw grabs Justin from behind and the two of them start wrestling again. It¡¯s no surprise the bigger, stronger Killer Paw is winning. Justin is flat on his back with Killer Paw kneeling on his chest. The long-haired teen clenches Justin¡¯s neck with both clawed hands, squeezing. Justin¡¯s eyes bulge and his skin turns pale. He manages to look my way, and in a weak, gurgled voice he says, ¡°Go.¡± I want to. More than anything. I want to turn right around and race all the way home, then shut my door and lock it. But I just can¡¯t leave Justin like this. Not after he saved me. I take one step towards them, not sure what I¡¯m going to do. Maybe I can kick Killer Paw while he¡¯s distracted. Maybe I can¡­ WHOOP! WHOOP! I nearly jump out of my skin. The wail of the police siren startles me so bad I freeze like a statue. So do Killer Paw and Justin. They hit the pause button on their fight and glance up in the direction of the noise. I spin around and catch sight of my dad¡¯s patrol car, whipping around a corner. It races towards us. Its lights flash. Its siren wails again. WHOOP! WHOOP! Oh, thank goodness. Dad is sure to lock Killer Paw up for attacking me. After all, the creepy dude is almost an adult and Justin and I are just kids. Last time I checked, strangers can¡¯t go around assaulting middle-schoolers. But what if Dad can¡¯t arrest Killer Paw? Will handcuffs be strong enough to hold him? Do normal bullets even work on werewolves? Then an even more horrible thought screams in my head. What if Killer Paw hurts Dad? Or worse? My questions will never be answered. I turn back around to face Justin and Killer Paw¡­ But they¡¯re gone! Chapter 12: Teenage Creep Dad¡¯s patrol car is too quiet. Like graveyard quiet. I sit next to him, neither of us talking. It¡¯s soooo awkward. He keeps his eyes on the road while he drives, and I¡¯m glad. I don¡¯t want him looking at me right now. Finally, after what feels like hours, he asks, ¡°You want to tell me what you were doing behind the grocery store?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I say with a shrug. I stare at my shoes, just in case Dad decides to throw a glance my way. ¡°Exploring, I guess. Never saw the back of a market before.¡± Dad makes a humming ¡°Mmmm¡± sound and my heart skips a beat. He knows I¡¯m lying. He¡¯s a cop. It¡¯s his job to sniff out lies. But if Dad suspects I¡¯m being dishonest, he doesn¡¯t say anything. He doesn¡¯t even ask about Justin or Killer Paw, which makes me think they ran away so fast, Dad didn¡¯t even see them. ¡°Did you hear the wolf?¡± Dad asks. My heart isn¡¯t skipping beats anymore. It has come to a complete stop. ¡°Wha¡­ What wolf.¡± ¡°There were reports of a howling wolf within city limits,¡± says Dad. ¡°Probably the same wolf that broke into the grocery store the other night.¡± Or maybe the howler was a teenaged creep named Killer Paw, I think to myself. ¡°Is that why you had your lights and siren going?¡± I ask. Dad nods as he makes a right turn. ¡°I was hoping to scare it away. Can¡¯t have a wolf roaming around right when schools are letting out. Who knows what would happen if some fourth grader stumbled upon it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like to think about it.¡± Dad takes his eyes off the road for a split-second to glance at me. ¡°If you did see a wolf, you¡¯d let me know, right? Or if anything else weird was going on, you¡¯d tell me wouldn¡¯t you Kat?¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Sure Dad,¡± I tell him. But I can¡¯t look him in the eyes when I say it. I keep staring at my shoes. *** The next day, I search the whole school for Justin. I should thank him for helping me, but he never shows up. Maybe his parents called the school office, saying he was sick (Although, it¡¯s hard to imagine Justin even having parents). Maybe Killer Paw hurt him so bad in their fight Justin had to go to the hospital. Maybe he¡¯s dead, his belly ripped open by savage werewolf claws. Oh, no! Not that. I shake the image from my head. I don¡¯t even know the kid, not really. But for some reason, picturing him gone makes my stomach clench up. When the final bell rings, I head straight for the school library. Sarah jogs up behind me, catching up. ¡°Want to hang at my house after school?¡± she asks. ¡°We¡¯ve got a Mario Cart 8 for the PS5.¡± ¡°Sorry, I can¡¯t. I¡¯m going to the library to study.¡± Sarah scrunches up her eyebrows at me. ¡°Wait, did you just turn down Mario Cart to study? Kat, what¡¯s going on? Have you been taken over by aliens or something?¡± I stop in the middle of the hall and pretend to gaze at all the ribbons and prizes in the Silver Rush trophy case. ¡°You know my dad has a trophy in here,¡± I say, tapping the glass door. ¡°See, there it is. That silver one with the dorky little basketball guy on top. His team won the state championship that year.¡± It was all true. My dad still brags about that trophy, which makes Mom do the eye roll thing. Emily is probably in the gym right now, practicing her free throws. And it¡¯s not even basketball season! She¡¯s just like Dad. Sometimes, I wish I was too. ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject,¡± Sarah says. ¡°You¡¯ve been acting weird for days. Kat, what¡¯s happening to you?¡± I keep my eyes on my dad¡¯s trophy. I can¡¯t look at Sarah. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you.¡± ¡°Come on. We tell each other everything.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll think I¡¯m a wacko.¡± ¡°Too late,¡± says Sarah, grinning. ¡°I already know you¡¯re a wacko. So just tell me.¡± I scan the hall, making sure no mean girls are close by. ¡°I¡¯m going to the library to find books on werewolves.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± says Sarah. ¡°But that¡¯s a strange subject for a book report. Halloween¡¯s more than a month away.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not for school, Sarah.¡± That earns another eyebrow scrunch from her. ¡°Then why are you looking for a book on werewolves?¡± I take a deep breath and let it all out. ¡°Because I¡¯m turning into one.¡± Chapter 13: Teen Wolf ¡°Let me get this straight,¡± says Sarah. I give her a SHUSH! We¡¯re tucked at a little table in a hidden corner of the school library. I¡¯ve never been way back here before. It¡¯s dark and smells like dust. I¡¯ve got a big book open in front of me¡ªWerewolves: Hollywood and Beyond. ¡°Could you keep your voice down, please?¡± I ask her. ¡°Let me get this straight,¡± Sarah says again, this time whispering. ¡°You got bit by a wolf while camping. And now, you have hair growing out of your face? Very YUCK, by the way.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not all,¡± I tell her as I flip through the book. Normally, I¡¯d jump on my iPhone and hit up Google. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a whole bunch of werewolf websites out there. But as I¡¯ve mentioned, I won¡¯t have a phone until Christmas. Besides, Mom sometimes peeks at my internet searches, and I don¡¯t want her to know about this. ¡°Remember that wolf on TV?¡± I ask, ¡°the one that snuck into the Peak Market?¡± ¡°Yeah, what about it?¡± I point at myself. Sarah covers her mouth and giggles. ¡°I¡¯m not kidding,¡± I tell her. ¡°That was me. I changed into a wolf during a full moon and ate a bunch of raw meat.¡± ¡°Soooo gross,¡± Sarah says, but she¡¯s still giggling. ¡°Sarah, why would I lie about this? It makes me look like a psycho.¡± Sarah shrugs. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s a joke. You¡¯re trying to trick me into believing you so you can make fun of me.¡± She scans the nearby bookshelves. ¡°Do you have someone filming us? Maybe for one of those TikTok prank videos.¡± I gaze into Sarah¡¯s eyes, trying to hold her stare. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that to you, and you know it.¡± Sarah¡¯s smile disappears. She suddenly gets very serious and whispers even lower. ¡°You really think you¡¯re a werewolf?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the truth, Sarah. I swear.¡± She glances over at the book on the table. It¡¯s open to a chapter about old werewolf movies from waaaaay back in 1980s. ¡°You¡¯re going to prove it,¡± she says. ¡°How?¡± Sarah lifts up the book, showing off a picture from a teen comedy. It¡¯s a photo of a wolfman dunking a basketball. ¡°I know for a fact you¡¯re horrible at basketball. If you can play like this, I¡¯ll believe you.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. I feel my pulse begin to race. Warm blood surges through my veins. I grab the book and say, ¡°Let¡¯s go to the gym.¡± *** Just my luck, my sister Emily is in the gym, shooting hoops with her friends. (Where else would she be, right?) The moment I walk through the door, she stops her game cold. She is not exactly thrilled out of her mind to see me. ¡°What¡¯d you think you¡¯re doing?¡± Emily and her friends stare at me like I¡¯m an alien from the planet Dork-con. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I say, looking around. It¡¯s a great big room with two basketball courts and some folding bleachers. The air is stifling and whole place smells like sweaty socks. ¡°I thought I might get a little exercise.¡± Emily gives me one of her best vampire smiles. ¡°You?¡± ¡°Sure. How about a little one-on-one?¡± Emily snorts at my suggestion and turns her back on me. ¡°Kat, I¡¯ve seen you trip over your feet getting out of bed. Don¡¯t waste my time.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll fart on all your brushes.¡± Slowly, Emily turns around. ¡°What¡­ What did you say?¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t play me, I¡¯ll go home and fart on your hair brushes. Every last one of them.¡± Now, I¡¯ve got her attention. If there¡¯s one thing Emily loves in this world, it¡¯s her hair brushes. ¡°Whatever,¡± she says. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°You really want to take that chance? Or are you actually afraid to play me?¡± Emily¡¯s friends all say ¡°Ooooooooh.¡± They watch Emily with big hyena smiles on their faces, waiting to see how she handles this. I notice Miss Chaney standing up in the bleachers. She¡¯s busy hanging a banner for the school pep rally, but stops to witness the drama unfold. Emily¡¯s face turns to stone. She passes me the basketball¡ªHARD! Like she¡¯s trying to hit me with it. ¡°Do you even know how to play?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out,¡± I say, and toss the ball. I don¡¯t think about¡ªdon¡¯t aim or anything. My body just takes over and I chuck it. The ball goes SWISH, right through the net. I guess it was a good shot because everybody gets all whispery. My ears pick up every word they say. ¡°No way?¡± ¡°But she¡¯s so clumsy.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe it.¡± Emily can¡¯t decide whether to be shocked or angry. She jogs off to retrieve the ball and says, ¡°Anyone can get lucky.¡± She bounces the ball to me, twice as hard as before. ¡°Let¡¯s see how you do when someone¡¯s guarding you.¡± I race down the court, dribbling the ball. It thumps a perfect drumbeat on the court¡¯s shiny wooden floors. A weirdo feeling comes over me, like I¡¯ve been doing this my whole life. It¡¯s like something else has control of my body and my brain is just along for the ride. Emily struggles to keep up, but she might as well be moving in slow motion. I do this spin move and leave her stumbling. Then I jump. It feels like I hang in the air forever. My hand swings around with the ball and¡­ THUNK! I dunk the ball through the metal hoop. Everyone in the gym stares at me in total astonishment. There are no whispers this time. Some of the girls even forget to breathe. The place goes completely quiet. I notice Miss Chaney up in those bleachers, watching me with astonishment. She forgets all about the banner and lets it sag in her hands. My friend Sarah is the first person to utter a word. ¡°I believe you,¡± she says. Chapter 14: The Fang and Claw Society Sarah and I sit on our favorite swing set in Prospector Park, our shoes lazily scraping the ground. The park is only a few blocks from my house. When we were little, we¡¯d sit on these very swings, daring each other to go higher and higher, giggling the whole time. We aren¡¯t giggling anymore. Sarah stares zombie-like at her mom¡¯s phone¡ªgoogling like crazy. I have the Werewolf book open in my lap. Trees with beautiful golden leaves surround us. The smell of fresh cut grass hangs in the air. Pretty soon the sun will set, giving everything a warm red glow. But neither of us will notice. We¡¯re on a mission¡ªfind out everything we can about werewolves. We haven¡¯t said a word to each other in ten whole minutes. That¡¯s a lifetime for a thirteen-year-old. Then I find something¡ªsomething big. My excitement gets the better of me, and I shout, ¡°Silver Bullets!