Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Laura - 23:30

Chris Hackett is dead.

She’s so sure of it that she hadn’t waited for the body to turn back; she’d just run as fast as she could, eager to take Max away from this nightmare they’d been trapped in all summer.

However, standing on the rickety wooden walkway of the treehouse, Max is nowhere to be seen. Or heard. It’s too still.

“Max?” There is no answer other than the wind rustling the trees around her.

“Hello?”

Did she—

—did she kill the wrong werewolf?

A low rumble starts from somewhere behind her, at first nearly inaudible, but growing closer as the creature stalks toward her.

Laura whips around, the pit that had been growing in her stomach twisting violently as she is met with the familiar form of the monster who’d clawed her eye out. The one who’d burst out of her boyfriend’s body. The one who’s supposed to be gone.

Max…

The creature lunges toward her, and she attempts to dodge out of his way. Unfortunately, he course-corrects in time to make contact with her, and they both go tumbling over the side railing. When they hit the ground, Laura thanks whatever luck she still has on her side that she hasn’t broken her neck; however, there’s a sharp pain in the back of her head, and judging by her doubled vision, she’s most likely concussed. Great.

She tries to get up, but it soon dawns on her that something is pinning her down. The wolf raises his head, studying his prey. She can’t move. She can’t use her shotgun. No one will come if she calls for help.

Laura is going to die.

“Max,” she whispers. He tilts his head, and she wants to believe he recognizes his name…but she knows he’s not there.

His hesitation is short-lived, and before she can cry out, his teeth descend upon her exposed neck.

As swiftly as the wolf had gone for her throat, Laura is swept away from the scene, and she finds herself somewhere completely different.

They’re in Max’s backyard, lying next to each other on the grass. It’s a calm night, full of fireflies and the faint humming of cicadas in the distance. The humidity feels surprisingly nice as the night cools the summer air around them.

It’s Laura’s first night staying here, and she’s going to be with his family for a while. She tries not to dwell on the circumstances that led to her leaving home and instead turns to her boyfriend. “You know what I just realized?”

“What’s that?”

“I get to do this every day. We could sleep under the stars for the rest of our lives if we wanted to.”

“Yeah? We could pitch a tent out here and get a fire going, even.” Max rolls over onto his side, expression becoming serious. “Wait — important question: do you prefer your marshmallows toasted or burnt?”

“Is that even a question? Toasted! I don’t enjoy the taste of ash with my sugar.” Laura twists her face in disgust as she mirrors his movement, turning to fully face him.

“Slander! I’m team ‘burnt marshmallow’ all the way. It adds depth to the flavor!”

Laura rolls her eyes. “To each their own. I’ll know who to give mine to if I overcook them.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” He reaches a hand out to take hers. They hold each others’ gazes, laughter fading into warm smiles and comfortable silence.

“Max.”

“Hmm?”

“Stay with me?”

“Right here? Tonight?”

“I mean forever, preferably.”

He blushes, clearly taken aback by the sudden declaration. “Sure thing.”

They lean in toward each other, closing their eyes as their lips meet.

When Laura opens her eyes again, she’s back in Hackett’s Quarry, but there’s no pain. Her good eye darts around the clearing, landing on a body slumped over a few feet ahead. Their head is completely missing, and a familiar metal object glints from the puddle of blood pooling underneath.

That’s Max’s necklace.

And that’s Laura’s corpse.

Now, she wishes she could scream at the horror of what’s in front of her, but her mouth stays silent. 

From a patch of brush, he comes back out, apparently not done with her.

Max, she wants to say, Max, baby, it’s okay.

The wolf crouches down and sniffs her corpse. He then lets out a howl, and she swears he sounds as if he’s in mourning.

It wasn’t you, she thinks as the corners of her vision finally start to fade.

He skulks away, leaving Laura alone with her fate.

She fixes her gaze on the treeline, where she can see a patch of sky from here.

Falling asleep under the stars. One last time.

