I wouldn't even have gone.
The graduation bonfire was loud, crowded, and teeming with intoxicated individuals like the apocalypse would arrive soon.
I hovered around the perimeter, nursing a lukewarm soda and attempting to calculate how long I could hold on.
And then I look towards his direction.
Lucien.
He didn't fit there, never did. When the other men were yowling and yelling and grandstanding, Lucien watched. Quietly. Beautiful sharp-eyed, in a way that turned your insides.
When I felt his gaze on the field, it was like I was noticed for the first time.
"You okay?" he asked, pushing a lock of hair back behind my ear with his hand when we were alone.
"I'm fine." I lied. "Just needed some air."
We both just stood there in silence for a second too long.
He reached his hand out towards mine.
"I have to tell you something," he said.
His hand was warm. Too warm.
I faced him. "You're sweating."
"I know." He looked upwards at the sky. "Full Moon."
"Really?" I joked, smiling. "You're a werewolf or something?
He didn't smile.
Not even a hint of humour.
I was surprised a bit.
"Lucien?"
He gripped his hold on my wrist—not hard, but firmly.
"Don't look at me," he grunted, his voice strained.
"What."
He leaned back, took a step back, and had his hands planted on his chest as if he couldn't breathe.
"Lucien!"
He dropped to one knee, coughing for breath. Something bubbled out of his throat—low, bestial, Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo!
I came to reach him.
"Don't touch me!" he growled.
That was not his voice.
My hand paused halfway.
Then I watched his skin crinkle.
Like something crawled under.
Bones cracked. Screamed. Aaa! Aaa! Aaa!.
He wasn't turning into something—he was being pulled out of himself.
Claws ripped through his fingers. The spine warped, then snapped back into place. His eyes, those eyes—went yellow.
I couldn't move. Couldn't get away. Couldn't even blink. Just stand there and watch the boy I love turn into something else.
Into a monster.
I had to scream.
I didn't.
I stood there like a fool, immobile, as the boy I believed I had known pounded into the air like he was drowning in his own body.
He collapsed, palms—no, paws—hitting the lawn. His breathing tore in ragged, shallow gasps as each one burned.
His back curved uncomfortably, tearing the fabric of his shirt and showing fur and muscle tearing its way through underneath.
I shivered
Again.
My heel caught on a root and I nearly fell.
"Lucien." I breathed.
He raised his head.
That was not his face now.
Still oval as him, in some way, as though his soul was caged behind that golden eye—but all the rest was not.
Elongated snout.
Foam at the corner of his mouth.
Teeth that belonged to no sort of human being whatsoever.
And then he growled. Aww! Aww! Aww!.
Low. Deep. Not a warning—a threat.
"Lucien, I'm over here," I panted, shaking. "Please. I don't know what is happening, but you have to fight this."
Growled more loudly. Moved closer.
Again.
He was bigger than he used to be. Bigger. Harder and bigger, like something raised to kill.
I backed away again, not wanting to stumble, not wanting to cry. My heart was pounding too hard to keep pace.
Attacked.
Ran around and around.
Branches tore at my sleeves as I ripped through the underbrush. I had no idea where I was going—just away. I could hear him behind me, tearing through the trees like a tornado.
My legs screamed. My side howled. But I didn't slow down.
"HELP!" I shouted into the darkness.
No answer.
Of course not. No one else came this way. We picked this spot deliberately—away from the noise.
From everyone.
Mistake.
I glanced over my shoulder, idiotically, and my foot got trapped in a gap in the ground. I fell hard. The wind was knocked out of me. My ankle twisted under me.
And then. Nothing.
No footsteps.
No snarl.
Just my panting and the beat of my heart against the walls of my head.
I rolled onto my back and he was over me.
Aghast mouth, fangs glinting in the moon's light.
I tried to step back, but my foot screamed in pain.
"Lucien," I gasped, "Please. Don't. Don't."
For a moment—just one—his head turned. As if he recognized my voice.
He moved closer.
"Lucien, it's me. It's Mia."