¡± ¡°What about them?¡± Sarah asks. She doesn¡¯t even give me a glance, just keeps tap, tap, tapping away at her phone. ¡°Silver bullets kill werewolves. Says it right here in Chapter 4.¡± ¡°Kat, everyone knows that¡¯s movie stuff.¡± ¡°Everyone thinks werewolves are movie stuff too,¡± I say, turning back to my book. ¡°Doesn¡¯t make them any less real.¡± Sarah doesn¡¯t have a comeback for that one, so we both go silent again. She starts swinging real slow as she scans her phone. I never noticed how loud the swing squeaked before. The sound echoes across the quiet park. It¡¯s creepy. After a few minutes, Sarah stops swinging. She actually looks up from her phone, which makes me nervous. ¡°You¡¯re not going to believe this.¡± I snap my book shut. ¡°Try me. I believe a lot of stuff these days.¡± ¡°This werewolf group¡ªThe Fang and Claw Society¡ªposted all these old newspaper articles online. One was published way back int the 1960s. This boy¡¯s parents told reporters he got all weird after a wolf bit him.¡± I stand up from my swing. Its chain rattles. ¡°How weird?¡± ¡°Growing strange hair¡­ Sneaking out at night¡­ hearing voices.¡± Sarah hands me her phone. ¡°And guess where he was from.¡± I squint down at Sarah¡¯s phone. An old black and white school photo appears on her screen, right above the article. Someone zoomed in on a boy in the middle of the photo, so you can¡¯t really see his teacher or many of his classmates. But you can see a sign in front of him¡ªSILVER RUSH JR. HIGH. Wait a second. I take Sarah¡¯s phone from her to get a better look. I can¡¯t see my own face, but I¡¯m guessing I turn pale as a ghost. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Kat, what¡¯s wrong?¡± asks Sarah. I don¡¯t answer her. My heart speeds up as I squint hard at the phone¡¯s little screen. At first, I didn¡¯t recognize the boy in the photo. Maybe it was the old clothes or his short haircut. But now, there¡¯s no denying it. The boy in the old photo is Justin. ¡°No way,¡± I whisper. My brain is a beehive full of buzzing thoughts. Can this be true? Is Justin really a werewolf like me? And if his photo was in a paper in the 1960s¡­ that would make him¡­ OLDER THAN MY PARENTS! Probably older than my grandparents, even. A warm lump forms in my throat. I might throw up. The boy I thought was handsome might be my nana¡¯s age. Gaaaaaaah! ¡°Kat, talk to me.¡± Sarah doesn¡¯t get up from her favorite swing. She sits there, barely moving, looking up at me with worried, puppy dog eyes. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I hand her phone back. ¡°Take a closer look. Doesn¡¯t that kid remind you of anyone?¡± Sarah squints at the picture on her phone, twirling her hair around a figure. She suddenly sits up super straight. Her eyes bug out. ¡°Wait¡­ Is that the boy from our art class? James?¡± ¡°His name is Justin,¡± I say. ¡°And I think he¡¯s a werewolf, just like me.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t he the one you said was cute?¡± ¡°Stop,¡± I say. ¡°Just stop.¡± It all makes sense now. When Justin fought Killer Paw behind the grocery store, they were both crazy fast. Like two blurs. Faster than any human should be. And if that really is Justin in the photo, he obviously doesn¡¯t age like a normie human. He should be a wrinkled old man by now. But Justin hasn¡¯t aged a day since that picture was taken, all those years ago. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s Justin¡¯s grandfather,¡± says Sarah. ¡°Maybe they just look a lot alike. I heard that can happen.¡± ¡°No. It¡¯s him. I¡¯m sure of it. Just like I¡¯m sure that werewolves have been in Silver Rush for a long, long time.¡± Sarah gets up and tucks her phone away in her pocket. ¡°Kat, maybe you should go to a doctor.¡± ¡°No doctors,¡± I say. ¡°But they could help you. Like they might find a cure or something.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you ever watch those monster movies? Doctors will treat me like a freak. Maybe do some weirdo science experiments on me. Then the army will come and lock me away in a secret base in the middle of nowhere. Thanks, but no thanks.¡± ¡°Come on, Kat. This is serious.¡± ¡°No doctors,¡± I say again. Except I don¡¯t exactly say it. I GROWL it. It¡¯s a low, mean sound from the back of my throat. Sarah¡¯s eyes get real wide. She backs away from me. Exactly like when I growled at her the first time, back at the hospital. Except this time, she doesn¡¯t look a little freaked out. She looks big time scared. I step towards her, holding out my hands. ¡°Sarah, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean it. Really.¡± Sarah takes a step backwards¡ªone little step. She can¡¯t look me in the eyes. ¡°I¡­ I¡­ should go.¡± Her words come out in a stutter. Then she turns and jogs off. When she¡¯s a few dozen yards away, Sarah glances back at me. Tears stream from her eyes. I think she¡¯s afraid I¡¯m going to chase after her. Awesome work, Kat, I think to myself. My only friend in the world just ran away like I was freakin¡¯ Godzilla. I flop back down in the swing. My chest hurts. It feels like my heart just turned into a rock. I stare down at my dirty converse sneakers. ¡°Could this day get any worse?¡± I mumble to myself. A moment later, a strange sensation washes over me. Like when you¡¯re sitting in class and can just feel someone staring at you. I glance up and spot a dark figure at the far edge of the park. He stands as still as a statue in the shadow of a thick clump of pines. A familiar smell hits my nostrils. Like wet dog. Oh, no. My breath catches in my throat as the figure slowly steps out of the darkness. It¡¯s Killer Paw. From this distance, I can¡¯t be sure, but I think he smiles. Then he heads right towards me. Chapter 15: Killer Paw Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! I run like a maniac. One moment I¡¯m standing next to the swing set, hearing its squeaky chains. The next I¡¯m dashing across the park, heading for the neighborhood. My heart pounds hard against my ribs. It feels like I got a heavy metal drummer in there. I don¡¯t dare slow down enough to look back. But I know he¡¯s behind me. Getting closer and closer. I hit the edge of the park and keep running. I sprint cross a quiet side street, hearing my breath huff and puff. I¡¯m not breathing hard because I¡¯m tired. Actually, I¡¯ve never felt so strong in my life. It¡¯s the fear¡ªsqueezing my lungs. Choking me. Finally, I glance back over my shoulder. Killer Paw isn¡¯t right behind me. He isn¡¯t even running. He stalks across the park, fast walking, but not breaking a sweat. For some reason, he looks even scarier that way. It¡¯s like he knows he¡¯ll catch me eventually, so why try so hard? ¡°Oh Kat!¡± His voice carries across the park. ¡°Where you going little girl?¡± Away from you. I don¡¯t waste my breath saying it out loud. Instead, I make a hard right turn and dash down a neighborhood street. Part of me wants to scream for help. But I know I can¡¯t. Anybody who came out of their house to save me would just get hurt. Or worse. What chance would a bunch of soccer moms and dads have against a blood-thirsty werewolf? My arms pump hard. My feet slap the blacktop. I sprint down the middle of the street, peeking over my shoulder again, looking for any sign of Killer Paw. But he¡¯s gone. I slow my pace but keep an eye on the street behind me. Any second now Killer Paw is gonna show up. He¡¯ll turn the corner and flash that wicked smile. I just know it. HONK! HONK! I whip my head around to see a red Volkswagen Bug coming right at me. My instincts kick in, and I dart to one side. The car¡¯s brakes let out an earsplitting SQEAL. The Volkswagen shudders to a stop, missing me by inches. The driver, a blonde high school girl, gives me a sour, squinty-eyed look. ¡°Stupid kid! Watch where you¡¯re running!¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I¡¯m not a kid! I¡¯m friggin¡¯ thirteen. I want to yell this at her, maybe even give her the middle finger. But for some reason, I smile and wave at her. It¡¯s so awkward. ¡°Sorry,¡± I say, my voice all high and cringy sounding. The girl shakes her head at me drives off. I let out a deep breath. Close call. That¡¯s when I notice them. Three teenage boys at the end of the street with long, wild hair. They wear ragged jeans and t-shirts. No shoes. They stare at me with blank expressions on their dirty faces. Their eyes are like glass. A cold shiver ripples its way down my spine. Somehow, I know they¡¯re waiting for me. And somehow, I know they¡¯re werewolves too. I can sense it¡­ smell it. Slowly, I back away from them, then turn to make a run for it. Too late! Killer Paw has caught up to me. He rounds the corner and walks in my direction. He doesn¡¯t hurry, just strolls down the street. He¡¯s got all the time in the world. ¡°Get away!¡± I scream. Then I dash across someone¡¯s front lawn and scamper over a tall block fence. Now I¡¯m trespassing on private property. Dad will ground me for a week if he finds out. But that¡¯s only if I survive. I sprint across a big backyard overgrown with weeds and tall grass. I almost reach a gate to the alley, when a horrible growl fills my ears. Spinning around, I catch sight of the biggest pit bull I¡¯ve ever seen. This thing looks like it eats golden retrievers for a mid-morning snack. He tromps up to me, growling and chomping the air, showing off BIG, nasty teeth. I can¡¯t believe this ferocious beast is actually some family¡¯s pet. The beast dog stops in his tracks. Slobber drips from his lips, but he¡¯s not showing his teeth anymore. He almost looks nervous. He sniffs me, lets out a little whimper, and runs out of sight as fast as a rocket. I just scared a pit bull. Guess dogs know a werewolf when they smell one. No time to think about that now. I pull open the gate and stumble into an alley. There¡¯s a narrow gravel road back here lined with big garbage cans for all the families to use. I can see one end of the alley, leading to a neighborhood street. It looks so nice and boring. I start in that direction when someone suddenly grabs my wrist. ¡°Not that way.¡± It¡¯s Justin. Standing there in the alley in his hoodie and jeans, it¡¯s hard to believe he isn¡¯t a normal kid. Then I feel his grip on my wrist. It feels like steel. ¡°I¡­ I know all about you,¡± My voice sounds dumb even to me. ¡°We found an old picture¡­¡± ¡°No time for that now,¡± says Justin. ¡°Look!¡± I glance down the alley that leads to the nice, boring neighborhood. Four figures step into view¡ªKiller Paw and the wolf boys. Blocking our path. Justin tugs on my wrist, pulling me in the opposite direction. ¡°We only have one chance to escape,¡± says Justin. ¡°We need to go back to the woods.¡± Chapter 16: Whos Afraid of the Big Black Wolf? We run straight through the forest. We don¡¯t bother with hiking paths. Instead, we crash through bushes and leap over fallen branches. As if I¡¯m not freaked out enough, the sun begins to dip behind the mountains, and the thick trees start throwing long, creepy shadows. I want to peek behind me. But Justin doesn¡¯t look back, so I don¡¯t either. ¡°You don¡¯t need to look,¡± says Justin. ¡°They¡¯re still behind us.¡± I speak between gasps for breath. ¡°Maybe we should circle back to town. My dad¡¯s the sheriff. Maybe he could¡­¡± Justin cuts me off. ¡°Does your dad have silver bullets for his gun? Because if he doesn¡¯t, Killer Paw will turn him into hamburger.¡± Just the thought of Killer Paw getting his claws on my dad makes my heart feel like a lump of ice. ¡°Then what are we going to do?¡± ¡°Keep running,¡± says Justin. ¡°The woods are full of animal smells. There''s even a real wolf pack out here. Killer Paw has our scent now, but maybe we can confuse him. If he loses our sent, we can get away.