LAURA KEARNEY: DECEASED

Laura was beheaded by her boyfriend Max, who was still in werewolf form, when she failed to evade him on the island.

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Abi - 1:35

If there’s one counselor at this camp Abi knows she can count on, it’s Kaitlyn. She’s a fantastic leader, a trustworthy confidant, and a wicked good shot when you put a gun in her hand.

However, nobody’s perfect. Abi sadly comes to this realization as the shotgun spread intended for the thing chasing her instead hits the ground, missing its target completely.

Maybe Kaitlyn can get another shot in, but Abi doesn’t stick around to find out. Her feet are taking her behind the lodge, unsure of their destination, but nevertheless moving at a breakneck speed as if she could actually outrun a seven-foot-tall werewolf.

As she rounds the corner, a beacon of hope appears before her. Not in the biblical spiritual sense, but in the sense of a literal means of escape. The golf cart.

Abi jumps inside, trembling hands moving nearly too fast as they search for the keys. She quickly locates them and reckons there’s just enough time to turn it on and make her escape.

She turns the ignition, and because tonight was seemingly designed to specifically ruin her life entirely, because everything that could possibly have gone wrong has, the damn thing won’t start. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Abi spins her head around just in time for the wolf to lunge toward her.

She’s fucked.

Ducking away from the attack, Abi manages to evade death as the werewolf makes contact with the frame and she once again twists the key in the ignition. “Come on, come on!” she mutters. Just gotta get the engine to start…

Miraculously, the beautiful sound of the golf cart’s motor coming to life fills Abi with a sliver of hope. She slams on the gas. This is it. Why didn’t they use this to get help sooner? It doesn’t matter now; hopefully Kaitlyn and Dylan are safe, and she can make her way to North Kill PD and pray the cops believe her.

Abi steers the cart in a sharp turn, attempting to pull onto the dirt path leading to the main road. She’s almost there. One more turn…

Something cuts her off, bolting in front of the cart. She panics, slamming on the brakes.

Big mistake.

The werewolf takes advantage of her hesitation too readily, leaping toward Abi from the front of the cart. She jumps out, no longer confident in her ability to escape from this place on wheels — much less at all — but she can’t just give up. She has to try. She has to—

Abi freezes in horror as the wolf wraps its claws around the frame of the windshield, then lifts up the vehicle with little struggle and slams it down on top of her body, still lying on her side. She can’t even turn to face her fate head-on; her head is pinned down by something sharp and cold digging into her neck. She can taste the metal of it in her throat, growing and pooling and blocking her airway. She’s so panicked from the sudden loss of oxygen that she almost doesn’t notice the pressure releasing, freeing her from its grasp.

Abi rolls over onto her back in relief, gasping in the humid air. Maybe she can crawl away, or cover her head…

Before she can make a decision that may have saved her life, the werewolf brings the edge of the cart’s roof back down onto Abi, crushing what’s left of her mutilated neck one, two, three — countless times. Too many for her to keep track of. Not that she would have been able to — she’d blacked out after the first.

ABIGAIL BLYG: DECEASED

Abi attempted to escape werewolf Emma via golf cart, but was unable to outrun her. As a result, Emma crushed her neck, severing her head from her body.

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Ryan - 1:44

Maybe if he’d tried harder, he could have prevented all of it. He could have been more adamant about keeping the others inside. He could have let Dylan stay infected instead of removing his hand and leaving him to die. He could have made it to Kaylee before Laura killed her in cold blood.

But this nonsensical lever puzzle to open the Hackett cages? Ryan can not be blamed for fucking this up.

“Ryan, you fucking idiot!” Jacob screams as the werewolf next to him is given access to his cell. Ryan goes to take the shotgun, but Laura pulls it away.

“What the fuck are you doing? We have to save him!”

“Weren’t you the one who just said we have to be sure?” Laura’s eyes glint golden, even in the harsh red light. “We can’t waste any more ammo than necessary!”

Oh, so now she wants to be rational about choosing which werewolves to kill? They don’t have time for this!

