Chapter Text
Ryan, all things considered, was doing great. He was being a functioning adult. Definitely.
He had graduated and found a place of his own to call home, or at least as ‘homely’ as a studio apartment a good two hours away from the nearest city could be. It was run down, the plumbing was often clogged, and his wifi cut out every few days which was incredibly annoying when he was editing a document for his boss – but he took what he could get. After the whole camp ordeal, Ryan was lucky to consider himself alive, so a shitty home to set up shop was pretty close to a best-case scenario.
After finally getting his degree, Ryan had started working for an online-based company not too long after. This meant that he was free to work remote, to his introverted delight, and was free to move pretty much wherever he wanted. He considered moving back with his sister and grandparents, but she insisted that the space would do him some good, so instead he searched for the cheapest place that would take him and got the hell out of that stuffy campus accommodation.
The moon was high in the sky by the time Ryan looked up from his laptop that night, noting the full moon staring back at him. The shiver that involuntarily went through him was unfortunately expected, he could never really look at a full moon the same after… well… He sighed, trying to turn his attention back to the animation that stared back at him, one that he had been working on fixing up for his employer. It was a cute little romance story, a meet-cute of a ghost and a ghost hunter falling in love during a haunt gone wrong. Ryan thought it was sweet, he had even been part of the team that vouched for the main characters to both be females. He thought it added a bit of originality to the story, and totally not because he knew he could enjoy it more if it was a more inclusive story and not your basic heterosexual bullshit.
A small gust of wind blowing in from the open window brought Ryan back to reality, sighing before he closed his laptop to abandon the work he knew he was never going to get done. Not tonight. What he needed was a good podcast to lose himself in and a hot drink to sip at, hopefully to help him forget about what kind of night it was.
Another downside to his new place was how close it was to the quarry, the summer camp that haunted him every night. It wasn’t planned, and Ryan certainly didn’t want it to be so, but he’d only realised upon signing the lease that the camp was only a 30-minute drive if he knew where he was going. It sucked, knowing how if he wanted, Ryan was only a late-night drive away from that place, but there was nothing that could be done. The summer camp had obviously closed down after that summer, even with most of the Hacketts still alive, Chris didn’t make it and none of the others were very keen on sticking around. He couldn’t blame them of course and was thankful that he at least got to say a final goodbye to Caleb that night before they all packed up and moved states.
Ryan gave his forearm a scratch as he got up from his desk and made his way over to the kitchen, turning on the kettle to make himself some tea. He sighed, taking out his phone as he waited for the water to boil. He wasn’t much of a social media person, but he’d found the only way to keep an eye on… ‘things’ was to scroll through the anonymous Instagram account he had made a while back. Opening up the app, he couldn’t help but smirk at what greeted him.
Dylan’s latest post was of him at a local café, grinning from ear to ear as he held up a small cake with the numbers ‘23rd’ written in small, red icing. Beside him was a girl Ryan recognised as Kaitlyn, doing a peace sign to the camera. ‘Spending this special day with this special girl. She claims my hair is already turning gray’ was written in the caption, adorned with a few comments from his other friends wishing him all their love on his birthday. Ryan smirked, but didn’t like the picture. He couldn’t risk drawing attention to his account and risking Dylan possibly noticing this rando following him. It wasn’t only his old ‘friend’ that Ryan was secretly following, another scroll led him to a few posts from Emma, who continued to rule her ‘Emma nation’ with an iron fist and a strong following. Even Abi had started to show her face online, posting a few pictures of recent tattoos she had designed and done for some clients of hers. Ryan smiled as he took the time to look through all the profiles of his old colleagues, watching them live their lives despite everything. It was bittersweet, knowing how with one click Ryan could bring them all back into his life, and yet it always resulted in him locking his phone and shoving it back in his pocket. At first it was simply an act of cowardness on his part, but now he just used the excuse that it would be far too awkward to reach out now, after all these years. There would be questions, judgement, conversations that Ryan was not ready to have. So instead, he hid in the shadows, content with watching his friends from behind a screen.