¡± ¡°And go where?¡± I ask. Justin has a werewolf¡¯s heightened sense of hearing, so I know he heard me. But he still doesn¡¯t answer. Because he doesn¡¯t have an answer. Even if we escape today, Killer Paw will catch us eventually. And when he does¡­ I imagine terrifying snarls and sharp gnashing fangs. I imagine ripping flesh and bloody claws. I imagine screams of pain as the last of my blood leaks out of me. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. No. I push those thoughts from my mind and push on. More than anything, I want to go home. I want to see my mom and dad, even my annoying sister. I want to curl up in bed with my pup Bizbee. But as long as Killer Paw chases me, that will never happen. That¡¯s when the thought hits me. I grab Justin¡¯s wrist and stop running. ¡°I have an idea,¡± I say. *** Killer Paw finds me waiting alone in the dark. I stand in the clearing among knee high grass near the old mine shaft entrance. The moon above isn¡¯t full, but it¡¯s big and bright. I can see the wicked smile on his lips as he slinks out of the tree line and struts towards me. The wolf boys in their grubby, ragged clothes hang back in the shadows of the tree. I can almost see the drool dripping from their grinning mouths. ¡°What¡¯re you gonna do girl?¡± asks Killer Paw. ¡°You gonna hide in that cave again? You think that¡¯ll save you?¡± ¡°It worked last time, didn¡¯t it?¡± I say, backing away from him. ¡°Why didn¡¯t one of you chase me in there? You big bad werewolves scared of the dark?¡± Killer Paw¡¯s smile grows wider, but he ignores my question. He squints, scanning the clearing. ¡°Where did our buddy Justin go?¡± My heart hammers away in my chest. ¡°He abandoned me.¡± ¡°Funny,¡± says Killer Paw. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like something he¡¯d do.¡± ¡°Well, he did,¡± I tell him. ¡°He said I was slowing him down.¡± Killer paw stops and sniffs the air. There is something unnatural about the way he cranes his head back and lifts his nose. A breeze swirls his long hair around like a waving black flag. ¡°You¡¯re lying. I can smell that little traitor. He¡¯s close.¡± Killer Paw unbuttons his shirt. ¡°And I¡¯m going to find him.¡± Right before my eyes, Killer Paw changes. His back arches. His clothes rip. His bones twist at impossible angles, making horrible cracking sounds. Long hair sprouts out from every inch of his flesh. His transformation is much quicker than mine had been. But it doesn¡¯t look any less painful. First, Killer Paw laughs at the pain like some kind of psychopath. Then he screams in agony. The scream turns into a savage howl. The teenager is gone¡­ replaced by a big, black wolf. Chapter 17: Out of the Darkness My whole body shudders as I back away from the stalking wolf. I¡¯ve never been more scared in my life. I edge closer and closer to the mine shaft. Killer Paw creeps forward, letting out a growl that sounds like the rumble of thunder. ¡°You were right about Justin.¡± I try to sound brave but my voice trembles. ¡°He¡¯s very close.¡± FOOM! The ground behind the wolf explodes. Dirt and pine needles fly everywhere. Justin jumps out of the hole we¡¯d buried him in and bursts from the cloud of dust. He tackles Killer Paw and they both hit the ground. The black wolf snarls and sinks his fangs in Justin¡¯s arm. ¡°Aaaahhhhh!¡± Justin cries out in pain. But he doesn¡¯t loosen his grip on Killer Paw. He holds on like his life depends on it. All three of Killer Paw¡¯s boys step forward into the clearing. They haven¡¯t transformed into their wolf forms, but they bare their teeth like mad dogs. They want to help their alpha wolf, yet something stops them. They back away, not wanting to get any closer to the mine. Stay! I say to myself¡ªlike I¡¯m giving a command to my dog Bizbee. Wish I had the guts to say it to the werewolves out loud. Luckily, they keep their distance. Tangled together, Justin and Killer Paw roll down a slope and tumble between the wooden frames of the mine shaft. Once inside, they break apart, stumbling away from each other. Killer Paw whines like a sick poodle. He tries to crawl towards the mine opening but doesn¡¯t get far. The wolf flops down on his belly, thrashing and clawing at the ground. It¡¯s working! When the wolf first attacked me on that camping trip, I wondered why it never followed me into the mine shaft. I had a theory, but I wasn¡¯t sure until now. It¡¯s a silver mine! Even after all these years, there must be little traces of silver deep in the rocks. Enough of the stuff to keep a werewolf away. It¡¯s midnight dark in the mine. So dark I can barely see Justin falling to the ground. He tries to pull himself to the entrance but doesn¡¯t have the strength. The traces of silver deep in those cave walls is hurting him. I take a deep breath and rush into the darkness. The second I step into the cavern, my skin begins to boil. Oh jeeze, it hurts. Wincing in pain, I grab Justin by the collar and drag him towards the mine¡¯s opening. The silver must be sapping my new werewolf strength, because it feels like I¡¯m pulling an elephant. Eventually, I manage to haul him outside. Instantly, my skin begins to cool and the pain fades. Breathing hard, I glance back at the wolf boys. They snarl at me, but they haven¡¯t taken a step closer. They don¡¯t want to get any closer to that old silver mine. Whirling around, I face the mine shaft again. A big crack marks the wooden frame, like a lightning bolt carved into its rotting wood. I¡¯d noticed it the night I was attacked, but didn¡¯t think much about it. Now, I kick the frame as hard as I can, stomping on it with the heel of my foot. Dad showed me how to kick that way. He told me it was how cops kick in doors. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The frame shakes a little. A spray of dust rains down into the mine. Inside the tunnel, Killer Paw keeps crawling forward¡ªinch by inch. Saliva drips from the big wolf¡¯s snarling jaw. Soon he¡¯ll be out of the darkness and under the moonlight. If he gets out of the mine, I¡¯m dead meat. I kick again and again. If I was a normal girl, the kicks wouldn¡¯t do a thing to such a thick post. But I¡¯ve got werewolf blood running through my veins. The crack in the frame opens wider. The wolf boys howl at me and close in. Justin struggles to his feet and faces off against them. ¡°Back off,¡± he snarls. I hear them whine in response. The wolf boys must¡¯ve listened to Justin, because a second later, he is at my side, kicking the wood frame too. ¡°Keep at it,¡± he yells. Our feet bounce off the thick wood. THUD! THUD! THUD! Killer Paw has almost dragged himself out of the mine¡¯s opening. One black paw stretches into the clearing. The moon shines down on a furry claw. A whisper growls inside my head. ¡°Should¡¯ve joined the pack, Kat. Now I¡¯m gonna make you pay. Then we¡¯ll visit that family of yours.¡± Letting out a ferocious howl, I kick the frame once more. I put everything I have into it¡ªevery last drop of strength. Something goes ¡°CRUNCH¡± under my foot. The crack opens wide and the whole frame leans over. Dirt pours down from the cave¡¯s ceiling like a waterfall, followed by big, jagged rocks. Killer Paw whimpers as stones rain down on him. ¡°Kat, move!¡± Justin yanks me backwards. We both fall to the ground in the clearing. A split-second later, the whole mine caves in with a massive CRASH! It sounds like the whole world just exploded. An avalanche of rocks seals up the entrance for good. A huge wave of dust spits out and rolls over us. Coughing, I glance towards the tree line. The wolf boys don¡¯t say a word. They just slink off into the forest with their heads hanging low. I rub dirt from my eyes and look at Justin sitting next to me. ¡°Why didn¡¯t they attack us?¡± Justin wipes dust from his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a pack thing,¡± he says. ¡°They don¡¯t know what to do without their alpha.¡± ¡°So, is it over?¡± Justin nods as he stares at the sealed mine shaft. For a second, he looks more like an old man than a thirteen-year-old. ¡°Killer Paw is finished,¡± he says. *** Pinecones crunch under bare feet. The wolf boys wander among the trees, not saying a word to each other. They¡¯re not in a talking mood. The moon hangs above them, strong and bright. Normally, on a night like this they¡¯d transform and run wild through the woods¡ªhunting and playing. They¡¯re not in the mood for that either. One of the boys tips his head back and let out a long mournful howl. It echoes through the valley. The others join him, wailing their sad wolf song to the moon. Afterwards, the forest goes quiet. Nothing stirs. Until¡­ The giant white wolf creeps out of the shadows. The boys hear her growling whisper in their heads. ¡°Why so sad boys?¡± The oldest of the boys steps forward. He gazes down at his bare, filthy feet. He can¡¯t look the white wolf in the eyes. ¡°It¡¯s Killer Paw. He¡¯s¡­ He¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± says the second boy, finishing his brother¡¯s sentence. The boy trembles with every word. ¡°Justin and the schoolgirl killed him.¡± ¡°What¡¯re we gonna do?¡± asks the third and youngest boy. Tears stream down his dirty cheeks. The white wolf doesn¡¯t look at any of the boys. Instead, she gazes at the pale moon above, glowing in the cold blackness of space. Finally, the wolf glares at them. Her black eyes gleam in the darkness, like the moon. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what we¡¯re going to do¡± she whispers. ¡°We''re going to plot our revenge.¡± Chapter 18: So Busted! It¡¯s past ten o¡¯clock when I finally get home. I try to sneak in through the back door, but Mom is there waiting for me in the kitchen. I¡¯m so BUSTED! Mom doesn¡¯t look happy. She¡¯s got her scowly face on. Her phone sits on the table next to a cold cup of coffee. Bet she called the whole neighborhood trying to track me down. Maybe even called Dad at work. I tell some lame-o story about hanging with Sarah and losing track of time. Mom doesn¡¯t believe me¡ªI can tell. But she gives me a huge hug anyway. ¡°I was so worried,¡± Mom says. ¡°My stomach was flip-flopping for hours.¡± Then she tells me never to do that to her again and grounds me for three weeks. ¡°That¡¯s totally fair.¡± I hug her again like I haven¡¯t seen her for a million years. Mom¡¯s all confused. She hesitates a moment, arms hanging limp at her sides. Probably weirded out. After all, who gives their parent a hug after being grounded? But eventually she hugs me back, and it feels so warm and good that I don¡¯t want it to end. Later, I run into Emily in the hallway as I¡¯m heading to my room. ¡°Hi Em,¡± I say. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Emily pretends not to hear me and hustles into the bathroom¡ªnot once looking my way. I hear the door lock behind her. Guess my little performance earlier at the gym spooked her. I shrug. That¡¯s a problem for another day. Right now, all I want to do is crash. I don¡¯t even bother changing into pajamas. Instead, I kick off my shoes and belly flop on my bed. My arms and legs feel like they weigh a thousand pounds each. I lie there, not moving an aching muscle, until Bizbee scampers in my room, tail wagging like crazy. She licks my fingers. I laugh and scratch her behind the ears. And for a while, I don¡¯t think about Killer Paw or the scary stuff I just barely lived through. Bizbee jumps on the bed and curls up next to me. I fall asleep listening to her doggy snores. *** Tap. Tap. Tap. I snap upright in bed. Bizbee growls at the window, the fur on her back all bristly. Someone is out there in the dark, tapping on the glass. My heart speeds up. Oh crap. I just can¡¯t deal with any more horror. But I know the tapping isn¡¯t something I can ignore. So I go to the window and slowly brush the curtains aside so I can peer into the darkness. Instantly, I let out a relieved breath. It¡¯s Justin. I push open the window, careful not to make a squeak. ¡°What¡¯re you doing out there?¡± I whisper. A nervous glance at my clock tells me it¡¯s almost 3:00 am. ¡°Wanted to make sure you¡¯re okay.¡± He¡¯s changed clothes since I last saw him. Now he wears clean blue jeans and a hoodie. The hood is pulled loose over his head, giving him a mysterious look. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Guess I¡¯m alright.