Page 7

C laws.

Huge, jagged claws pierce through Chase’s back, punching out his chest right below his lungs. The sound is wet. Sickening.

The thing behind him—the monster—lifts him effortlessly, its claws still embedded in his body like lethal hooks.

I’m paralyzed, my scream caught in my throat as his eyes widen in shock… and pain. Blood splashes onto my face, hot and sticky, dripping down onto my bare chest.

“Ch—Chase!” I choke, reaching for him, but he doesn’t respond. The only sound leaving his throat is gurgling. Frozen in place, I watch as his eyes lose the light.

As tears stream down my face, my mind refuses to accept what I’m seeing, clinging to the faint hope that this isn’t real. I can’t move, can’t breathe, as it twists its wrist and drags its claws downward, splitting Chase open like a piece of meat at the butcher’s.

More thick blood sprays everywhere, painting the snow and water a vivid crimson.

His body slumps, lifeless, as the creature rips him in half.

His insides spill out into the water, intestines and organs bobbing like grotesque buoys around me.

The steam rising from the hot tub mixes with the metallic tang of blood, and all I can do is scream.

The sound is unrecognizable as mine, and it seems to catch the creature’s full attention.

Its head snaps toward me, its eyes like two black coals against the snow-white fur, making its slanted eye sockets appear hollow.

Its face is darker and much less furry than the rest of him, nearly hairless, revealing skull-like features—protruding browbone, wide, flat nostrils, and a slight underbite exposing huge, razor-sharp bottom fangs.

The monster stands over eight feet tall, and the horns curling from its temples give it a nightmarish, almost demonic silhouette.

It drops Chase’s remains unceremoniously, its cold, unblinking eyes locking onto mine like a predator sizing up its prey. Then, as if savoring its kill—or showing off in front of me—it crouches over my boyfriend’s lifeless body, claws digging into the gory mess of his torso.

With a guttural snarl, it crushes his ribcage in its fist, blood and viscera dripping from its claws. There’s a dreadful squelch as it rips out his heart, still nestled in his chest, and lifts it to its wide mouth.

Nausea roils through me, but what happens next is too repulsive for my body to even find the strength to hurl.

The creature rises to its full height, its white fur stained crimson, relishing the heart in a couple of deliberate, messy bites as though it’s the world’s greatest delicacy. Blood spills from its thin lips, steaming in the icy air.

The roar that follows shakes the ground and sends a jolt of terror down my spine, rattling me to the core. That’s when instinct takes over. My body feels like it’s been drained of blood together with Chase, but something visceral—some fundamental human will to live—kicks in, forcing me to move.

I don’t think, I run.

Scrambling out of the hot tub, I slip on the bloody snow, my bare feet stinging against the ice, not moving fast enough. Without looking back, my hands find the patio door, yanking it open as I tumble inside. I slam it shut, twisting the lock with trembling fingers, and stumble back.

For a moment, there’s only my pulse thundering in my ears, accompanied by the faint dripping of blood and water from my body.

Chase… Oh, my Chase…

Slowly, the muffled sound of music seeps into my awareness, growing louder and louder. Laughter. Voices. They’re all still in the living room, drinking and joking, completely oblivious. The absurdity of it makes me want to scream. No wonder they didn’t hear a thing.

An obnoxious whistle pierces through the haze, and my head involuntarily turns toward the sound.

Derek’s compliment comes next, and I watch his lips moving in slow motion, “Hey, Emma, nice rack!”

The room spins around me, my vision tunnels, as I experience an out-of-body experience.

The reasonable part of me recognizes this as shock.

Perhaps my brain is protecting itself from the weight of grief.

And yet, I can’t stop it. I feel like a ghost, trapped between worlds, observing them from a distance, unable to move, to speak, to feel.

“Why are you staring?!” Mia snaps at him, then turns her anger on me. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Put some clothes on!” Her words end in a drunken hiccup.