With another sigh, he reached up to scratch his arm again before noticing the kettle had finished boiling. He took it off its stand and poured himself a cup, preparing his nightly drink with practiced ease. Once he was done, Ryan made his way back to his desk and sat atop the windowsill, waiting for the tea to cool as he stared out the window at the mediocre sight of the trees in the distance past the line of old apartment blocks, moon still high in the sky.
Maybe in another life, Ryan would have noticed how late it was getting and head to bed earlier than he normally did. Maybe he would close the curtains and lie in bed and live the rest of that night in peace.
But this Ryan chose not to notice. This Ryan stayed at the window, staring off into the night sky.
That was why this Ryan noticed the blur of a creature outside his apartment, rushing past his street and into the dark treeline of the forest.
It took the man a few minutes to be able to move again after his brain registered what it had just seen, heart beating loudly out of his chest as his veins were shot with a rush of adrenaline. No… Fuck no, that can’t have been… surely not… Slowly, Ryan put down the still steaming cup of tea on the side of his desk, eyes never once leaving the last place he had spotted the creature vanish. His breathing had grown heavy, trying to keep himself from not having a heart attack right there on the spot. Ryan stared at that treeline for as long as he could keep his eyes open, hoping for some kind of reasonable answer to just pop out and let his mind rest. It didn’t make any sense, and yet there was equally no reason why it couldn’t be possible. If that was- if what Ryan had seen was what he thought he had just seen, then did that mean there was another? Another Silas, another family fighting that god-awful curse to be free- another defenceless summer camp fending for their lives?
No, they killed the only werewolf that could have caused this. Silas was dead, god rest the boy’s soul, and everyone had been cured. This time it really must have been a bear, a really fast, thin bear…
Then he heard it. A single howl of a hungry wolf, yelling to the moon in the dead of night. There was no other way of interpreting the sound that finally broke Ryan’s resolve as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor. Clutching his chest with one hand, his other tried to block out that horrifying noise that had been haunting his nightmares for years, that singular howl confirming all the fears running through his head over the last few minutes. He started to sob, silently pleading for the creature to stop, to let him live in peace. Because he knew what that meant, if there was another curse, Ryan knew all too well what he knew he didn’t have the heart not to do.
What felt like hours finally passed and the sound of the wolf’s howl slowly faded back into the night, leaving Ryan to fight off his panic attack on the floor of his apartment. Deep breaths in and out was all that was keeping Ryan from going full on insane, his other hand now joining its other half clutching at his chest as he felt his heart try not to give out under the stress.
“Not again. I can’t do this again.” He finally spoke, his voice hoarse from holding back his screams and sobs of terror. Ryan slowly reached up to the edge of his desk, forcing himself back onto his feet with the little resolve he had left, collapsing onto the chair. He furiously wiped the tears out of his eyes and face, continuing to breathe slow and steady like he would do with his sister in times of stress. In, hold, out… In, hold, out… He found the irony in not being able to follow his own advice a little amusing, crying out a small laugh of despair as his heart rate slowly returned to a semi normal rhythm, giving Ryan enough peace to take another look out of the window. Nothing had changed as far as he could see, the same boring view greeted him, and yet Ryan was too afraid to look away now that he knew. He knew something was horribly wrong. Scratching at his arm, he took a shaky breath and stood up, pacing the floor around his bed.
He couldn’t call the Hacketts. He couldn’t, they’d been through enough. Ryan couldn’t bring himself to involve them in even more werewolf bullshit that probably had nothing to do with them. No, this was surely something different, something new. Which made it dangerous. Taking a quick pitstop at his laptop, he searched frantically for anything that would suggest this was an issue already being taken care of by the police, local exterminators, reporters- anything. But no, there was nothing. If there was anything that could answer Ryan’s questions, they would be swallowed completely by the reports on the last Hackett Quarry disaster which was still fascinating paranormal investigators and supernatural enthusiasts even to this day. There was nothing on the web that suggested anything new was going on.