¡± I stroke Bizbee¡¯s fur, calming her down. She stops growling. ¡°But I keep seeing Killer Paw in my head. I picture him crawling in the mind shaft. Getting closer and closer.¡± My lower lip begins to twitch just recounting the thought. ¡°Might take a while to get over that,¡± says Justin. ¡°But at least you won¡¯t have to worry about the werewolf thing anymore.¡± I feel my eyebrows come together, all confused like¡ªthe same look I get doing algebra. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°It¡¯s old werewolf lore. If you kill the wolf who bit you, the curse is lifted.¡± My heart speeds up again. This time for a different reason. ¡°Wait, you mean I won¡¯t turn into a wolf anymore? No more long, gross hair? No more sneaking out on a full moon and eating raw meat?¡± Justin cracks a smile. ¡°According to the legend, you¡¯re free of all that.¡± ¡°What about the wolf pack?¡± I ask. ¡°Will they still hunt me?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make sure they don¡¯t,¡± Justin says. ¡°You just concentrate on being a nice, normal girl again.¡± A nice, normal girl. I can¡¯t believe how freakin¡¯ good that sounds. Sure, I¡¯ll miss being able to run super fast and beat my annoying sister at basketball. But at least no hairy psychos are out to kill me anymore. ¡°Thank God that¡¯s over,¡± I say. ¡°Can¡¯t believe I¡¯m actually happy to go to school. So, I¡¯ll see you in art class?¡± Justin bows his head for a moment then looks up at me. His smile is gone. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. With Killer Paw dead, my job is done. I don¡¯t need to pretend to be a schoolboy. I won¡¯t be around anymore.¡± ¡°Wait, you¡¯re leaving? Where will you go?¡± ¡°You might not be a wolf anymore Kat, but I still am. I¡¯m going back to the woods where I belong. Maybe, I¡¯ll make friends with the rest of Killer Paw¡¯s pack. They could use a new leader. One that¡¯ll keep them away from humans.¡± A cold lump lodges in my throat. After all we went through, I thought Justin and me would become friends. I had so many questions for him. But now he¡¯s leaving forever. ¡°Can I ask something before you go?¡± My voice cracks. ¡°Why did you do it? Why did you risk yourself to save me?¡± Justin pulls his hood off, so I can see his face. Looking at those eyes, it¡¯s hard to believe I ever thought he was a kid like me. ¡°I¡¯d been watching Killer Paw and his pack a while,¡± he says. ¡°It didn¡¯t take long to learn what kind of wolf he was. I knew sooner or later he¡¯d start hunting humans. So when he bit you that night¡­¡± ¡°Wait a minute.¡± I feel my jaw go slack as a wave of memories suddenly comes crashing into my brain. I see flashes of that fateful night in the woods¡ªimages of the big black wolf attacking me¡­ his fangs piercing my skin. But with all the fear and adrenaline pumping through me, there was something I¡¯d somehow forgotten. There was another wolf. ¡°You were there,¡± I say. Justin only shrugs. ¡°You were the golden wolf.¡± I struggle to keep my voice down. ¡°You fought for me. If you hadn¡¯t been there, he might have¡­¡± A shudder runs through me, and I let the words trail off. He might have eaten me. His whole pack couldn¡¯t have ripped me apart. Justin looks over his shoulder, not meeting my eyes. ¡°When you escaped, I knew you¡¯d turn eventually. Then you might change into something like them. I couldn¡¯t let that happen¡­ Not to you.¡± ¡°Why not? What¡¯s so special about me?¡± Justin stares in my direction but he isn¡¯t looking at me. His eyes go all glassy. ¡°Werewolves killed my little sister,¡± he says. ¡°I tried to save her, but I couldn¡¯t. It was a long time ago. But you remind me of her so much.¡± I nod. This is big stuff to deal with. But it makes sense. Justin couldn¡¯t save his sister, so he saved me instead. ¡°Thank you,¡± I tell him. ¡°For everything.¡± Justin gives me a smile¡ªbut it¡¯s a sad one. ¡°Have a good life Kat Lupin¡± he says. Then he puts on his hood and walks away. A moment later, the shadows swallow him up and he vanishes, like he was never really there. Chapter 19: Frozen in Fear I¡¯m still grounded so Dad drops me off at school. When I get out of his Sheriff cruiser, he doesn¡¯t drive off right away. ¡°Aren¡¯t you gonna go?¡± I ask. ¡°It¡¯s kind of embarrassing, having my dad watch me like I¡¯m some dumb little kid.¡± ¡°You¡¯re being punished, remember?¡± says Dad. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I don¡¯t get on my loud speaker and tell the whole school about your kangaroo.¡± I feel my entire face go hot. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t do that to me, would you?¡± Dad smiles real big. ¡°Have a good day at school Kat.¡± I rush to the entrance then peek over my shoulder right before going through the door. Dad¡¯s still there, parked at the curb, watching me. Part of me could just die of embarrassment. But another part of feels happy seeing him there. I can¡¯t really explain why. In the halls, I spot Sarah. I¡¯m so happy to see her that I jog right over to her, forgetting about what happened between us. Then I see the look in her eyes when she sees me hurrying towards her. Sarah¡ªmy best friend in the world, heck my only friend honestly¡ªis scared of me. ¡°Hey.¡± I got the soft, shy tone in my voice. ¡°Sorry about yesterday. I didn¡¯t mean to frighten you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Sarah says, but she doesn¡¯t look at me. She gazes down at the floor instead. And the sound of her voice tells me that it¡¯s anything but okay. ¡°You¡¯ll never believe what happened after you left,¡± I tell her. ¡°That guy Killer Paw showed up, and he started chasing me. Then¡­¡± ¡°Kat, stop.¡± Now, Sarah looks at me¡ªright in the eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t hear this right now, okay. I don¡¯t want to even think about werewolves. I just want to go to class.¡± ¡°Sarah, I¡­¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Before I can utter another word, Sarah slips away from me and hurries into her classroom. I was about to tell her that it was all over. I wasn¡¯t a werewolf anymore. But I never get the chance. Warm tears bubble up to my eyes. I fight them down, look at the floor, and run to class. *** The rest of the day doesn¡¯t get much better. I¡¯m so upset about Sarah that I flunk a math quiz (sure, that¡¯s why I flunk it). Then I spill chocolate milk on my favorite sneakers in front of everyone in the cafeteria. Finally, kids keep staring at me in the halls, whispering behind my back. Rumors start floating around about the basketball game between me and Emily. You¡¯d think dunking a basketball would finally make me cool in their eyes. But my fellow middle schoolers keep staring at me like I belong in a zoo. Like I¡¯m some sort of freak. Do they know about me? Did Sarah tell someone my secret? It doesn¡¯t matter. Sure, having a bad day at school is awful. But at least I¡¯m not a werewolf anymore. At least someday I have a chance of being ordinary. *** That night, I feel like being alone. So, at dinner I woof down a bowl of mac and cheese as fast as I can and hide in my bedroom. ¡°You don¡¯t want desert?¡± Mom asks. ¡°No thanks.¡± Mom can¡¯t believe it. I try reading one of my manga books¡ªMy Hero Academia¡ªbut I can¡¯t concentrate. My stomach feels¡­ wonky. It lets out a hungry grumble. It shouldn¡¯t be hungry, not after the mac and cheese. Then the grumble works its way up my throat and I let out a deep growl. No. This can¡¯t be happening. I rush to my window and shove my curtain open. A big white moon hangs in the sky, like the Earth¡¯s night light. A full moon. Gazing up at it, I feel my face get all itchy. The hair begins poking out of my skin again. No. It¡¯s impossible. Killer Paw is dead! My bones shift and go crack, crack, crack. I hunch over in pain and hear my clothes rip. I stare at my fingers as they grow¡­ twisting into claws. It¡¯s at that very moment that Emily barges into my room, saying something about wanting my desert if I¡¯m not going to eat it. I should¡¯ve locked my door. Emily stops frozen in her tracks. Her eyes open super wide. She tries to scream, but her vocal cords freeze up with shock and all she lets out is a whispered squeak. My wolfish muscles bunch up like coiled springs, and I leap out my bedroom window. By the time I hit the ground, I have paws instead of feet. I have almost fully transformed. I bolt towards the tree line, a low rumble building in my stomach. I glance back and see Emily watching me from the open window. Her face is frozen in fear. That¡¯s the last thing I remember before the wolf takes over. Chapter 20: Creepy Feelings Super early the next morning, Dad, Mom, and Emily jam sleeping bags and tents into the back of mom¡¯s Jeep Cherokee. The sun barely peeks over the mountains, and mom¡¯s already packing up for their big Sunflower Scouts camping trip. I watch them from the living room window, keeping my distance. Once in a while Emily throws a glance at me over her shoulder. Then her eyes dart away, real quick. She hasn¡¯t uttered a single word to me all morning. I¡¯m guessing seeing me transform into a horrific wolf beast kinda freaked Emily out. I don¡¯t blame her. I¡¯m freaked out too. Don¡¯t remember much about last night. Images of the forest flash through my brain. I recall rushing through the trees under the moonlight, hunting poor fuzzy little woodland creatures. If I caught any and chomped them down, I hope I never remember. At least I didn¡¯t raid the Silver Peak Market and end up on the news this time. Just the thought of last night gets my nervous heart all revved up. But why did I change? Justin said finishing off Killer Paw, would break the curse. I should be a normal kid again, not some a friggin¡¯ werewolf! Why is this happening to me? And more importantly, did Emily tell Mom and Dad? I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s a big fat NO, since they haven¡¯t mentioned a thing. I could be wrong though. Maybe they¡¯re all too scared of me. Maybe someone from the Zoo or the FBI or whoever¡¯s in charge of werewolf crimes will come knocking down our door, hunting for me. Since that hasn¡¯t happened yet, I think I¡¯m safe. Emily probably figured she¡¯d sound like a major weirdo if she told them my wolf secret, so she kept it to herself. I¡¯m still grounded, so no Sunflower Scouts trip for me. Plus, I heard Mom and Dad talking in the hall outside my room, whispering I might be traumatized by what happened last time I went camping. They¡¯re thinking that¡¯s why I¡¯ve been acting up lately. If they only knew. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Now, trying to get Emily¡¯s attention, I tap on the living room window. ¡°Come on,¡± I whisper to myself. ¡°Just give me your old evil vampire eye.¡± Emily ignores me, climbs into the jeep and puts on her headphones. A minute later a van pulls up with the rest of the Sunflower Scouts. Dad leans into the jeep and gives Emily a kiss on the forehead. Then he gives mom a goodbye hug. When they break apart, Mom climbs in behind the wheel and waves at me with a smile. It¡¯s not a big, happy smile, but a little, sad one. Seconds later, she and sister drive off towards the mountains, the van full of Sunflower Scouts trailing behind them. Watching them disappear down the street, I get this creepy feeling twisting in my guts that the Sunflower girls are in danger. Justin promised to keep the rest of the pack away from humans. But what if they don¡¯t listen to him? What if their pack leader isn¡¯t dead? If I¡¯m still cursed to be a werewolf girl, that could only mean one thing¡­ Killer Paw is still alive! *** An hour later my dad calls out to me as he steps through the door. ¡°Hey Kat, I¡¯m heading off. You¡¯ll be okay by yourself, right?¡± I give him a little wave as I pretend to watch some Disney show on TV. I¡¯m lounging on the sofa with a comfy blanket slung over my legs, but underneath my sneakers are all laced up and ready. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Dad. I¡¯ll call if I need you.¡± ¡°Do you even know how to use the landline?¡± ¡°I can figure it out. I¡¯m not stupid, you know. Besides, the Richardsons are home next door.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± Dad looks nervous, holding his sheriff hat in both hands. ¡°Maybe you should hang out at the station?