Chapter One

She doesn't remember much about that night.

She knows it had been warm so she went for a walk. She knows she wandered too far so she didn't make it back to her dorm before nightfall.

After that, there's nothing.

Roughly two weeks into her first semester at Blackwell Academy, Kate Marsh wakes up covered in blood.

The first thing she does, like any rational human in this situation, is scream. This action is quickly followed by Kate throwing herself off of the bed. This proves to be a mistake when she hits the floor with a loud thump and sharp, hot pain shoots through her back and shoulder.

Somewhere in the background, Kate hears Alice stir in her cage. The next thing she hears is several feminine voices shouting to shut the fuck up, people are trying to sleep.

Then there's a knock at the door and a much softer voice on the other side. "Kate? Are you okay?" It's Max.

Kate has enough common sense to know she should probably go to a hospital but the first thing that comes to her mind is Shit, my mom will kill me if she finds out.So she scrambles to her feet and slams her body against the door Max has been trying to open. "Kate? Kate!" The knocking becomes more frantic. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Kate feels flattered that Max, her sort of acquaintance maybe hopefully friend, is so worried about her. Luckily, the functioning part of her brain shoves the thought aside for a later date.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine!" Kate calls. She wills her voice to stop shaking. Maybe that's the rest of her body. Who the fuck knows? "Just a nightmare, I'm sorry!" She knows she's a terrible liar but she hopes Max will drop it.

She lucks out because the knocking stops. There's a pause on the other side and for a moment, Kate thinks Max has left (and that makes her feel kind of sad, which is another thought for later). Then, "You sure?" And damn it, she just has to sound so concerned.

Kate takes a deep breath and steps away from the door. It's locked, there's no need to be so dramatic she tells herself. "I'm fine, really. Sorry I woke everyone up."

Max doesn't reply for a long time. Kate bites her lip, willing the other girl to please just go away, please.

She does. After what feels like several hours' worth of tense silence, Max says, "If you're sure. I'm in my room if you need me," and leaves.

Kate lets out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and sinks against the door. Crisis averted, she thinks. But what the hell even is the crisis?

The pain in her shoulder returns again but it's dull, like the ache of an old injury. When she stands to look in the mirror, it does look like an old injury – old and angry and fucking huge.

Kate takes off her shirt and cranes her neck and turns in circles but she can't see the full extent of the damage. It feels like there's a patch of flesh starting at the base of her neck and going who the fuck knows where down her back where the skin is just gone. Long and jagged, in sets of four, what Kate can only assume are claw marks run along the back of her left arm to her ribs. The worst is the wound on her left shoulder – a circle of puncture wounds, red and dotted with dried blood. It almost looks like something bit her.

That's what must have happened. Something, some animal, attacked her while she was in the forest. But then why doesn't she remember it? And how the fuck did she make it back to her room?

For the first time, Kate takes full stock of herself and her room. She's wearing her pajamas for one and not her bra. Her normal white button up lies in tatters by the side of her bed along with her cardigan and skirt. So, not only had she made it back to her dorm room after being attacked by a wild animal, she had the presence of mind to change clothes. But not enough to actually remember what happened. Great.

So, Kate thinks to herself, and on some level, she knows this isn't a normal response to waking up covered in your own blood after apparently being mauled, but she's already lied to Max and lying is bad and she's having a hard enough time making friends, thank you very much.

Deep breath. Think.

Kate sighs. So, she starts again, I went for a walk. I was attacked by something. I made it back to my room. I changed into my pajamas. I fell asleep and now I don't remember any of it.

Strange fucking night.

Kate frowns at her reflection. The initial adrenaline having worn off, she realizes just how dirty everything is. There's blood on her bed, in her hair and on her face. All she wants right now is a hot shower and no less than forty-eight hours of sleep.

Slowly, mindful of her still sore injuries, Kate puts back on her pajama shirt (which is also covered in blood ew), gathers up her ruined bedding, bath stuffs, and a spare set of clothes, and heads for the showers.


The shower turns out to be less of a God send and more of a balancing act. Kate can't stay under the cold water for too long without shivering; too hot and her wounds start to sting and burn. There's blood, dried and fresh, washing over her along with the water and soap. It's awful and painful and her body wash suddenly smells too strong to even consider using but she feels better when she steps out.

She pats her shoulder with a towel as gently as possible. There's no blood, thank God, so she dresses and steps out.