Ryan shakes his head, once again reaching for the gun. “I don’t care! Jacob’s gonna die if we don’t—”

They both fall silent in response to a bloodcurdling scream erupting from in front of them. The wolf has Jacob pinned, his face searing against the electrified metal grill of his cage. It glares at Ryan over Jacob’s shoulder, almost as if it wants him to watch the show.

The werewolf slowly wraps its jaws around his neck, as if it were a vampire draining blood from their victim. But this is no vampire, and it clamps down on Jacob’s throat, its teeth gnawing viciously until his screams are reduced to sputtering coughs, then nothing.

Satisfied with its performance, the wolf tosses Jacob’s head freely aside. It lands back in the wolf’s cage, blood and a charred grid of burns marring the boy’s face.

“No!” Ryan rushes to the cage door, hands yanking on the grate. He doesn’t care that it burns. He doesn’t care if it’s too late. He can’t…he can’t just leave Jacob here.

“Ryan…” Laura calls out hesitantly. The wolf is still staring him down. “We have to—”

Her words are cut off as something muffles her, and Ryan turns around just as a massive figure takes hold of his arms, dragging him away from the bloody scene.

JACOB CUSTOS: DECEASED

Ryan was unable to solve the lever puzzle in the Hackett basement, and was too slow to take control of the gun, leading to werewolf Nick decapitating Jacob.

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Dylan - 2:35

Kaitlyn’s screaming his name.

The lever’s stuck.

More screaming.

Shit!

Dylan can only assume that the thing has bitten her and is seconds from finishing the job.

What the fuck are you waiting for?! Drop the damn thing!

He slams the car down on the werewolf.

Silence.

That’s a good thing — right?

“Kaitlyn?”

Dylan only gives himself a second to breathe before he rushes down toward the destroyed vehicle. “Kaitlyn,” he breathes out in relief when he sees that the wolf is pinned underneath. However, so is Kaitlyn, and she isn’t moving. Only her head and right arm have managed to escape being trapped.

“Shit, I got you!” He lifts up on the hood as best as he can in his condition, and — and her neck is gushing blood. Her head rolls slightly, and he now realizes why she isn’t conscious.

He fucking sliced her head off.

“No…Kaitlyn. I didn’t mean to…” he pleads to her. But she doesn’t respond.

The growl emanating from under the car reminds Dylan of the threat he hasn’t quite eliminated yet.

Kaitlyn’s gun is within reach. He should take it and run as far away as he can before it’s too late.

Not hesitating any more than he has, Dylan grips the gun with his good hand and staggers his way out of the scrapyard.

He doesn’t even know how he’s gonna use the thing with only one—

Fuck!

He killed Kaitlyn. Not a werewolf. Not some crazy hunter in the woods.

Him.

Dylan drops to his knees and makes no effort to keep the gun from falling into the grass beside him, suddenly not caring if a werewolf were to sneak up on him and end it right here and now.

It would be a mercy.

KAITLYN KA - DECEASED

Dylan failed to drop the car on the wolf in the scrapyard quickly. As a result, Kaitlyn was decapitated when he accidentally crushed her with the vehicle.

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Max - 3:17

Why do I do this to myself?

Hindsight is 20/20, and standing face-to-face with a werewolf, sopping wet and wearing Laura’s several-sizes-too-small tracksuit, Max is wishing he’d stayed on that island.

He ducks under the wolf’s first blow and miraculously is able to somersault behind the creature, giving himself enough time to get a head start on running the fuck away.

How the fuck is this guy even still alive? Chuck — or was it Chris? — the Hackett guy was supposed to be killed, like all the way, to cure Max. What is this? Is there some kind of loophole T-money didn’t tell them about?

Not that it matters at this point, because Max is still being chased by the thing, but he’d really rather things had worked out like Laura had promised him. Too bad he doesn’t know where anything is due to the whole being kidnapped for two months and missing out on camp thing.

“Max!”

Like she’s been sent from heaven itself, he can’t believe it. Laura.