“Fuck.” Ryan shoved himself away from the laptop and ran his hands over his head, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. He knew his options were slowly limiting themselves to the one thing he knew was inevitable, something he was desperately trying to avoid. In a moment of weakness, Ryan took out his phone. He could try and contact the old counsellors, tell them he was sorry for his radio silence all those years but now he needed their help, because their worst nightmares have returned and Ryan was too much of a pussy to go in alone. But as soon as he opened the app, the picture of Dylan’s smiling face greeted him once again. A man he refused to admit still made his stomach turn with excited butterflies whenever he saw him, sending him back into his teenage years of deeply buried issues and phobia of himself. Dylan was always there, smiling, joking, refusing to let Ryan drown himself in his feelings that summer. Ryan’s gaze focused on the man’s left arm, the lack of limb replaced by a metal prosthetic, a limb that Ryan was forced to take that night staring him in the face. That familiar guilt began to crawl up his spine, the memory of Dylan’s screams ringing in his ears.
“…What am I doing?” Ryan closed the app with an audible click from his phone, throwing it onto the bed to stop himself from entertaining that idea any longer. No way, he was leaving them out of this. They deserved that much, after everything that happened, to live in ignorance- in peace. Ryan refused to be the one to drag them back into this hell.
That left him with only one option. Ryan was going to have to fix this on his own.
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If anyone else was in Ryan’s position, they probably would have left this whole situation alone. Claimed it ‘wasn’t their problem’ in some form of deniability. Ryan however, the more he thought about it, the less he was willing to let this go. He felt a connection to Hackett’s quarry, more so than the others, and a part of him felt himself being called to the old summer camp despite the horrors that happened that summer. It was obvious the only person that was willing to fix this was Ryan.
Despite all of that, Ryan found himself seriously start to question what he was doing once his journey had started and he was already deep enough into the woods that if he got caught by a werewolf out here, he probably wouldn’t be found by the authorities for a long time. Then again, it would take them a while to realise he was even missing in the first place, and the thought that his sister would probably be the first to notice made his stomach turn.
Ryan had barely any time to pack his backpack full of supplies before his feet were throwing his body towards the quarry, like a puppet on a string. He’d grabbed the basics – rope, torches, batteries etc. After that summer, he always found himself knowing exactly what to grab in an emergency situation, a talent that was finally coming in handy. He’d also grabbed as much silver as he could find around his apartment and stuffed a speaker in his bag in case of emergencies. Right now, he was clutching a can of bear spray in one hand, a torch in the other as he made his way through the woods. Mentally going over every weakness and piece of information he could remember from Laura and the Hacketts, Ryan ventured further and further into the darkness, trying his best to keep his heartbeat under control and focus his senses on picking up any movement or sound from around him in case of an ambush.
Ryan didn’t really have a plan, not a proper one anyway. He was following where his heart was telling him to go: Hackett’s quarry. If there was anywhere to start, it would be there. If there was another group in danger, he could at least give them the run down on how to survive and hopefully save a couple of lives. Ryan didn’t exactly carry a gun on him, especially not one loaded with silver shells, so he hoped the cabins won’t have been completely ransacked before the camp was deserted. It was his only shot at stopping this problem before it got out of hand, and if he got killed in the process? Well… at least he’d go down trying to make something of his life.
“That’s dark Ryan,” he thought aloud, clutching the torch tightly as he continued down a route he knew surprisingly well. The itch on his forearm was starting to flare up again, right where Laura had bit him that summer, but he ignored it. The therapist he briefly saw told him it was lightly a form of phantom pain from the incident, his body making sure he didn’t forget, which was kind of fucked up, but whatever.
The sudden crack of a tree branch broke Ryan out of his thoughts as his heart dropped, spinning round and shining a torch in the direction of the sound. Nothing. He didn’t dare move until he was sure he’d simply jumped to conclusions. A minute went by, Ryan’s gaze never once dropping as he readied himself with the spray in hand. Nothing came. With a sigh, Ryan lowered his torch and continued down the path he didn’t even recognise. This was a bad idea, this was a horrible idea, what the fuck was he doing? Why did he think he could do this on his own?