Her bedding sits in a sink full of red water and she knows there's no saving her sheets. She'll throw them out on the way back to her room, she decides. Hopefully Samuel won't notice. Maybe he'd just think someone was on their period. Kate makes a face. She really does not want to think about blood anymore. She rings out her sheets as best she can and pointedly does not watch the water flow down the drain.

Kate takes a moment to look at herself in the mirror. With the lights on, she can see just how tired she looks. She's even paler than usual and dark circles mar her eyes. Kate sighs for what must be the tenth time that night. At least she's clean.

She tries to swallow but her mouth is dry. Her teeth feel too big for her skull and too sharp on her tongue. When she looks, though, they're normal. "Get a grip, Kate," she mutters under her breath.

She turns on the faucet and brings a handful of water to her mouth, rinses and spits. It does little to relieve the dryness. She wishes she remembered to bring her toothbrush.

Something bright and shimmery catches her eye. She jerks her head to look in the mirror and she swears her irises are glowing fucking gold. She blinks. They're brown.

Kate runs a hand through her hair. "Get a grip," she says again.

And she does. Kate forces her eyes (her brown eyes, they're brown, Kate) away from the mirror, grabs her shit, and goes back to her room to sleep for the rest of the week if she's lucky.


She's not lucky, of course. If life as a whole has taught Kate anything, it's that she's never lucky.

Her alarm clock blares at her somewhere between fuck-my-life o'clock and the actual crack of dawn. Kate smashes the snooze button so hard, she thinks the clock might break, decides she doesn't care, and falls back asleep.

Definitely less than nine minutes later, however, there's a knock at the door. It's soft and tentative and Kate knows it's Max without even hearing her say, "Kate? It's me. Are you awake?"

Kate contemplates yelling at her to go the fuck away or staying silent and pretending to sleep because that's all she wants to do really, is sleep.

But damn it, Max is using her concerned voice and Kate just can't ignore her, much less yell at her.

She sits up, calling through a yawn. "Yeah, I'm awake."

Max is quiet for a moment. She's probably expecting Kate to open the door as that would be the polite thing to do. Kate does not do this.

"Um," Max starts oh so eloquently. "Can I come in?"

Shit.

Kate bolts out of her bed and runs to the door. "J-just give me a minute." And that was a stupid thing to say because there's no way Max isn't going to notice the gaping fucking wound on her shoulder even if it doesn't feel too bad when Kate touches it and come to think of it, it doesn't actually feel like anything. Kate takes a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror.

It's gone.

There's nothing there. There's no redness, no teeth marks, no scratches on her arm, nothing. Kate feels the back of her neck, down her back, under her shirt but it's the same. If it wasn't for the lack of sheets on her bed, Kate might think last night really was just a nightmare.

What the fuck is going on?

Max knocks on the door again, bringing Kate back to the present. "You okay in there?"

Kate runs a hand through her hair and her fingers snag on the tangles. That's what she gets for not brushing it before she fell asleep. She opens the door. "Yeah, come in."

Max walks into the room wearing her pajamas and a tired smile. She can't have even showered yet, Kate thinks. "Hey." Her voice is so soft and thick with sleep, Kate can't quite process the word. But it's a very simple word with a very simple meaning so she says it back.

"Hey."

Max smiles so Kate smiles. Then Max looks away, shuffling her feet. Silence looms for several awkward seconds. Get a fuckinggrip, Kate Marsh. Idly, she wonders when she started swearing so much. "Sorry," she stutters out. She turns and looks for a brush if only to avoid looking at Max in her pajamas. "For the mess I mean. It's kind of a sty in here and I haven't had the chance to clean up yet." It's not. It's as immaculate as ever really but Kate can't quite reel her mouth in at the moment. "Or shower. So don't judge me for looking like garbage." She forces a laugh she hopes sounds genuine and wills herself to shut up.

Max visibly relaxes, wandering further into the room. "Be kind of hypocritical if I did that," she says.

Kate's laugh is a little more sincere this time. Chill, she tells herself. She finally finds her hair brush and works on making herself look borderline presentable.Max is nice. Max is your friend. There's no need to be so anxious.

Kate watches her wander the room in the mirror. She stops to say hi to Alice and look at the photos lying on Kate's desk. Max is nothing if not nosey. Kate finds it kind of endearing; it makes her feel cared for.

"Whoa what happened to this?"

Kate whips around at about a hundred mile per hour and tweaks her neck in the process. Shit, shit, shit. Did she find something else with blood on it? Kate runs through everything she threw out last night. Okay, sheets, clothes, shoes? Had she even been wearing shoes last night?