He changes direction, rounding a tree in a sharp enough turn to cause the werewolf to crash into the trunk with a loud thump.

“First day with your new legs?” Max teases, almost considering turning around to gloat more before remembering how terrible of an idea that is. He continues running in the direction of the voice.

“Max! This way!” He’s getting closer. If he can reach her, she’ll be able to protect both of them way more efficiently than he could dream to and they can finally go home.

He can see someone in the distance. Despite her inexplicable costume change, that’s her — Laura, in all of her confidence and beauty, standing positioned with a trusty shotgun aimed in his direction.

“Hon!” Max picks up speed. Almost there…

“Careful—”

“What?”

“Max—”

Before he can stop himself, Max trips over something metallic and falls forward.

Cold, sharp spikes dig into his skull. The mechanism is tightly clamped around his head. He can’t help the pathetic sounds coming out from his mouth, but he tries his best to call out for Laura.

Over the sound of his screams, he has no idea who grabs him, but he doesn’t have long to debate that as his body is yanked harshly away from the trap. Something snaps, and Laura’s voice cries out from right in front of him.

Another forceful pull.

Then no pain.

Then a gunshot.

Then hands, soft hands, touching him.

“Oh my god. Max,” Laura sobs.

I’m still here, he tries to reassure, but nothing comes out.

MAX BRINLY - DECEASED

Max was unable to avoid falling headfirst into a beartrap. This allowed Caleb to catch up and pull his body away from the trap, separating his head and his torso.

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Kaitlyn - 4:05

You’d think being a werewolf would make you tougher.

Sharp senses, thick skin, rapid healing — if what Laura had said was right, she wouldn’t be lying on her ass, groaning from the impact of, well, falling on her ass.

Kaitlyn can’t complain too much. Yeah, she’s near paralyzed judging by her nonexistent range of motion, but she’s also still breathing, which is a fucking miracle considering her neck should be broken. It probably is, or was — but something is shifting inside her, and she has a feeling both she and the wolf who had tumbled after her aren’t going to be down for long.

“Kaitlyn…?”

Dylan. No. He can’t be here. She struggles to turn her head, to get up, to do anything to warn him before it’s too late—

As if it can hear her thoughts, the thing jumps out from practically nowhere and leaps over her limp form.

Something metallic clatters to the floor. She hears him scream, but it’s swiftly cut off by a sickening cracking of bone followed by a solid thud.

Then footsteps.

Then silence.

Forcing her inhuman muscles to fucking move, she manages to sit up, her bruised body suddenly filled with adrenaline, and turns toward where Dylan had just stood seconds ago.

Oh god.

Kaitlyn thought she’d expected the worst.

What she hadn’t expected was for his head to be completely dislocated from his now still corpse, lying a few feet in front of her in a crimson puddle.

She can see his face clearly, and it isn’t twisted in pain or fear. It’s…empty. Like a mannequin’s. A bloody, glassy-eyed mannequin that looks exactly like her friend.

Maybe if Kaitlyn was in her right mind she would cry out, or try to distance herself before the wolf returns, but she instead stares at the carnage in silent, open-mouthed horror.

“No,” she mutters. Her head is shaking on its own. “No. This isn’t—”

She crawls forward and cups her hands around his face. She has to put him back together. She has to fix this.

It’s heavier than she anticipates, but Kaitlyn eventually, taking great care not to further injure him, places Dylan’s head where it’s supposed to be. If she doesn’t look too closely, she can almost ignore the shredded mass of flesh that used to be his neck. Almost.

Kaitlyn sits with Dylan, her knees positioned behind his head while her hands hold it in place. In some alternate universe, he gets better. The infection sets in, and he’s healed, just like her. In this one, the reality of his fate is becoming all too real, and the best she can do is lie to his lifeless face.

“You’re okay, buddy. You’re okay.”

DYLAN LENIVY - DECEASED

Dylan was decapitated after Kaitlyn fell off of the beam, rendering her unable to defend him from Caleb’s attack.