Ryan was just about ready to abandon this whole mission when he felt it. Breath on the back of his neck. Calm and heavy.
“You.”
The man froze, suddenly unable to move his body. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight, he was just frozen there as he held his breath hoping he had misheard.
“You were there.”
Nope. Didn’t mishear.
Ryan spun around, throwing his hand in front of him ready to attack. And yet he found no one. All that greeted him was an empty, quiet forest. Despite what his eyes were telling him, he knew what he had heard. A woman’s voice, right in his ear, a cold whisper that sent shivers down his spine.
“You did nothing.”
“FUCK!” Ryan spun again, torchlight flying around as he tried to find the source of the voice, once again meeting nothing but darkness. He was starting to panic now, he knew that voice. He’d heard it so often in his dreams, taunting him with his actions, showing him endless possibilities from that night. He’d seen all his friends die in horrible ways, over and over again. A relentless nightmare. It always felt so real, every scream and tear Ryan felt, it followed him through till the morning when he woke, covered in sweat and a deep feeling of guilt in his gut.
“I warned you.”
The woman’s voice was starting to echo all around him now, surrounding the small clearing Ryan had found himself in. The man was panicking, hands covering his ears to block the voice despite it doing little to no good. His thoughts pleaded for her to stop, to let him go. He was trying to help; he was only trying to save everyone-
“I WARNED YOU!”
A growl broke out from the treeline behind Ryan, cutting through the woman’s screams like butter. Raising his gaze, Ryan didn’t need to see what was there to know he was utterly, truly fucked. He could feel the vibrations of the creature down to his core, his forearm screaming at him in an agony that went unnoticed. The man smelt it before he saw it, a wet dog smell that he knew all too well. He shakily took a step back, only resulting in encouraging the creature to take a step closer to him as it came out of the shadows.
An involuntary gasp left Ryan’s lips when he finally saw it, as if his brain had finally connected that this wasn’t a dream; that fucked up night wasn’t a figment of his imagination. There was the evidence, right there in front of him. A fucking werewolf, sharp teeth and bright yellow eyes that were burying a hole into him with just the gaze alone. There was no if, ands or buts about what he had seen earlier that night. Of course it had found him before he could even reach the quarry, he wasn’t covered in werewolf blood or making any effort to cover his scent, what was he thinking?
Taking another step back, Ryan dropped the torch and let it clatter to the floor, filling the clearing with light to illuminate the creature even further. That seems to stir it into action, having apparently grown bored of playing with its food. It was now or never; Ryan was not going down that easy. He threw up the can and sprayed the monster was as much force as it would let him, hitting it right in the face. Its roars of pain filled the air, urging Ryan to get the fuck out there. He let his feet lead the way as he ran back into the treeline and deeper into the forest, fumbling for the silver knife he had stashed in the side pocket of his backpack. It took not even a minute before he heard the creature recover, chasing after him with a speed unmatched to Ryan. He powered through, weaving his way through the trees with as much grace as possible. He snatched the dagger from its pocket and held it tightly, preparing himself to strike if he needed to.
Despite the utter terror that filled his heart, he knew that this werewolf was likely an innocent caught up in something they shouldn’t have, so he really didn’t want to have any more blood on his hands than he needed to. All he needed was to incapacitate it long enough to get away, get to the camp and hopefully find all the answers he needed. Simple.
Letting that thought spur him on, Ryan continued to push through his lack of stamina to escape the beast, which really should have killed him by now… why hadn’t it killed him?
Ryan risked a glance behind his shoulder, trying to spot the creature in the darkness he was leaving behind. It took him a second, but a glint of yellow just behind the trees gave him all the answers he needed. Unfortunately, Ryan’s lack of coordination didn’t extend to running blind, and his foot snagged an uprooted tree branch on the floor, sending the man to the ground. His head met the floor with too loud a thud and a cry from Ryan, his arm twisting at an awkward angle in a half attempt to lighten his fall. His head yelled at him to stay down, to not get up, but the logical side of him knew that if he stayed still for even a second too long, it would be his end. Instead, he glanced up, spotting the knife that had fallen from his grasp a few feet in front of him. Fuck.