Max hold up Kate's alarm clock, which isn't bloody, thank God. It is, however, cracked down the middle where the two plastic halves have fallen away from each other.

In other words, it's broken. It's really, very broken.

"Hit the snooze a little too hard, huh, She Hulk?" Max laughs and Kate's sure if she had any idea who She Hulk was, she'd be laughing, too.

As it stands, Kate does not know who She Hulk is and can only blink at the broken alarm in shock. She couldn't have possibly hit it that hard.

Oh dear.

"Kate, you okay?" Max sets the clock aside hopefully to forget about it forever. "You've been kind of out of it all morning."

Kate forces herself not to snap that morning started less than thirty minutes ago, not that she could tell because her fucking alarm clock is fuckingbroken. And she broke it. Kate broke her alarm clock like a damn twig.

For the third time in less than twenty four hours, Kate has to wonder just what the fuck is going on.

Kate shakes her head. "I'm fine, just, uh," she struggles for a lie. What had she told Max last night again? She's so bad at this and Max is going to know and be so mad.

"Your nightmare?" Max asks.

Kate wants to hug her; she settles on a smile she hopes is weary. It's not too hard to make it look real. "Y-yeah, still shaken, you know? Didn't sleep much after I woke up." At least that part's not a lie.

Max nods, placing a hand on Kate's shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" She's using her concerned voice again and Kate almost tells her everything about last night – waking up covered in blood, the vanishing injuries, her eyes possibly turning gold – but she doesn't.

Kate couldn't say why, if someone asked her, it was so important that she keep this a secret. She just knows. Max would just think she's crazy anyway because really, injuries like that don't just disappear overnight and she already threw away all her proof. Even if Max did believe her, which she wouldn't because Max is a rational human being, what would become of Kate then? Max might keep the attack a secret if Kate asked but she couldn't not tell the principle about a dangerous animal in the forest.

What if they found the animal that attacked her? Would it explain all this weirdness? What if there isn't even an animal? Maybe she is just crazy.

No, she isn't crazy but people would think she is. Or worse, wonder how she healed so fast and turn her into an experiment.

Kate shakes her head. "I don't really remember it." She tries to smile. She's not technically lying so Max can't get mad at her. "And no worries about the alarm clock. It was cheap anyway. I can just use my phone like everyone else. It's just I already had it, you know?" Shut up, she screams in her head. She really needs to work on this lying thing (which she isn't doing anyway, not technically).

Max looks less than convinced but she knows when to drop it. It's one of the reasons Kate likes her. "If you're sure," she says. She gives Kate's shoulder a squeeze and it doesn't hurt at all. It really is like last night never happened. "I gotta shower," Max continues. "Stayed up way too late last night trying to finish our literature essay. I must reek." She laughs.

"You smell like vanilla," Kate says before she can stop herself and that's a weird thing to suddenly notice. She does, though. Max smells like vanilla and metal and it's a really weird combination. Kate doesn't hate it.

Max's brows arch. "I have vanilla candles in my room," she says. "Didn't think they were that strong."

"They're not," Kate replies a little too quickly. "I-I mean, it's nice. I like vanilla." Which is a dumb thing to say but at least she doesn't ramble. Kate counts it as a victory.

Max smiles. "Thanks."

It's silent again, but it's not awkward this time. It's not companionable either, just the natural end to a conversation. So, they make their excuses and part ways, promising to see each other in class.

As the door closes behind Max, Kate collapses back onto her bed. She can't go back to sleep but she doesn't want to go to class either. She doesn't really think she'll be able to concentrate as it is.

The day's just starting and she's already done with it.


Going to class might actually be the worst decision Kate ever makes (even worse than going for a stroll in the forest alone at night). She doesn't take a shower. She doesn't even set foot in the bathroom. As soon as she walks by, her nose is practically assaulted by the scents of artificial lavender and citrus and who the fuck thought peppermint would make a good body wash? It doesn't. It's too strong and sweet. It smells like a candy cane. The whole hallway smells like a Bath and Body Works vomited all over it (donotthink about vomit, Kate, not a good way to start the day).

So Kate doesn't shower. She runs back to her room, telling herself she already showered last night anyway, gets dressed, and leaves as quickly as possible. She forgets her bag because of course and refuses to go back for it. It hardly matters; she didn't do any homework anyway.