¡± ¡°Haven¡¯t I been punished enough? I¡¯m okay, Dad. I promise.¡± ¡°Alright then, Kiddo. There¡¯s leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry.¡± I keep my eyes glued to the screen as he shuffles out the front door and locks it behind him. I hear the door to his cruiser slam shut. A moment later, the engine rumbles to life, and he drives off. I immediately spring to my feet and race to the window, watching the cruiser roll to the end of the street. ¡°One¡­ two¡­ three¡­¡± I count, forcing myself to wait in case Dad forgot something and decides to circle back to the house. When I reach one hundred, I bolt out the back door and sprint towards the tree line outside my house. Gotta find Justin. I let out a howl, calling out to him. It echoes through the woods as I sprint, weaving through trees and leaping over fallen branches. Gotta find Justin. Chapter 21: Lumberjack Ghosts ¡°What are you doing here, Kat?¡± Justin¡¯s voice growls at me from the edge of the forest. The trees are thick here. Their shade makes long, dark shadows, even in the morning sunshine. Justin slips out of one of those shadows, looking nervous. But nervous of what? I¡¯m standing in the clearing with my back to the old silver mineshaft. I never wanted to visit this place again. ¡°I had to see for myself,¡± I say. "I had to make sure he¡¯s dead.¡± We both glance over at the mine shaft. Once it had a big cave-like entrance with a dark yawning mouth. Now there¡¯ nothing to see but a big pile of jagged rocks. As far as I can tell, the whole mine collapsed, crushing Killer Paw like a bug. At least that¡¯s what we thought. But what if Killer Paw wasn¡¯t killed? What if he somehow survived the cave-in and crawled out? What if¡­ ¡°Nobody walks away from that,¡± says Justin, as if he¡¯s read my mind. ¡°Killer Paw is gone. I¡¯m sure of it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I say. ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear me howling?¡± ¡°The whole forest heard you.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you get it? I¡¯m still a friggin¡¯ werewolf!¡± Justin looks down at his feet. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± ¡°But I thought if I killed the wolf who bit me, the curse would be lifted?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Kat. The old legends must be wrong. I didn¡¯t mean to get your hopes up.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t do this. I can¡¯t be a werewolf anymore.¡± I¡¯m yelling at him. None of this messed up situation is Justin¡¯s fault, but I can¡¯t help it. I¡¯ve got no one else to yell at. ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice.¡± Justin¡¯s voice is almost a whisper. ¡°This is who you are now. You need to accept that.¡± ¡°No. I need to be normal. I need¡­¡± A twig snaps. Justin twists around lightning-quick, looking into the trees again. His whole body goes tense. A squirl scampers into the clearing, spots us, and does a 180 back into the trees. Justin lets out a sigh of relief. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I ask. ¡°Why are you so jumpy?¡± Justin doesn¡¯t meet my eyes. ¡°It¡¯ Killer Paw¡¯s pack. They weren¡¯t interested in being friends.¡± ¡°But they¡¯re gonna stay away from the town, right? They¡¯re going to leave everyone alone.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± My heart revs up. I feel it pounding inside my chest. ¡°My mom and sister are out in the woods right now. They¡¯re camping with a troop of Sunflower Scouts. Are they in danger?¡± Justin pauses a moment, searching for the right words to say. Words that will comfort me and put my mind at ease. But all he manages is¡­ ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on them.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going with you.¡± ¡°No,¡± says Justin. The word sounds like a slamming door. ¡°If the pack sees us together again, they¡¯ll never listen to me.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°I¡¯m an outsider to them, because I don¡¯t share the same bloodline. But you do. That makes you a traitor to the pack. You chose humans over them and helped kill their leader. I don¡¯t know if the pack will forgive you for that.¡± My skin suddenly feels flush and hot. My eyes well up, and my shoulders slump low like heavy weights are pulling my arms down. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do.¡± ¡°There¡¯s nothing you can do, Kat.¡± Justin stalks towards the woods, not even throwing a glance back at me. ¡°Just go home.¡± *** I wander alone through the woods, trying to fight off the tears. I totally fail. My eyes go all wet and squinty and snot rolls out of my nostrils. Real cool, right? I wasn¡¯t great at being a teenager. Wasn¡¯t the best sister in the world or the best daughter. But at least I wasn¡¯t some furry, savage monster. What am I going to do? The trees thin out and my path leads into another clearing. In the center, surrounded by tree stumps and weeds, sits a few old cabins. Sunshine doesn¡¯t do them any favors. They remind me of the old un-housed guys you¡¯d sometimes see at the city park, slumped over and gray-skinned. The cabin roofs are all saggy with worn shingles. The walls, once painted a happy yellow, are now faded and scared with cracks. The porches are infested with spiderwebs and piles of dead, brown pine needles. It''s been a while since I¡¯ve seen this place. Me and my dad hiked here a few times when I was little. It¡¯s some old lumberjack camp or something, shut down way before I was born. Heck, probably before my dad was born. He told me once the county planned to make it a historic site, someplace with a plaque, a nice path, and some picnic tables. But they couldn¡¯t because the camp was haunted. Dad said everyone was afraid the lumberjack ghosts would rise up and scare off the tourists. Real funny, Dad. Friggin¡¯ hilarious. I tell myself that over and over, but I still find myself holding my breath. I wipe away my tears and walk quicker, taking the long way around the camp. Afterall, if werewolves are real, why not ghosts? Just what I need¡ªbeing cursed and haunted. I let out a fake chuckle to myself as pine needles crunch under my sneakers. Without realizing it, I break into a jog, hurrying towards town. With my luck, the ghosts will chase me the whole way. Chapter 22: The World Explodes! Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. I¡¯m so upset, I get all turned around and lose my way among the trees. Some werewolf I am, huh? I end up trudging out of the woods over by the middle school. I cross the kickball field and reach the back of the school¡¯s main building. Schools are lonely places on weekends. No ringing bells. No chatting kids. Just a whole lot of silence. I pass by the classroom windows with my head down. The scent of pine trees still fills my nostrils. But I smell something else, just a hint of it in hanging in the air. Something sweet. Suddenly, I¡¯ve got this creeping feeling coming over me, like someone is watching every step I take. I quicken my pace, passing by the building¡¯s front entrance. I¡¯m just being paranoid. Killer Paw is buried under a friggin¡¯ mountain. I reach the front gate, glad to leave the school behind. Everything will be okay, I tell myself. I can trust Justin. He¡¯ll watch over Mom and Emily. Nothing bad will happen. Then something bad does happens. Something smashes into the back of my head. A bomb goes off in my skull. Not a real bomb, but it sure feels like one. The whole world spins wildly, and I tumble face-first into the side walk. A thick darkness falls over me, like someone has thrown a heavy blanket over my head. The last thing I see is a pair of yellow high-heeled shoes. The last thing I smell is sweet lavender perfume. *** I wake up in a cage. I¡¯m on my feet, pinned against thin metal bars. Pinned so tight, in fact, I¡¯m forced to stand up. I can¡¯t lie down even if I want to. I struggle to breath. A whole lot of round things press against my spine, my legs, my face. The round things have tiny little bumps all over them. I¡¯m buried in a pile of¡­ basketballs? Where am I? A heavy fog clouds both my brain and my vision. I keep blinking until some of it floats away. I realize I¡¯m in the supply room of the school gym, imprisoned in the ball cage. The thing looks like a trap for a rabid monkey. It¡¯s maybe five feet tall with chain-link bars all around. Coach Ray locks all the basketballs in here so students don¡¯t try to steal them. Once, I overheard some of the boys at school yapping about how fun it would be to dive right into the basketball cage. It¡¯s not fun at all. It¡¯s super hard to move in here, even a few inches. But I manage to slip my hand to the cage door and give it a shake. It rattles but doesn¡¯t open. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Then perfume overwhelms me. It¡¯s even stronger than the rubbery basketball smell. I hear the click-clack of high heels against the floor and I know who¡¯s coming before I see her. ¡°I¡¯m very disappointed in you, Katrina.¡± Miss Chaney strolls across the supply room, looking out of place in her yellow flower dress. The lights are all off in the room, but sunshine sneaks in through a high window. The sun throws her shadow against the floor. ¡°Miss Chaney? What am I doing in here?¡± She ignores my question and runs her fingers across the bars of my cage. They make a horrible ¡°Clink, Clink, Clink¡± sound, like metal on metal. But it¡¯s not Miss Chaney¡¯s fingers making that noise. It¡¯s her fingernails. They seem longer¡­ stronger. More like claws. ¡°You should have been able to smell me. Even with all this perfume I wear.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I feel my heart pounding in my chest, so hard it hurts. ¡°Miss Chaney, did you hit me? Did you put me in here?¡± She ignores my questions again and rattles the bars once more with her fingernails. ¡°It was understandable when we first met. You were just learning your powers. But we turned you a month ago. By now, you should be able to sense your own kind.¡± I feel my grip tighten on the bars. I bet my eyes get all wide. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ You¡¯re a werewolf?¡± She looks down at the tile floor, shaking her head and chuckling. ¡°No child, I¡¯m not a werewolf. I am the werewolf.¡± She turns to look at me then, and I swear her eyes have changed. They¡¯re black as oil and fierce. ¡°I am the alpha.¡± My brain screams like crazy. The white wolf! The one that looked so powerful and noble. My art teacher is the white wolf. ¡°What do you want from me?¡± My voice cracks like a scared little kid¡¯s. Because right now, that¡¯s exactly what I am. ¡°Somehow you managed to defeat Killer Paw,¡± she says. ¡°Who knows how someone like you could outsmart him. I¡¯d guess it was a fluke. But still, you took away a member of my pack.¡± ¡°I had to do it. He was going to kill me.¡± Miss Chaney sneers. ¡°Oh, boo-hoo for you, What about my problem? Now, the pack is short a member. We need a replacement. You seem like the most likely candidate. But if I¡¯m being honest, I don¡¯t think you have what it takes. I can smell the fear in you, Katrina Lupin. An awkward outcast like you should relish being wolf kind. Don¡¯t you understand what an incredible gift you¡¯ve been given?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone.¡± ¡°And why not?¡± asks Miss Chaney. ¡°Does the cat worry about hurting a mouse? Does a shark lose sleep over feasting on a seal? It¡¯s the way of the world, girl. Eat or be eaten. But maybe you¡¯re too stupid to understand that.¡± She wanders away from the cage and runs her hands down the front of her dress, flattening out wrinkles. Pretending to be human, I realize. ¡°Despite what you might think, I¡¯m not a monster, Katrina.¡± ¡°You could prove it,¡± I say, hating how small my voice sounds. ¡°You could just let me out of here. I won¡¯t tell anyone about you. I promise.¡± Her smile makes me think about a mean dog baring its teeth. ¡°You would say anything to save yourself. But it won¡¯t be that easy.¡± ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Miss Chaney stops circling my cage and looks me dead in the eyes. ¡°If you want out of here, you need to transform into a wolf. And you need to do it NOW.