Ryan reached out with his good hand, desperately hoping his limb could extend just a little further, but the creature got to him first. The man yelled as his leg was suddenly dragged backwards, throwing his body onto his back with his bag digging into his spine. He tried to thrash out of the werewolf’s grasp, flailing his arms around in the hopes of attaching himself to anything that could save him. The beast held on, tightening its grip on the boy’s leg, its claws digging painfully into his flesh. Ryan could feel the blood start to drip down his ankle, knowing that even if he did escape it’s hold now, there was no chance he would be running on that foot.
Suddenly, the creature dropped his limb and began to crawl on all fours above Ryan, its eyes digging into his skull with their gaze. The human was helpless, now too far away from his only available weapons to do anything to save himself. All he could do was stare up in horror as the creature looked down on him, a predator examining its caught prey. Any moment now he would experience in person the dreams that had been haunting him for years, the vicious and thoughtless killings of a werewolves who had nothing but their animal instincts of survival and the thrill of the hunt.
Ryan was smart, he knew there was nothing he could do as he stared into those cold, golden eyes. As those last few seconds dragged on, he couldn’t help but sob at how stupid he had been. What had caused him to think so illogically that coming out to ‘fix’ everyone on his own would result in success and not his brutal murder. He thought about his sister, her reaction when he would suddenly stop calling her without explanation. How she would go to his apartment only to find him not there and missing. Then how she would go looking for him, only to never find him again.
He thought about his friends, all the counsellors he had never bothered to stay in contact with, all the memories they were now sharing together that he had deprived himself of. He hoped they would never find out what happened to him, to leave his life as a mystery even to them. It would cause them less pain anyway.
He thought of Dylan. Of course he did. The one person that never left his mind, why wouldn’t he be the last thing he thought of. Of all the people he left behind that night, Dylan had hurt the most. Despite his never-ending cheer and jokes, he never understood what the man saw in Ryan that caused him to cling onto him like a leach all summer, and yet there wasn’t a second of iti he would change. He’d missed his chance at anything more than a flirty friendship when he ignored Dylan’s attempts to get his number at the end of camp, something he knew he would come to deeply regret. He hoped Dylan had found someone better, someone serious enough that could make him happy, something Ryan could never do.
As much as he wished to see the man again, Ryan hoped Dylan would never find his body.
…
Ryan kept his eyes shut, not wanting to know what the creature was waiting for. He was ready, he was prepared for the attack and the consequent fade from life… and yet there was nothing but heavy breathing and the occasion drop of slobber on his cheek. Ryan felt nothing.
A few more seconds passed before he dared to open his eyes again. Instead of a terrifying beast waiting to attack, he was met with an almost inquisitive expression on the wolf. It still was surrounding him, towering over him on all fours, but with a slight tilt of the head, and Ryan realised that it was not preparing an attack. It was… smelling him?
The beast’s sniffed the air a couple of times, tilting it’s head the opposite way like an intrigued dog. Ryan would have laughed had his heart not been beating out of his chest in terror. He was just plain confused now, unsure of what the werewolf was doing. Was it toying with him? Had these new breed of creatures gained more than just animalistic instinct enough to play with their food?
But just like that, the werewolf leapt off of Ryan, landing a few feet in front of him as it continued to stare, but with a much lesser frightening gaze than before. It gave the human room to finally breathe, sitting up suddenly on his elbows to examine the creature’s behaviour. It seemed to be waiting for Ryan to do something, it’s attention still fully on the mortal. However, it allowed Ryan to shift on the floor, hissing slightly as his injured ankle swept the dirty floor of the forest. The werewolf didn’t seem to like that, scooting back as if he felt guilty for hurting the man during their chase. He didn’t dare break the creature’s gaze, unsure of what that would mean for his fate. He was unsure of a lot of things at the moment.