This doesn't stop her from worrying about it all the way to the cafeteria. She's halfway to convincing herself to brave the girls' dormitory when another scent catches her attention and it's infinitely better than Stale Candy Cane or whatever the hell peppermint body wash is called.

No, this is bacon and sausage sizzling on an open skillet. Scrambled eggs and fried potatoes and fresh toast and it's absolutely beautiful. Kate can hardly hear the warning bell over her stomach growling. She feels like she hasn't eaten in a week. She's pretty sure she's drooling and there's no way she's not going to be late for class. She also doesn't care. She makes a beeline for the cafeteria, running into no less than three people to whom she does not apologize in her haste. She has no time for politeness in the face of food – glorious, wonderful food.

So of course she runs into something bony less than ten feet from the doors. That bony something is actually a bony someone – Warren Graham to be exact, lanky and taller than Kate and on the floor. Oops.

"Sorry!" Kate says because she's not rude.She grabs Warren's hand without waiting for a reply and hauls him to his feet. "Sorry, are you okay?"

Warren stumbles a little. "It's cool. I'm pretty used to landing on my ass. Damn, though, you're stronger than you look. Think you dislocated my shoulder." He rotates his arm probably for show because he's smiling by now and Kate stopped caring some time ago actually. Her mouth waters in anticipation. She can already taste the bacon.

Warren keeps talking and Kate doesn't hear a word of it, far too busy willing him to fucking move, don't you see there's food in there?Her stomach growls again (though it feels like something tickles her throat and that's a weird sensation) and she might actually kill Warren if he doesn't get the fuck out of the way. She wants to grab him and make him move. Her fingers twitch.

"Hey, you okay?"

He's frowning at her and he just looks so earnest. Kate blinks. Had she actually wanted to hurt him?

She must look as horrified as she feels because Warren's frown deepens. He gives her shoulder a light pat. "You feeling okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Kate shakes her head. No, this is not okay. Nothing about this is okay.

She doesn't say that, though. "Y-yeah," she stutters out instead. "I'm fine. Just really hungry."

Warren's frown turns up into a sympathetic smile. "Tough break. Cafeteria closed like five minutes ago."

Wait, what? "It's closed?" But Kate can smell the bacon from here. It wafts through the hallway as if someone made it seconds ago, calling to her, taunting her.

Warren just nods. "Yeah, didn't you hear the warning bell?"

No, no Kate did not hear any bells. She woke up at the crack of fucking dawn, how could the cafeteria already be closed? Kate kind of wants to cry.Could this day get any worse?

"Hey, no sweat," Warren says and it takes a millisecond for the longest and loudest rant about the importance of breakfast to form on the tip of Kate's tongue. Luckily for both of them, it takes Warren less time to produce a muffin from his bag and toss it to her. She catches it easily and takes back every mean thought she's ever had about this perfect angel of a boy. "Snagged it for a snack later but I think you need it more."

Kate barely gets out a thank you before swallowing the muffin in two bites. It's banana nut, her favorite. Kate could kiss Warren right now. She settles for a grateful smile.

Warren looks equally pleased (and kind of fascinated). "Wow, you really were hungry," he says. "Come on, we're going to be late for Lit. Class. Gotta get our Bradbury on." He sounds less than enthused.

Kate snorts as the two begin the walk to their classroom. "I actually like the books we read in class."

Warren waves her off. "Yeah, yeah, books are great, don't burn 'em. It's all self-serving if you think about it."

Kate raises her brows. "How so?"

"Okay, so Bradbury was an author right? He made money writing books so obviously he's going to write a book about how books are great. Keeps him paid."

"I'm pretty sure the message in Fahrenheit 451 isn't just 'books are great'. It's about the dangers of a mass interconnected culture losing their humanity to technology."

"Yeah well, all I know is my smart phone lets me send pictures of kittens to anyone around the world. Sounds like Ray just hated happiness."

Kate doesn't point out the fact that the book was written in the late 50's. Maybe Warren actually has a point. She shrugs. "That's one way to look at it."

Conversation lulls as they enter the classroom. Kate snags an extra copy of their assigned reading before class starts and Alyssa loans her a pencil and piece of paper. Warren gets Ms. Hoida off topic again and they spend the whole lesson discussing the benefits of a technologically interconnected world that somehow ends with a robot apocalypse. Kate doodles little robots on her paper instead of actually taking notes and starts to think today might not be so bad after all.


She's wrong of course but really, what else is new?