¡± Chapter 23: Going Wolfy Shadows creep across the supply room floor, closing in on me. The sun that once shined through the high window has gone gray. Is it almost night? Feels like hours have passed since Miss Chaney left, but I can still smell her lavender perfume in the air. I shake the bars of my cage for the hundredth time. I yell my lungs out again. With all the screaming, my throat feels like I¡¯ve swallowed glass. My raw, raspy voice echoes off the supply room¡¯s walls, but no one comes. I¡¯m truly all alone. I can¡¯t even sit down and have a real good cry. The basketballs crush me against the cage bars, making me gasp for breath. I hear Ms. Chaney¡¯s words play over and over again in my head. ¡°If you want to get out, all you need to do is transform,¡± she had said. It was still daytime and the sun made her yellow dress glow like gold. ¡°Your wolf form could break right through that door.¡± ¡°But¡­ It¡¯s still light out. There¡¯s no moon.¡± She stared at me¡­ through me. Her eyes had gone as black as eel skin. ¡°You don¡¯t need the moon to turn. You never did. You simply need to embrace the animal deep within you.¡± I felt my heart race. Could it be true? Could I really go all wolfy just by thinking about it? If Ms. Chaney was right, my wolf form could break free. Maybe I could outrun her. It was worth a shot. I closed my eyes, concentrating hard. I thought about hair and claws. I thought about raw meat and howling at the moon. A low growl worked its way up my throat. I gripped the bars again, and shook them as hard as I could. Nothing happened. I didn¡¯t change at all. Didn¡¯t even grow a long, gross hair like before. I wasn¡¯t a werewolf. I was still just plain, stupid, weak Kat. ¡°Pathetic,¡± said Ms. Chaney. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll have more luck with your sister. I hear she¡¯s camping out with your mom in my forest.¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°No.¡± It was the only word my brain would let me say. ¡°No. No, No.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll say hello,¡± said Ms. Chaney. Then she strolled out the door, high heels clicking away. It was the worst thing anyone has ever said to me, and she didn¡¯t even throw a glance my way when she said it. Like I didn¡¯t matter. Now, in the dark of the supply room, I think about Ms. Chaney and her werewolf pack circling the Sunflower Scouts¡¯ campsite. In my mind, I see my mom and sister hugging each other close, terrified. I see wolves with saliva dripping from their fangs, prowling closer and closer to them. I taste salt and realize it¡¯s my tears streaming down my cheeks to my lips. Stop crying. I think to myself. Don¡¯t be a baby. But I can¡¯t stop. The tears keep coming. My body shakes as I sob. STOP IT! The words roll out of my throat, a low, angry growl. My hands grip the bars so tightly my knuckles turn pale. Metal screeches as it begins to bend. Then¡­ KREAAAACH! I rip the cage doors apart as if they were made of popsicle sticks. Basketballs bounce and roll across the floor as I leap from the cage and dash towards the door. Mom¡­ Emily¡­ I need to save them. But how? Ms. Chaney has obviously been a werewolf a long time and she¡¯ll have a whole pack watching her back. I¡¯ll be lucky if I can find Justin. My pulse pounds. My veins twitch. I sprint through the school hallways, feeling the change coming over me. Then something catches my eye. My sneakers screech against the tile as I stumble to a full stop. The sign beside the door reads, ¡°Miss Chaney, Art 201.¡± I don¡¯t let myself transform. Not yet. Instead, I keep the wolf inside and push my way into Miss Chaney¡¯s classroom. It¡¯s a quiet, lonely place at night. Scents of watercolor paint and magic markers hang in the very air, tickling my nose. The normally cheerful artwork thumbtacked to the walls now looks dark and sad. I circle around to Miss Chaney¡¯s desk. It takes less than 10 seconds to find what I¡¯m looking for¡ªa bottle of perfume. I slam the bottom drawer shut and slip the bottle into my pocket. Then I rush out of the room and into the corridor. It¡¯s there I find the big trophy case near the school¡¯s entrance. Through the finger-smudged glass, I gaze at the basketball trophy my dad won when he was a student here. A sudden realization hits me. I know what I need to do. My hands shake as I open the case. Chapter 24: The White Wolf Lillian Chaney takes off her high heels as soon as she leaves the school. She wants to feel the earth beneath her feet. The soft dirt. The rough rocks. The sappy pine needles. She wants to feel it all. But first she must feel the annoying concrete these humans are so fond of. She launches herself into the night, sprinting hard, her feet barely kissing the hard, blacktop street. She doesn¡¯t change to the White Wolf, not yet. The change is much more delicious if you delay gratification. Like thinking about an ice cream sundae all day long then finally being able to devour when night comes. It takes Lillian no time at all to reach the woods. Minutes later, she finds herself eight miles north of town, still wearing her lovely yellow dress. Despite the bright garment, Lillian doesn¡¯t have a care in the world. She is certain no one can spot her as she moves among the trees. It is night and Lillian knows how to be unseen. A cool breeze whispers through the pines, like a song meant only for her. She missed this place. Once upon a time, it was her home. But it¡¯s not wise for a werewolf to stay in one place too long. When ranchers start losing livestock, they tend to hunt for the predators responsible. When someone¡¯s child goes missing, the hunt becomes more serious. So Lillian spent her life wandering from one little mountain town to the next. She hunted. She howled at the moon. But always, she moved on. Enough of that. Lillian is done running. It is time to make this place her home again. Slowly, she had built a pack of young werewolves to roam the forest with her. She gathered strays during her travels. One boy from this town. Another boy from that town. Usually, they were the lost and forgotten ones, children without parents. Usually. Lillian had decided they would stay together in these woods, hunting as they pleased. As long as they kept their numbers low, the city dwellers wouldn¡¯t discover their pack. But they could still use a fresh recruit to replace poor old Killer Paw. Which is why Lillian is here. The wind shifts, carrying the girl¡¯s scent. Lillian knows right away this is Katrina¡¯s sister. Lillian can smell it in her blood. The girl wanders the edge of a clearing, swinging a flashlight back and forth. Another girl accompanies her to collect firewood. It just happens to be one of the students from Lillian¡¯s middle school art class. Lillian tries to remember the girl¡¯s name. Sally? Sarah perhaps. It¡¯s not really important. Both wear the ridiculous scout uniform with matching berets. A dog sniffs the ground beside the girls. It¡¯s the same domestic mutt that tired to save Katrina weeks ago. Of course, the dog is no threat to Lillian. Neither is the campsite full of girls two hundred yards away. No threat at all. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Lillian glances up at the rising moon before letting out a grunt. She wishes it was full, but a crescent will do just fine. Her pack members step out from behind trees or rise up from bushes. One by one, they transform. They snarl and wince as their bones stretch and their skin sprouts hair. The strange noises from the woods catch the girls¡¯ attention. Katrina¡¯s sister sweeps the flashlight over the tree line. Lillian watches them back away from the edge of the forest towards their camp. as if their campfire and fellow scouts could save them. She can smell the fear on them. Lillian slips out of her yellow dress, leaving it wadded up among the pine needles Then she transforms and creeps into the clearing. The girls spot her white-furred body instantly. But they are two terrified to move a muscle. Katrina¡¯s sister tries to scream. It comes out as a high-pitched whine. The dog beside her lets out a rattle of ferocious barks, but it backs away. Stay away from them! The dog says. Stay away! But the White Wolf isn¡¯t listening. She prowls forward towards the girls. If someone were watching the scene play out on video, they would swear the wolf was smiling. *** ¡°STOP!¡± My voice echoes through the trees, louder than I ever thought possible. ¡°Leave them alone.¡± I leap over a fallen log and pounce into the clearing. Back at the school, I grabbed an old Army backpack from the lost-and-found, and now it bounces on my shoulder. Something heavy sits inside. I can¡¯t believe it. The White Wolf actually listens to me and stops creeping towards Emily and Sarah. ¡°It¡¯s me you want,¡± I say. The wolf squints at me, watching as I circle around it. I edge closer towards Emily and Sarah. They stand frozen in disbelief, too afraid to even cry or scream out. Something rustles behind me¡ªbranches and pine needles cracking under the weight of paws. Furry shapes prowl the shadows. Eyes glow in the half moonlight. I know the wolf boys are out there among the pines. I can smell them. But they aren¡¯t boys anymore. Sarah is the first one to speak. Her chin quivers, but somehow, she gets the words out. ¡°Kat? What¡¯s happening?¡± Yes, Katrina. What is happening? The whisper-voice echoes in my head again. The White Wolf traps me with its sinister gaze. ¡°I¡¯m giving myself to you,¡± I tell the wolf. ¡°Leave them alone and I promise, I¡¯ll obey you.¡± Both Sarah and Emily turn to gawk at me, a million questions in their expressions. Of course, they can¡¯t hear the wolf¡¯s whispers in their heads. So I must look completely psycho to them. And why should I take you, hmmm? Again, the White Wolf whispers. You can¡¯t even turn at will. What good is a wolf in my pack who stumbles upon two skinny, clumsy legs? ¡°You want me to turn?¡± I keep my eyes on the wolf, but I step backwards. Behind me, there is a gap between the wolf boys, a path through the dense trees. ¡°Come get me and I¡¯ll show you.¡± Without another word, I bolt into the thick stand of trees. I sprint hard, crashing through shrubs and hurdling tree stumps. Pine branches lash at my face. The army bag smacks against my back. Even through the pack¡¯s fabric, even through my shirt, I can feel the thing inside. It makes my back itch and burn. They wait a few moments, like they¡¯re giving me a head start. Like I was some dumb kid who wouldn¡¯t stand a chance otherwise. Then they chase me. Chapter 25: Red Blood, White Fur I keep running. My heart hammers in my chest, so fast it feels like it¡¯ll pop. My lungs burn. My feet ache and bleed, the flesh of my heels torn by hard rocks and sharp branches. I keep running. Under branches. Over logs. Through a slippery, slimy creek. I keep running. And somehow, I make it. The woods get thinner, the trees further and further apart. Eventually, I stumble into a grassy clearing and do an Olympic level face plant. The grass feels slick and cool on my face. Soft even. Maybe not bed-full-of pillows soft, but soft enough. I¡¯d love to just lie here and catch my breath, but I know that¡¯s impossible. By the time I get to my hands and feet, the wolf boys have caught up to me. The White Wolf is few seconds behind, trotting towards me with a savage grin. Taking her time. Why all the running? Her whispers echo in my skull. Were you trying to lure us to this place. This place as she calls it is the abandoned lumberjack camp. Lit only by the crescent moon, the cabins are even creepier that the last time I was here. You can¡¯t see the spiderwebs covering every square inch. But with all the thick shadows, the rotting buildings look like monstrous faces, with long cracked windows for evil eyes. The sagging roofs make me think of sharp scowling eyebrows. The piles of dirty dry pine needles are like rough patches of hair. A breeze sweeps into the camp, whistling through the dead, black trees. Answer me. The White Wolf stalks closer. The wolf boys begin to circle me, fur bristling on their backs. Is this your pathetic idea of a trap? ¡°No,¡± I say. But the word catches in my throat and come out like a cough. Slowly, my trembling hand slides beneath the strap of the army backpack. I shrug my shoulder, trying to ease the strap loose. ¡°I just didn¡¯t want sister to see me change.