Instead, he slowly slid off an arm of his backpack, keeping a close eye on the werewolf to see what it would do. It simply stood there, staring at Ryan with expectant eyes, if that was even possible. Maybe Ryan had finally lost it. He slowly undid the zipper enough to reach in and find the speaker he had stashed away for emergencies, he certainly didn’t plan to use it this early on but the fact that he wasn’t dead yet was a miracle, he wasn’t about to waste it.
Switching it on, Ryan held the box high, watching the creature’s attention switch to the strange device. If it had a tail, Ryan could imagine it wagging right about now, as if the pair were about to play catch. A thought went through his head for a second that maybe the creature really was playing with Ryan, as he waved the speaker from side to side and the werewolf followed its movement with an intense concentration. What the fuck?
Ryan wasn’t about to test his luck on this frankly ‘faulty’ werewolf and set the speaker off the play the highest tone it could manage without blowing. It seemed to do the trick, causing the creature to yell up at the sky in agony and shake its head around in a poor attempt to cover its ears. It took one last look at Ryan, who defiantly held out the speaker towards it as if to dare the beast to attack again, and sprinted away into the forest. Ryan held onto the speaker as long as he could until he couldn’t stand the sound any longer and switched it off with haste.
“Jesus christ, no wonder they hate that,” he rubbed his ears to ease the pain the sound had caused, keeping his eye on the treeline where the werewolf had just disappeared into. Only when he was confident it would not be returning was when he turned his attention onto his leg, hissing as he saw the blood spreading through the fabric of his jeans. That wasn’t good.
“I need to get the fuck out of here,” he quickly decided, not wanting to chance fate by running into any other creatures, quickly packing up the weapons that had fallen out of his hands during the chase. It became apparently how truly fucked up his ankle now was, each step serving a wince from Ryan. He pushed through it, determined to not waste this miracle from the universe of surviving an attack from a werewolf that definitely should have killed him.
Why didn’t it kill him?
The next few minutes, hours maybe, were a blur to the man, a mixture of pain and adrenaline powering him through the woods. He wanted to go back home, he wanted to be wrapped up in his warm duvet, a phone in hand as he scrolled through the lives of his friends on a screen. Maybe if he ever did get to return to his apartment, which was looking less and less likely with every step, he would finally find the perfect mixture of confidence and stupidity to reach out to his friends. To Dylan.
Soon the ground beneath Ryan’s feet started to smooth over, the trees growing less and less dense around him as he drew closer to a destination he knew he was heading towards. Despite having no map, no sense of direction and possibly a concussion and a slight loss of blood, Ryan knew as soon as he took that final step onto the land he once called home for a summer that he had made it to where he needed to be. His foggy brain finally cleared enough for him to register what was in front of him. A large sign, one that hadn’t seen visitors in years, announcing the arrival into Hackett’s Quarry.
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First things first, Ryan wanted a gun.
His delirious brain had started to settle a little now that he had finally arrived at the camp, why he was in such a rush to get here anyway he still hadn’t had time to fully question. A well-timed howl from the woods had let him know he didn’t really have time to sit and ponder, which led him to rush towards the cabins to start his search. He instantly knew where he should check first, making his way to Mr H’s office first to see if what he remembered from the place was still accurate. He tried his best to keep the bile rising in his stomach from getting to him, the memory of his mentor still fresh in his mind.
Ryan let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding upon reaching the cabin and spotting the gun still displayed proudly on the wall, as if it had never been touched that night. He instantly grabbed it and went to check for bullets, chuckling to myself lightly as he reminded himself of how he could have punched Dylan for doing the same. The sudden memory of his friend quickly soured any humour Ryan had left, the reminder that his old colleagues still had no idea that the werewolves were back ate at him like a tumour. He almost felt guilty for not telling them, they had every right to be made aware, but he also knew that if they were aware of Ryan’s current presence at the camp it would take no hesitation on their part before they joined him here – something about ‘not fighting this alone’. Ryan couldn’t risk that. He had to keep them safe, even if that also meant keeping them in the dark.
After checking his weapon had enough ammo to protect him for now, Ryan went around his old mentor’s office searching for more bullets, just to be sure. He barely even remembered how to use this gun, hoping to rely basically on muscle memory and adrenaline alone. It helped him survive last time at least.