Vicky glances up from a bottle of beer in hand. “Yeah. What the hell, Emma? Did you and Chase—” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she takes me in.

I look down at myself. Blood trickles from my hair, down my face, over my naked chest. It pools on the floor by my feet, mixing with water. My wet bikini bottoms cling to me uselessly, barely covering anything.

I must look like Carrie at prom… with my tits out.

“Oh my God,” Vicky gasps, standing up so quickly she nearly spills her drink. She cuts off the music and approaches, taking off her designer pullover. “Em, what happened?” she asks, helping me squeeze it over my head and arms when my trembling hands prove useless .

I open my mouth, but a lump in my throat is impossible to overcome.

“Well, clearly , my boy just took her V-card,” Jay jokes, his slurring voice heavily intoxicated.

They all are, which explains a lack of awareness at the sight of blood. I know they see it, they even acknowledge it, but it’s not clicking.

Oh, God… the blood. There was so much fucking blood… You never fully comprehend how much blood is in a human body until you see it spilling out.

“Where’s Chase?” Mia asks, losing her pout as her expression softens into concern. But her eyes are muddy, and she’s about five minutes from passing out.

I try to speak, but my voice won’t come. All I can see is Chase—his blood, his body, that thing. My stomach revolts, and I gag.

“Geez!” Vicky winces but doesn’t let go of me. “Just sit down, okay? How much did you drink?”

I remain immobilized, numb inside.

“Emma, you need to say something!” Her voice sharpens, more demanding now.

“He’s… gone ,” the words finally escape me, foreign on my tongue, as if they don’t even belong to me. “It… got him.”

But they don’t believe me.

“Nice try,” Derek grumbles, raising a beer in a mock salute. “You two aren’t scaring us with some lame-ass prank. You’ve been acting sus since the moose thing.”

“It’s true,” I whisper, my voice cracking, but my words are drowned out by their laughter. They don’t see fresh tears overflowing my eyes, the way I’m shaking, the way my knees buckle as I collapse onto the floor.

Vicky kneels beside me, her warm hands on my shoulders, her stare drilling into me. “Emma, calm down. What’s going on?”

My fingers dig into her arms as I finally manage to whisper, “Something’s out there. It killed him. It… it killed Chase.”

Her expression shifts, annoyance melting into fear as her hazel eyes widen. Is she putting the puzzle pieces together?

Are the town legends real?

Jay slams his beer down on the coffee table, the bottles rattling from the impact. He stands, towering and steady despite the alcohol coursing through his veins. “Alright, enough of this bullshit.”

He strides across the room toward the patio door.

“Jay, no,” I croak, scrambling to my feet. My legs are weak, barely able to hold me up, but I stagger toward him, desperate to stop him.

He waves me off, his expression hard, as he bypasses me with ease. “Look, there he is!” he shouts, pressing his face to the frosted glass.

I follow his gaze from the distance. Chase—or what’s left of him—lies in the snow, perfectly in view, illuminated by the fairy lights. That thing is smart—it carefully placed him there, hiding his wounds, as bait to lure us out.

Or to lure me out.

“You can’t! He’s—” My voice breaks as the memory of Chase’s insides hitting the water with big splashes flashes through my mind. “Jay, please. Don’t go out there.”

“Emma, you’re freaked out, I get it. But Chase probably slipped or something.” Jay chuckles, the sound low and cocky, as grabs his jacket from the back of the couch. “Relax. I’ll be fine. Have you seen me? Whatever’s out there, it’s not gonna mess with this hunk of meat.”

“You don’t understand,” I plead, grabbing his flexing arm. My hands shake as I look up at him. “It’s not— It’s not human, Jay. Please, don’t go. It isn’t safe out there.”

Derek rolls his eyes from the couch, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, come on, Emma. Let it go already.”

Jay shrugs me off gently but firmly, heading for the door. “I’ll check it out and be back in two minutes. Tops.”

