Marked by the Wolf

The forest was quieter than usual. 

I should have turned back when I felt the chill in the air, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones even on a warm night. 

But something kept me going—maybe it was the way the trees seemed to close in around me, or the sense that something was waiting out there in the darkness. I wasn't sure what it was, but there was a pull I couldn't ignore. 

Crescent Hollow wasn't exactly known for being exciting. It was the kind of town where nothing much ever happened—at least not in the open. And for the most part, I liked it that way. Quiet was good. Quiet was predictable. But tonight was different. 

The light from my bike's headlamp barely cut through the black as I pedaled down the trail. The only sound was the crunch of gravel beneath my tires and the occasional rustle of branches above me. The wind shifted, carrying with it the scent of something faintly metallic. Blood. I should have recognized it then, but I didn't— not until it was too late. 

I glanced at my phone: 10:12 PM. Mom was going to kill me if I did not get back soon. She had a thing about being out late, especially after the divorce. 

Overprotective is what Noah called it. 

Maybe he was right. But still, there was something about that night, something that kept me pushing forward, deeper into the woods. 

Suddenly, I heard a twig snap. I froze, my heart skipping a beat as my hands tightened around the handle bars. 

There was no way I was alone out here. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I scanned the darkness, trying to convince myself that it was just some animal. A deer. A raccoon. Something harmless. 

But then I saw it—movement. Just a flicker of something darting between the trees. Too fast. Too large to be an animal. I could feel my pulse hammering in my throat as I slowly dismounted the bike. My instincts screamed at me to leave, to turn back before whatever was out there found me. But I couldn't. My feet moved on their own, carrying me toward the shadows like I was being drawn in by some invisible force. 

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves overhead. The darkness seemed to deepen as I stepped off the trail, the dense under bush crackling beneath my feet. I moved cautiously, trying to stay as quiet as possible, though my breathing had become ragged. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. 

And then I heard it—a low, guttural growl that stopped me dead in my tracks. My stomach twisted, and my hands trembled as I slowly turned my head in the direction of the sound. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought whatever was out there could probably hear it, too. 

I didn't want to look. But I did. 

At first, I couldn't make out what it was—just a shadow moving between the trees, slinking closer. But then, as the moon broke through the canopy, I saw it: a creature, low to the ground, eyes glowing an unnatural shade of amber. Its body was massive, muscles rippling beneath a coat of matted fur. 

The thing looked like a wolf, but it was bigger—too big to be anything natural. 

My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, I couldn't move. Couldn't think. My mind went blank, like my body had forgotten how to function. But then, instinct took over, and I bolted. I didn't even bother grabbing my bike. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, weaving through the trees, not caring about the branches that whipped against my face. 

The sound of paws—heavy, fast—pounded behind me, closing the distance in a matter of seconds. I pushed myself harder, the burning in my lungs growing sharper with every step. But it wasn't enough. I could feel it closing in, the hot breath on the back of my neck. 

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath me. I tumbled down an embankment, hitting the ground hard. 

Pain shot through my shoulder as I rolled, dirt and leaves sticking to my skin. When I finally came to a stop, I lay there, gasping for breath, my head spinning. Everything hurt. 

For a moment, there was only silence. 

Then I heard the growl again—closer this time. The creature was on me in an instant, pinning me to the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of me. I struggled, kicking and clawing, but it was like trying to fight a boulder. It had me. 

I stared up into its eyes—those unnatural, glowing eyes—and in that moment, I knew this was it. I was going to die out here, torn apart in the woods where no one would find me. 

The creature's jaws opened wide and I caught a glimpse of its fangs—long, razor-sharp, glistening with saliva. It reared back, ready to strike. 

And then it bit me. 

The pain was nothing I'd ever felt before. White-hot, searing agony ripped through my body as its teeth sank into my shoulder. I screamed—an animalistic sound, raw and desperate. 

My vision blurred as the world around me spun, darkness creeping in at the edges of my consciousness. 

The last thing I saw before everything went blank was the creature pulling back, blood dripping from its maw. But it didn't kill me. Instead, it let out a howl—long and mournful—before turning and vanishing into the trees, leaving me broken and bleeding in the dirt. 

...................................... 

I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating in my pocket. The world around me was blurry, the outlines of the trees and the rocks distorted as though I was looking through fogged glass. My head throbbed, and my body felt like it had been run over by a truck. For a few seconds, I couldn't remember where I was or how I'd gotten there. 

And then it all came rushing back—the creature, the bite, the pain. 

I stood up, wincing as I clutched my shoulder. My hand came away sticky with blood, but the wound had already begun to close. That didn't make any sense. I'd seen that thing's fangs sink into me. I should have been torn into shreds, or at least on my way to the hospital. But the wound—though deep —was healing. Too fast. 

I staggered to my feet, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. My bike was nowhere to be seen. I must have left it when I ran. I fumbled for my phone, squinting at the screen. It was almost midnight. Mom was going to freak. 

I had to get home. 

The walk back to town was a blur of pain and confusion. Every step felt like my body ripped apart from the inside, but I kept going, driven by the need to get somewhere safe. The air around me felt changed, like the forest was watching me, waiting. 

When I finally made it back to my street, everything looked normal—too normal. The houses were quiet, lights dimmed for the night. It was as if nothing happened. As if I hadn't just been attacked by some kind of monster in the woods. 

I stumbled up to the front steps of my house, fumbling with my keys before finally pushing the door open. The familiar smell of home—clean linens, the faint scent of Mom's perfume—hit me like a wave, I wanted to collapse right there in the entryway, but I couldn't. Not yet. 

"Jason?" Mom's voice came from the kitchen, and a second later, she appeared in the doorway. "Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?" 

I opened my mouth to answer, but the words wouldn't come. How was I supposed to explain what had just happened? 

"I—" I started, but then my knees buckled, and the world tilted sideways. 

I woke up in my bed, my head pounding like someone had taken a jackhammer to my skull. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, too bright, too intense. Every sound— birds chirping outside, the creak of floorboards in the hallway— was amplified, as if the volume had been cranked all the way up. 

For a moment, I lay there, trying to remember how I'd gotten home. The events of the previous night were a jumbled mess of confusion and fear. But the pain in my shoulder was real. I reached up, touching the bandage that covered the bite. 

A sudden wave of nausea rolled through me as the memory of the creature's fangs sinking into my flesh hit me again. That thing— whatever it was— it had done something to me. 

And it wasn't just a bite. 

I felt different. Stronger. More alert. 

My senses were sharper, like the world had been turned up to eleven. I could hear the faint hum of electricity in the walls, the distant buzz of a bee outside the window. 

I sat up, pulling back the covers. My heart was racing, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Something was very wrong. 

And then I heard it— just outside my window. A low, familiar growl. 

The sound of paws against the earth. 

It was back.