It wasn’t until Ryan finally collapsed against the wall of the cabin that he had time to fully comprehend the situation he had put himself in. This pull that he had been feeling all evening to get to the quarry as quickly as possible seemed to have dimmed to a slight nudge at best now that he was here and the pain in his arm was now a solid throb, a reminder of the bite scar left by Laura. He gave it a scratch out of habit, focusing on his slow and steady breathing to hopefully calm his heart which was currently beating much faster than he felt comfortable with. Something wasn’t right, this whole situation – Ryan’s suddenly urgency, it all felt wrong. He just couldn’t figure out why.
Sure, there was seemingly a new generation of werewolf out for blood in the forest, which must have stemmed from something similar to Silas. These werewolves however seemed to be different, more intelligent in a way...
Ryan’s mind went back to his encounter early that evening. He should have died, there was no logical reason as to why that beast didn’t kill him. Instead, it seemed to have scented him and then… played with him? The more Ryan tried to wrap his head around the concept, the more confused he became. It made no sense; the creature had treated him like it knew him? Even after digging its claws into his ankle, it almost felt like upon smelling Ryan, the werewolf’s behaviour became that of a large dog waiting to play catch-
His leg!
Ryan’s attention shifted to his injured ankle almost immediately, only just remembering he must have been bleeding this entire time without noticing. Fuck. That meant there was now a trail leading the creatures straight to him, like dinner served on a fucking silver platter. He had to stop the bleeding and get the hell out of here. Ryan grabbed the cuff of his jeans and dragged them up his leg, expecting to hiss harshly as the fabric rubbed against the wound.
Except he felt nothing. Looking down at his leg, he wiped away the drying blood to find the wound that had caused him to limp his way to camp was healing, almost completely scarred over.
What.. the fuck…
In the back of Ryan’s mind, he knew what that implied. He’d experienced this kind of super healing before and he knew all too well what the requirements were for it. But it didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.
“What the fuck,” he vocalised, putting his head in his hands, brushing his fingers through his hair. His back hit the wall with a thump, but Ryan was too caught up in his thoughts to care. His arm still hurt, but now that throbbing was starting to implicate something that Ryan didn’t want to consider. The full moon shone through the window into the cabin and the more Ryan stared at it, the bigger his hatred grew. This was meant to be over. They were meant to have won. So why was Ryan still-
“FUCK!” A yell suddenly echoed into the cabin from outside, causing Ryan’s blood to turn to ice. That wasn’t a werewolf, that was a person. A human fucking being. Holy shit, he wasn’t alone!
Oh shit, he wasn’t alone.
Ryan cursed, jumping into action as he grabbed the gun lying there and scrambled off of the floor. If he wasn’t alone, that meant there were others out there in equal, if not more danger than him. That meant there were more people to infect, meaning more werewolves, meaning more work for him.
Another cry ran out, Ryan identified it coming from a man somewhere towards the back of the lodge. Whoever this guy was, Ryan really needed him to shut the hell up. He was being way too loud and was probably attracting any surrounding werewolves straight to them, that is if Ryan’s blood trail didn’t do that job on its own. He seemed to yelling garbage, mixed with cheers of victory? Or taunting, Ryan couldn’t quite tell.
Throwing the door to the lodge open, Ryan ran straight towards the back of the building, gun aimed directly in from of him as he prepared for an attack. The sound of the guy was getting closer as he ran, leading Ryan to be able to catch a few words.
“-ck you mother fucker! I have a gun! I will shoot you man- puppy dog eyes don’t work on me- “
“Jesus christ,” Ryan ran to the corner of the lodge and peered around it, catching a glimpse of a werewolf not too far away. It seemed to be staring at something intently, probably at the guy that was still yelling his head off, but didn’t seem to be readying an attack. Ryan quickly realised it was in the same position as the other werewolf he had encountered that evening, its body language reminiscent of a dog waiting to play. Despite this downright odd evolution, even if these werewolves were more interested in playing catch than tearing out the throats of their prey, Ryan suspected that ‘playtime’ might be a little too rough for humans.