My voice disintegrated halfway through saying my name.
"I'm right here," I told him. "Remember? The field. The way you kissed my wrist when you thought nobody was watching. That was real. We were real. So if there's even a piece of you in there—please come back."
He hesitated.
His claws retracted.
I breathed.
His ears twitched. His chest heaved. Something shifted in his stance. He looked lost.
And then—snap.
A voice shouted out in the distance. A name shouted out. The flash of a flashlight sliced through the forest like a beam of light from a lighthouse in a fog.
Lucien's head snapped around in that direction.
Then, silently, he turned and vanished into the forest at lightning speed.
Gone like a puff of smoke.
I didn't budge for a while.
I just lay there, looking up into the black night sky through an impenetrable knot of arms. My lungs were struggling to remember how to breathe. My heart wasn't yet at rest.
It wasn't happening.
It couldn't be happening.
Lucien didn't just. Change. He didn't tear himself away from his own body. He didn't grow teeth like those. Or have eyes that shone like gold.
And still, he did.
And now he was gone.
I groaned into a sitting position. I pain all over. Filth clung to me. My ankle thudded. I had blood in my mouth, but I had no idea if it was mine or—
"Noah."
I uttered the name involuntarily.
I stood up from the ground, leaning on the trunk of a tree, and limped back through the trees. Every branch was hiding something. Every gust curled my stomach.
But I had to find him.
My gut dropped when I entered the clearing.
Noah was still there, lying just where he'd fallen.
His hoodie is stained red. His eyes half-closed.
I dropped down next to him. "No, no, no—"
He was alive.
Barely.
"Oh my God, just hold on, Noah, you're gonna—" I wildly looked for my phone, shaking hands, fumbling fingers over the cracked screen. "You're gonna be okay, I swear."
He moaned. Low. More like a whine—or, maybe, a whisper.
"I'm here," I said. "I'm not leaving. Help is on the way. You're okay."
But even as I was speaking, I didn't trust the words to be true.
I looked at the gashes on his arms and chest. Too deep. Too wide. No one lasted that. Not without—
Without something unnatural.
And that's when it registered.
Lucien did this.
Lucien, the boy who walks me home. Who kisses my wrist like something is so special. Who tells me that I make him feel safe?
He did this.
To me. To Noah.
I covered my hands over my mouth and gazed into the trees, hoping—waiting—he'd come back.
He didn't.
He never did.
This could be lifetime nightmare
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I slammed my hand on the alarm clock until it would shut up.
5:45 A.M.
I was flat on my back staring at the ceiling, letting the silence slip in once more. I lay there for a moment or two without moving.
And then sat up, thrashed my legs over the edge of the bed—and groaned.
The hurt never really passes.
I slowly stood up and limped over to the bathroom. The icy tile beneath my feet startled me a bit, but not enough that it jolted me out of the fog in my heart.
I glimpsed myself and did not even recognize the stranger. Whitish color. Purple circles around my eyes. Hair mussed from another night of knotted sheets and broken dreams.
I turned to the side and lifted my shirt.
The scar stayed.
Four spindly lines on my ribcage. Faded, but impossible to remove.
Ten years, and I was still having nightmares.
Ten years, and I had yet to say his name out loud since then.
Lucas.
I said it now, to the mirror.
It felt like glass breaking in my throat.
I didn't know if he was alive. I didn't know what he'd turned into. But I knew what I'd turned into—tired. Distant. Good at pretending I was okay.
I splashed water across my face, tied my hair into a ponytail, and produced a smile that didn't even come up to my eyes.
It was a new business. A new town. A new start.
No one there knew me. No one knew me bloody or screaming in the woods. Here, I could simply be Mia—the quiet, competent, slightly-lost-in-her-mind-about-expecting-personal-space type.
That was all I needed. I didn't need friends. I needed space.
I picked up my bag and coat and exited, shutting the apartment door behind me.
One in.
Another out.
No monsters today.
Just a meeting with the senior staff of the new company.
And if I was lucky?
No one would question what the scars are.