¡± Oh really? Then what¡¯s in the bag, Kat? I freeze. My hammering heart hits the brakes and comes to a full stop. ¡°Nothing.¡± The wolf prowls a bit closer. Saliva drips from her gleaming fangs. Do you think I am some stupid pup? I can smell the silver from here. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re¡­¡± I never finish my sentence. Instead, I rip the pack off my shoulder and thrust my hand inside. I am about to yank it out of the bag when a wrecking ball of fur and muscle and bones slams against me, sending me stumbling to the ground. It¡¯s one of the wolf boys. While I clumsily tumble across the dirt like a dizzy toddler, he lands gracefully on his paws. The bag flops open and my secret weapon slides out into the moonlight¡ªnot so friggin¡¯ secret anymore. It¡¯s my dad¡¯s basketball trophy from a million years ago. A shiny little guy stands on the trophy¡¯s base. Back then, when you won the state championship, they gave you a special trophy, one created by the Silver Rush Mining Company. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. The trophy is made of silver. The White Wolf sniffs in the trophy¡¯s direction but keeps a few paces back. They sure don¡¯t like getting close to the stuff. What were you going to do with this? Did you plan to stab me with it? She prowls closer and closer then leaps up onto a thick tree stump. Perched there, she reminds me of a creepy stone gargoyle, always on watch. I step backwards, towards the run-down cabins. But I never take my eyes off her. The fur on her back begins to get all spikey. Salvia drips from her fangs as she lets out a low growl. Stab me?! Her whispers grow louder and louder inside my skull. Did you really believe I would allow that to happen? I back away even further and feel my heel bump against rough and scratchy. It¡¯s the wooden porch around one of the lumberjack¡¯s cabins. Something is chattering in the dark. I soon realize it¡¯s my own teeth. I suck in a deep breath and watch the White Wolf on the stump, crouching low, her legs flexing. Ready to pounce. ¡°Wait.¡± I put my hands up, like I¡¯m surrendering. ¡°Did you notice something?¡± The Wolf doesn¡¯t leap at me, not yet. Instead, she pauses and squints in my direction. What did you say? ¡°My dad¡¯s trophy. Notice anything about it?¡± The White Wolf throws a suspicious glare my way then turns and gazes at the shining trophy lying in the dirt. What are you talking about? ¡°Look closer, I say.¡± She hops off the tree stump and pads over a few steps, cocking her wolfish head to one side. Then her whole body goes tense. I know she sees it. My dad¡¯s trophy is missing its arms. She has just enough time to whirl back at me and bare her teeth, before something whips through the air and stops her in her tracks. The White Wolf yelps and tumbles to the dirt. She stumbles on unsteady legs before finally getting to her paws. Then she falls again, whining and thrashing. An arrow sticks out of her side. Bright red blood paints her white fur. The wolf boys scamper to help her. They run so fast their paws kick up dirt and pine needles. Then a voice stops them cold. ¡°Get back!¡± Justin steps out from behind a tree, holding a bow in gloved hands. He has an arrow pulled back and ready. Moonlight gleams off the twisted arrowhead. Justin had replaced the normal one with a two-inch length of silver¡ªone of the arms of my dad¡¯s basketball trophy. The other silver arm was lodged in the White Wolf¡¯s hide. Two arrowheads, that¡¯s all Justin could make in such a short amount of time. He had to wear heavy leahter gloves to do it, quickly filing the silver to a point and attaching it to the arrow shaft. Even in with the gloves, his skin burned and his eyes welled up with tears. Gripping the bow now, Justin squints, his eyes looking red and irritated being so close to the metal. Snarling, the wolf boys snap their fangs at the empty air, but they don¡¯t get any closer. Justin backs them off, taking aim at one wolf, then the other. The wolf boys sniff the air as they retreat. They look confused. ¡°You like my new scent, boys?¡± Justin asks. Lavander! The voice whispered. The White Wolf had quit thrashing around and crawls now, baring her fangs in rage. Blood leaks out of the arrow wound and darkens the ground. You stole my perfume! ¡°Had to cover my scent somehow,¡± says Justin. ¡°Couldn¡¯t have you sniffing me out while I was hiding. It was Kat¡¯s idea.¡± I pull the little perfume bottle from my pocket and toss it at the Wolf. She flinches as the glass shatters against a rock a few feet from her snout. Very clever, Kat. The White Wolf sounds ragged, like she¡¯s having trouble breathing. Growling in pain, she twists around and snatches the arrow shaft with her teeth. With one angry yank of her head, she tears the arrow free and spits it out. The arrow bounces twice and comes to rest in the dirt. But clever won¡¯t save you. Chapter 26: That Sinister Smile I don¡¯t plan. I don¡¯t think. I just move. One second, my feet are cemented to the ground. The next second, I¡¯m jumping, grabbing hold of the cabin¡¯s crossbeam and swinging myself up. Splinters of rotten wood stab into my fingers, but I don¡¯t have time to care about it. I scramble onto the roof, my shoes slipping on the cabin¡¯s shingles. That adrenaline stuff surges through me, sending fuel to my muscles. Which is good, ¡®cause I¡¯m gonna need them. A vicious claw appears at the roof¡¯s edge, raking the shingles. Then the White Wolf pulls herself up. She is a living, breathing nightmare¡ªa savage, snarling horror show soaked in blood. If it wasn¡¯t for her wound, I¡¯d be dead meat already. She said herself, she¡¯s been a werewolf a long time. Normally, she¡¯s stronger than me, faster than me. But the blood loss from the arrow has slowed her down. ¡°Would you just die already?¡± My voice cracks into a half-sob. Can¡¯t believe that came out of my mouth. Twelve-year-old Kat Lupin would never dream of saying something so mean. But thirteen-year-old Kat is exhausted and scared and done with all this. Too bad all this isn¡¯t done with me. The White Wolf takes a flying swipe at me. I manage to slip out of the way¡­ barely. Her nasty claw slices the air, an inch from my nose. That claw would have ripped me open, I¡¯m sure of it. Instead, I trip over a loose roof shingle and tumble backwards, landing hard on my butt. The White Wolf bares her fangs at me, flashing a sneering smile. Stupid girl. You¡¯ve read too many stories. Seen too many movies. You aren¡¯t the hero of this fairytale. You¡¯re nobody. ¡°Stay¡­ stay away from me,¡± I stammer as scuttle backwards, desperate to get away from her. Sweat streams down my face, mixing with my tears. I can smell the fear in that sweat. I¡¯m so filled with panic, I barely hear Justin¡¯s voice call out to me. ¡°Kat!¡± He¡¯s on the ground, a few paces from the cabin now. One of the wolves lies a few yards from him, squirming and howling. An arrow sticks out of the wolf¡¯s back. Two more wolf boys growl low and mean as they stalk towards Justin. The only thing keeping them from pouncing on him is the silver thing shining in Justin¡¯s hand¡ªmy dad¡¯s basketball trophy. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Catch!¡± Justin tosses the trophy underhand, sending it sailing upwards, lightning fast, right towards me. Before Killer Paw¡¯s bite, I was such a dorky, klutz, I would¡¯ve let the trophy fumble out of my hands. But now, thanks to the werewolf blood flowing through my veins, I snatch the trophy right out of the air with one hand. Luckily, it has a wooden base for the tiny silver guy to stand on, otherwise I wouldn¡¯t be able to hold the thing. Even through the wood, I can feel an unnatural heat surging to my palm and burning my fingers. Ignoring the pain, I spin to face the White Wolf again, slashing the air with the trophy like Ghostface with his favorite knife. Since we cut off the little silver basketball guy¡¯s arms, the trophy is left with a pair of jagged, sharp stumps. ¡°Come on!¡± There¡¯s an anger to my voice that I don¡¯t even recognize. ¡°Come on!¡± We both know you don¡¯t have it in you. The White Wolf bares her fangs in a sinister smile, but she doesn¡¯t step closer. ¡°Let¡¯s find out.¡± I shout the words, trying my best to sound tough. I hope she can¡¯t hear the fear in my voice, but I know she can. A wolfish smile vanishes. She lowers her head, looking like my dog Bizbee after getting scolded. Her whisper reaches out to me. Maybe this has gone too far, Kat. We shouldn¡¯t be fighting amongst ourselves. The White Wolf raises her head, but she doesn¡¯t snarl or glare. Her eyes have gone soft. Like it or not, we are a family now. Like it or not¡­ She never finishes her sentence. Instead, the White Wolf leaps, a murderous blur of bloody fur. So fast I don¡¯t see the flashing claw, whipping around at me. But I feel it. For a split-second, it doesn¡¯t hurt any worse than a bee sting. Then, all at once, a pain like I¡¯ve never felt before rips through my chest. Blood gushes from my skin, warm and wet. I stumble backwards, my feet slipping out from under me. I smash down hard against the very edge of the roof. A shrieking cry of pain echoes through the clearing. It takes a moment before I realize it¡¯s me doing the shrieking. Shhhhhhhh, the wolf whispers. No need for that. It¡¯s almost over. I grit my teeth together, my own fingers digging into the roof shingles. Somehow, I keep myself from rolling off and plummeting to the ground below. But that¡¯s the only luck I have. I don¡¯t remember losing my grip on the trophy, but I spot the thing clattering across roof and sliding off the edge. It takes a few rough bounces along the ground then ends up standing stupidly in the middle of the clearing, like it¡¯s an award being given to the trees. Oh crap. That¡¯s me thinking, not the White Wolf¡¯s whisper. I watch her lick my blood off her paw before trotting towards me. And now your weapon is gone. So tragic, but so fitting. You were never cut out for this. This is it. This is the end of me. I¡¯ll never attend high school or see a rated-R movie in the theater. I¡¯ll never go to prom, which I didn¡¯t even know was important to me until this very second. I¡¯ll never see my family again. Chapter 27: Snapping Fangs and Slashing Claws A yelping howl stops the White Wolf in her tracks and that murderous glare of hers disappears. Her ears perk up as she glances down at the ground below. I follow her gaze and spot Justin fighting with a wolf boy. Except, this isn¡¯t the Justin I know from art class. It¡¯s the golden-brown wolf who saved me that horrible night. I watch, stunned. How did he turn so fast? The golden chomps down hard on the wolf boy¡¯s hind leg. His fangs draw blood and crunch bones. With a whimper, the wolf boy crawls away, dragging his shattered leg behind. Another one, a smoky, gray-furred wolf, backs away with his tail between his legs. Justin must have clawed him earlier, because blood drips from a gash under the wolf boy¡¯s neck. Letting out an angry bark, the White Wolf leaps from the cabin¡¯s roof. Justin barely turns in time to face her. She crashes down on him and the two wolves tumble together across the clearing. They become a whirling, twirling mass of snapping fangs and slashing claws. I instantly think back to when Justin fought Killer Paw in the grocery store parking lot. Like then, this fight is complete chaos¡ªviolent and wild and terrifying. I want to look away but can¡¯t. Traitor! The White Wolf snarls. You betray your own kind for the humans? The golden growls back at her. You¡¯re not my kind. Justin springs at her, fangs bared. He is all muscle and speed. But it doesn¡¯t matter. Even wounded with blood painting her tangled fur, the White Wolf is too ferocious for him. She slips away from Justin¡¯s attack then dives at him, sinking her fangs into his hide, above the shoulder. The bite is deep enough to draw blood, but not deep enough to stop him. Justin rips himself away from her but doesn¡¯t escape in time. Her claws flash in the moonlight as they cut through fur and flesh. Now it¡¯s Justin¡¯s turn to let out a yelp, just like the wolf boys had. He slinks away from the White Wolf, leaving a trail of red on the dirt. She stalks towards him. Gotta do something. I can¡¯t let her kill Justin, not after he saved me. Lunging, the White Wolf snaps at Justin¡¯s throat. She misses by inches but forces Justin to scramble backwards. She rushes forward and claws him again and again. Justin does a clumsy somersault, his legs flopping around wildly. Then he rolls back up to his feet. He legs twitch. Blood splatters his golden fur. He growls at her, trying to look brave and strong. But it¡¯s only a matter of time before she gets a hold of him and¡­ No! I can¡¯t let that happen. Frantically, I search the rooftop, desperate to find a weapon of some sort. But there¡¯s nothing up here that¡¯s of any use. Including me. I¡¯m useless. That¡¯s when I see my dim shadow cast down on the roof shingles. Craning my neck around, I spot the crescent moon high hanging there in an inky, cloudless sky. I gaze at my hand a moment, the veins bulging beneath my skin. Then I close my eyes and mumble something close to a prayer. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Come on. Come on. Please. Pain suddenly surges through my body like a jolt of electricity. It¡¯s a dull ache at first, then it stabs deep and quick all the way to my bones. I cringe and hunch over, feeling my teeth turn into knives. Feeling hair erupt from my flesh. My bones stretch and crack. My fingernails curve into claws. Throwing my head back, I let loose with a terrifying wolf¡¯s howl. Then I jump. My wolf body cannonballs against the White Wolf¡¯s back, sending her crashing face first into the ground. She lets out a harsh growl and rears up, throwing me off of her. I bounce and roll through the clearing, only coming to a stop when I smack against a tree stump. Justin drags his wounded body towards me. The smell of his salty blood mixes with the sweet lavender perfume. The White Wolf prowls closer, an angry sneer on her lips. Congrats, young Kat. You¡¯ve finally embraced your inner wolf. Unfortunately, it¡¯s too little, too late. I¡¯ve made a decision about your little sister. I¡¯m not going to turn her into one of us. I¡¯m going to turn her into dinner. I want to scream ¡°shut up¡± at the top of my lungs. But all that comes out is a sobbing growl. Licking her lips, the White Wolf inches towards us a little more. And I won¡¯t stop with your sister. Oh no. That whole little scout troop will soon be my buffet. Her whispers send a tremor through my whole body. I don¡¯t know how, but I need to stop her. Somehow, I need to¡­ I catch sight of something behind her, an object shining in the darkness. My eyes flick to Justin. Even wounded and exhausted, he notices it too. He gives me a silent nod and hunches low, coiling his leg muscles beneath him. If flexing like this hurts him, he doesn¡¯t show it. I follow his lead, feeling my claws sink into the rough earth. The White Wolf continues her rant, like this is her moment. Like Justin and I are nothing. Your mom, your best friend¡­ They¡¯re all going to die. And it¡¯s all your fault. Her words are meant to rip my heart out. She wants me to cry¡­ to beg. But that¡¯s not happening. Justin and I let out one last growl and spring at her. The White Wolf rears up to meet us, fangs gleaming in the moonlight. We don¡¯t go for her throat. We drop our heads and smash into her with the hard bones of our shoulders. Alone, neither of us could move her an inch. But together, we slam into her like pair of flying cinderblocks. Those coal black eyes open real wide and the White Wolf topples over, falling backwards. For the rest of my life, I¡¯ll remember that horrible crunch sound. I¡¯ll remember the White Wolf¡¯s howling wail too. Sad and angry and desperate all at the same time. Like she can¡¯t believe this is happening to her. Her body thrashes violently then trembles all over. A few seconds later, the White Wolf goes quiet and her body slumps over. My dad¡¯s silver basketball trophy sticks out of her back, blood dripping from its base. I can¡¯t take my eyes off of her. Any moment, I expect the wolf to transform back into my art teacher Miss Chaney. That¡¯s what happens in the movies, right? But this isn¡¯t a movie. There are no last-minute special effects to wow a theater audience. The White Wolf just lies there, all the life drained out of those once fearsome eyes. A low growl breaks me out of my daze. It¡¯s Justin, the fur on his back all spiked and prickly. The wolf boys creep towards us, there eyes narrow and hard. I¡¯m too exhausted to run away, so I bare my fangs hoping to scare them off. It doesn¡¯t work. Closer and closer, they creep. Justin does his best to look intimidating. But after the White Wolf thrashed him around, I know he doesn¡¯t have much more fight left in him. It doesn¡¯t look good for us. But then the wolf boys do the unexpected. They stop a few feet from us and droop low, eyeing the ground and bowing their heads to us. Maybe I saw it once on YouTube. Or maybe it¡¯s some primal wolf instinct deep inside of me. Either way, I somehow know that the wolf boys are giving up. Justin gathers whatever strength he has left and strides towards the wolf boys. When he is standing among them, he tips his bloody head back a lets out a howl that echoes through the whole forest. One by one, the wolf boys throw their heads back and join him. And so do I. Chapter 28: Is this the End? I get grounded for a million years. No parole. No time off for good behavior. Dad grumbled that I¡¯d be lucky to even touch an iPhone next Christmas, much less get a new one. Can¡¯t really blame the guy. He caught me last night sneaking back into the house at 10:00 pm, wearing boy stuff. Justin has bags of spare clothes stashed all over the city in case he rips his when he turns. Pretty smart. Too bad wearing oversized Levis and a t-shirt wasn¡¯t a good look. I made up some lame story about hanging out with some friends at the park and falling in some mud¡ªhaving to borrow a brother¡¯s clothes. Blah. Blah. Blah. Sheriff Dad eyed me all suspicious like. It was his job to sniff out lies. Like I said, I can¡¯t blame the guy for locking me up. So I spend the rest of the weekend in my room, reading manga in bed with Bizbee rolled up by my feet. Honestly, it feels like heaven. Since the Sunflower Troop hasn¡¯t com back early, I guess Emily and Sarah didn¡¯t say anything about their wolf encounter. Probably thought no one would believe them. It¡¯s 6:00 pm before my new-and-improved ears pick up the sound of Mom¡¯s jeep rumbling up the street. Part of me wants to sprint to the front door to wait for them. But that would look weird, so I wait in my room, pretending to re-read Chainsaw Man #6. When the front door finally squeals open, Bizbee jumps off my bed and rushes to greet them. Lots of tail wagging and sniffing going on. Mom and Dad mumble to each other. They¡¯re trying to talk low, but I hear every word. It¡¯s all about me, and it¡¯s not good. Mom passes by my room, gripping her backpack. She gives me a tired, sad look. ¡°I¡¯m disappointed by the decisions you¡¯ve been making lately.¡± A very mom thing to say. I look down at my bare feet, trying to put on a sad face. But I can¡¯t help but smile. I¡¯m so glad she¡¯s alive to be disappointed in me. ¡°Sorry mom.¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to have a conversation about what went on with you this weekend, but right now I¡¯m too damn exhausted. So, it¡¯ll have to wait until morning. I know mom is serious because she never uses the word damn, at least not to us girls. I want to leap off the bed and tackle her with a hug. But I resist the urge. We¡¯ve already had one awkward hug moment recently, and I don¡¯t want to make her any more suspicious than she already is. So instead, I tell mom that I love her. ¡°Love you too, Kat,¡± mom says, but there is a sigh to her voice. She shuffles off to the laundry room with her backpack full of camp clothes. The whole pack has that smokey campfire scent. I can still smell it when she¡¯s on the other side of the house, dumping her jeans, T-shirts, and socks into the washing machine. I can smell the smoke on Emily too. She has already taken off her sneakers and pads down the hall in dirty socks, towards my room. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Hey Em!¡± My voice is way too cheerful for a kid who just got grounded. Why did I say it like that? Emily just hangs in the doorway of my room, unable to look me in the eye. ¡°Kat¡­,¡± she says, staring down at her socks. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± She doesn¡¯t know what to say. It¡¯s all too much, and I get it. What¡¯s there to say when your sister has werewolf powers? So instead, Emily dashes into my room and hugs the stuffing out of me. Without a doubt, it¡¯s the longest, fiercest hug we¡¯ve ever had. Eventually, she slips free and wanders out of my room. Her voice reaches me from the hallway. ¡°You better not have farted on my hairbrushes.¡± *** My eyes snap open in the middle of the night. Right away, I notice my stuffed kangaroo is sitting slumped on a bookshelf instead of cuddling with me in bed. I must¡¯ve forgotten to grab her before falling asleep. Which is strange, because I never forget Miss Hoppy. But the missing kangaroo isn¡¯t what woke me up. I heard something. No, that isn¡¯t right. I sensed something. My heart speeds up and I spring out of bed. After everything I¡¯ve been through, I expect to see a pack of snarling wolves in my room. But there¡¯s only my pup, Bizbee. She must have sensed the same thing I had, because Biz is already at my window, pushing aside the curtain with that wet nose of hers. ¡°What is it girl?¡± Something outside. It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve heard ¡°speak¡± to me since the bacon incident. That time, I totally freaked out. This time I find her voice strangely comforting. Bizbee isn¡¯t growling and her fur isn¡¯t all up and spikey, so I¡¯m guessing there¡¯s no danger nearby. I slide up beside her and peek out the curtains. A figure stands out beyond the yard, right at the edge of the tree line. My heart stops cold and my breath catches in my chest. For a moment, I believe I¡¯m somehow seeing Killer Paw, back from the dead to stalk me again. Then I realize it¡¯s Justin and I breathe easy again. Justin waves to me, but doesn¡¯t come to my window. He wants to make sure I see him. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. I wave back and watch him silently slip into the trees, swallowed up by the dark woods. I never asked to be a werewolf. Never asked for the fur and pain and gnawing meat cravings. My life would be a whole lot simpler if I¡¯d never turned. So many questions bounce around my head. What will I do next time there¡¯s a full moon? Will I stay young forever like Justin? Can I ever break the curse? I don¡¯t know the answers. But having a friend out there, watching me almost makes up for all the chaos and fear. Later, that thought lingers in my brain as I drift off to sleep, my dog curled up at the foot of my warm bed. *** WARNING! COLLAPSED MINE! Rangers from the forest service had posted the sign then blocked off the area with yellow caution tape. To be honest, they thought this entrance had been sealed up years ago. An engineer from Flagstaff was coming out in a few weeks to make sure the ground was stable. Until then, the yellow tape would have to do. But nature had other ideas. A gust of wind had broken the tape, and now it flapped in the midnight breeze like a long birthday streamer. Beneath the streamer, a weak tremor shakes the ground. So weak that even if there were witnesses to the event, they probably wouldn¡¯t notice it happening. Likely, they wouldn¡¯t notice the shifting rocks either. Slowly at first, then faster, until stones tumble down the slope of the collapsed mine, colliding into each other with a ¡°Clack¡­ Clack¡­ Clack¡­¡± Then, with an eruption of dirt, a hand appears. It bursts out of the ground, fingers clawing at the air as if it were a mortal enemy. Another hand breaks free of the ground and together they scratch and dig until the earth opens up and a man scrambles free. No, not a man. A teenager, covered from head to bare feet in dirt. Killer Paw brushes his dust covered hair out of his face. His bones crack as he stands tall and arches his back. The night is moonless, but he howls anyway. THE END?