“I swear to god man, don’t make me get your girlfriend- you are so sleeping on the couch tomorrow if you eat me- “
The more this guy spoke, the more uneasy Ryan felt. He couldn’t place the voice and yet a part of himself was itching to run to it, to protect it… The bite scar gave a painful stab, reminding Ryan of the unnerving truth that there might be something else running through his veins right now that wasn’t helping him think very clearly. It was probably that, some territorial thing about the camp and a stranger invading his space. Sure, why not? That wasn’t any more plausible than the rest of this fucked up situation.
Ryan took a deep breath and stepped out from the shadows, raising his gun and aiming directly at the creature which had still yet to spot him. This gave the human an advantage, a few extra seconds to ready himself before he drew the beast’s attention, he still couldn’t see the man from his angle but that wasn’t his main concern right now.
“Hey!” He yelled with more confidence than he felt, causing the werewolf’s gaze to fall quickly onto him. Those yellow eyes once again bore down on him as Ryan clenched his fist, finger hovering over the trigger ready to shoot at any moment. He simply stared back, slowly stepping to the side as he lined up his shot. “Gotcha, mother fucker.“
“Wha- DON’T SHOOT!”
What?
Ryan stole a peek at the man, who was hidden by the shadow of the tree he was beneath, if Ryan knew any better, he’d have guessed the guy was just about to climb it. Or attempt to climb it. He didn’t spend too long examining this stranger before his attention was back on the creature, who tilted its head before turning to give Ryan its full attention.
“Get out of here man,” he warned, adjusting the gun again. He wasn’t about to have another kid’s blood on his hands just because he got caught up in this mess. His gaze stayed trained on the creature as it began to crawl closer, clearly intrigued by this new prey that had just entered the game. A little closer… just a little closer…
As he continued to retreat from the shadows of the lodge, he was met with no response from the stranger.
“Get out! Run!” He tried again with a little more urgency in his voice. In the corner of his eye, he could see the guy had started to move. He wasn’t running though, no, he had started to walk closer to Ryan and the creature.
“Dude! Run!” What the hell was this guy doing? He was getting too close; another step and the shotgun shells would surely hit him too. Couldn’t he see Ryan was trying to protect him?
Ryan was just about ready to take the shot when he heard it, the mixture of a sob and a laugh of disbelief. It made Ryan’s stomach turn in a weird emotion he didn’t quite recognise, but it was enough for him to take another glance towards the stranger.
Oh. Not a stranger.
“…Ry?” Dylan’s small voice echoed in Ryan’s ears, sending chills through his veins. His grip on the shotgun wavered, not even subtly as the flashlight moved with it. Ryan didn’t care, he couldn’t drag his eyes away from the man that stood there. He could tell Dylan was struggling to stay on his feet just the same, another small laugh escaping his lips as he stared at Ryan with those eyes full of love and hope.
Oh god, I’ve missed him so much.
Ryan opened his mouth to voice this without thought, however the werewolf had other ideas. Having been ignored for apparently too long, it took its opportunity to rush towards Ryan and leap towards the man, causing Dylan to let out a yell of warning. Somehow, Ryan was able to bring himself back to reality just quick enough to dodge out of the way, almost on reflex alone. Huh…
He brought the gun back up, trying his best to focus on the fight and not the fact that he was now even closer to Dylan. Fuck, he was pretty sure he could smell him, that wasn’t a good sign. The creature spun back towards the pair, eyes locked onto the weapon in Ryan’s hand. It started to rear back, ready to make another attack.
“Ryan don’t shoot!”
“What?” He yelled back at Dylan, not risking another glance at the man. God it was so good to hear his voice again, Ryan hadn’t realised what he had been depriving himself of until now. He knew if he locked eyes with Dylan again that he wouldn’t be able to tear them away.
The werewolf stared back, almost like it was daring him to shoot, to disobey.
“It’s Nick, don’t shoot!”
…
…Nick?
Oh fuck.