Vicky stares at him, her face pale. “Jay, maybe just… don’t? If Emma’s this scared—”

“I’ll be fine,” he says again, flashing her a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Besides, if Chase is hurt, someone’s gotta help him. He might have a concussion, I’ve seen it on the field.”

The door slides open with a creak, icy air rushing in like death’s breath. I tug nervously at my wet, sticky hair, watching helplessly as Jay steps out into the night. The sound of the door shutting feels like a coffin lid closing.

The room falls silent except for the crackling of the fireplace. No one speaks, their earlier drunken bravado evaporating as tension coils around us.

I press my face to the window, my uneven breath fogging the glass as I watch Jay disappear into the snow. Before he reaches Chase, the fairy lights flicker, then cut off completely, and that sinking feeling settles in my gut like a rock.

“Jay!” I call, my voice muffled by the pane. He doesn’t turn back. I can’t even make out his silhouette in the dark anymore. The wind howls, rattling the windows, and I swear I hear something else beneath it. A low, guttural sound, almost like breathing.

Seconds stretch into eternity, and none of us dares to move.

“He’s fine,” Derek says, trying to sound reassuring, but even he doesn’t sound convinced.

Then it happens.

A scream.

Not Jay’s usual confident yell, but something raw, terrified. It rips through the night, making my blood run cold.

“Baby!” Vicky shouts, bolting to the door, but I grab her wrist to stop her from vanishing into the darkness, too.

We all freeze, staring ahead.

The silence draws out before we hear the crunch of bones breaking. Followed by more cries of pain. Wet, tearing sounds, like meat being ripped from a carcass, come next. Jay’s screams fade into gurgles, then nothing.

Vicky backs away, her hands covering her mouth. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

I can’t look away. Through the frosted glass, I catch a fleeting glimpse of the enormous form of the creature—a shadow hunched over Jay’s body, its clawed hands moving with horrific precision as it tears him apart, its shoulders heaving as it feasts.

The obscene smacking and chewing noises grow louder, more horrifying.

There’s no further screaming or any signs of life from Jay.

Mia starts to sob, breaking down as she clutches Derek. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be real.”

I stumble away from the window, my knees hitting the floor as bile rises in my throat. My mind reels, unable to process what I just saw—or heard.

The eating sounds stop.

For a moment, the only thing I can hear is my own ragged breathing.

And then something hits the spot where I was just standing.

There’s a wet, bloody spot on the glass after the impact.

I crane my neck to get a better look, and I notice Jay’s head resting in the snow, just below the window.

His lifeless eyes are wide with disbelief, staring straight at me.

His mouth hangs open, frozen mid-scream, blood still dripping from his lips and pooling beneath what’s left of his neck.

All I can think of is how alive he looked just seconds ago.

I shriek, which fuels a chain reaction as the rest follows, making a whole lot of noise. We scatter around like frightened pigs at the slaughterhouse, panic taking over as we bolt for safety.

Derek stands rooted to the spot, his face pale and blank, as if his mind can’t process what’s happening. “What the fuck... What the fuck!” he keeps muttering, his beer slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor .

Mia lets out a piercing scream, backing away so fast she slips on the spill and collapses in a heap, cutting herself on the broken glass and sobbing uncontrollably. “We’re going to die! We’re all going to die!” she wails, clawing at Derek’s leg like it might anchor her to reality.

Vicky grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin as she yanks me toward the hallway. “Come on, Emma! We have to move! Now!” Her voice is sharp and hysterical but somehow keeps me tethered to action.

“Where do we go?” I rasp, barely recognizing my own voice over the pounding in my ears.

“I don’t know!” Vicky snaps, dragging me away from the windows as the heavy footsteps on the patio door reverberate through the cabin.

But there’s nowhere to hide. There’s no time. It’s already here.

The creature’s heavy body slams against the sliding door, and the entire cabin goes silent.