The feeling that today might not suck as much as Kate originally though lasts about two minutes before the end of English. Despite being distracted the whole lesson, M. Hoida suddenly remembers they had essays due right before the bell rings. Kate doesn't have her essay and has never been good at handling the disappointed faces of authority figures. Nonetheless, she's allowed to hand it in by the end of the day for full credit and no one laughs. Kate counts her blessings. The list is woefully short.

As soon as Kate steps out of the classroom, sounds hit her from all sides. Lockers slam, heels click, and there are far too many people talking all at once. She catches words, sentences with no context.

"You going to the game tonight?"

"Man, I got so wasted."

"Did you finish the homework?"

"Oh man, I am so fucking dead."

Kate tries falling back into the classroom, hands over her ears. What the fuck is happening? Why is this happening? The PA system crackles and screams and it's so damn painful. She winces. Make it stop, she can barely hear herself think. Just make it stop.

Then there's a hand on her shoulder and the scent of vanilla fills the air. "Kate?" A soft voice rises above the chatter. Kate lets her hands fall away from her ears. "You okay?" It's Max, using her concerned tone.

Kate blinks. The noise fades into the background like it never happened. She turns to Max who looks as concerned as she sounds. "No, yeah, I'm okay," Kate replies. She's getting pretty used to saying that.

"You've been pretty out of it all morning," Max says. "Do you need to see the nurse?"

"No, I'm okay. Just been one of those mornings you know?" Kate tries to smile reassuringly. Max looks unconvinced. "I promise I'm okay. I just didn't get much sleep last night is all."

Max bites her lip but she nods and lets it drop. "If you say so. Would have been a good way to get out of PE, though."

Kate's stomach drops.

Oh no.

She must look properly horrified because Max starts to laugh. Kate pouts. "Laugh it up, Caulfield; you're worse at sports than I am."

"Debatable. To be fair, very few people here are actually good at sports."

"Well, it is an art school. I don't think most people are here on athletic scholarships."

"Better not let Zachary hear you say that." Max bumps Kate's shoulder again. "At least none of the football players are in our class. Can you say 'testosterone overload'?"

Kate snorts for the second time that day. "No, we just get to deal with Victoria and her groupies."

Max cringes as she should. Victoria isn't any better at physical exertion than anyone else in the class really (as their class mostly consists of future artists and scientists and not even one cheerleader or swimmer; they're more or less the bane of their overzealous teacher's existence) but she acts like it. She's competitive enough to pull it off, even, despite her lack of physical prowess. It's pretty much torture for anyone who ends up against her team. Or on it really.


She ends up playing on Victoria's team during dodge ball because the universe is clearly out to get her. For a moment, Kate has the very real urge to look skyward and ask God, "Really?" but she figures that would be petty. Divine plans and earthly tests of character and all that, but dodge ball with Victoria?Really?

It could be worse, Kate thinks to herself. Life is cruel, but their gym teacher does have a heart it would seem because somehow, she and Max end up together. "At least Victoria can't throw things at us without her team suffering," Max says. Kate's not sure that little factoid will stop her but one can hope.

And speak of the Devil. "Just stay out of the way," Victoria growls as she passes them and Kate doesn't need to be told twice.

Kate is momentarily stunned when the whistle sounds but Max grabs her wrist and drags her away in the confusion. Foam balls fly and sneakers squeak and really this game is way too intense for a bunch of high school seniors. Kate quickly decides that everyone needs to fucking chill.

The pair sticks close together, running around and at least trying to look like they're participating. This strategy goes okay for the first three minutes. Then Max gets hit in the hip and has to go sit down. Victoria makes a show of calling, "Way to go, Caulfield!" as if Max has single handedly doomed their team.

Kate's head whips back and forth, searching for refuge alone in a war zone. Don't be so dramatic, Kate, it's only gym class.

Kate can't explain the next thing that happens.

At some point in her frantic search for safe haven, someone lobs a ball directly at her head (which is an illegal move, Nathan Prescott). Kate swears she feels the ball coming. It's the only way to explain how she manages to twist a hundred and eighty degrees and catch the thing two inches from her nose. Kate blinks owlishly at the ball. Nathan looks equally shocked.

Now, if there's one adjective no one would ever use to describe Kate Beverly Marsh, it would be vengeful. She's a good Christian and she knows it's not her place to judge or decide who should be punished for wrongdoings. She knows that only one entity can decide what justice is deserved and it's not her.

But damn it if that ball isn't tempting and Nathan is standing right there looking totally flabbergasted.

So Kate throws the ball as hard as she can and hits Prescott square in his pretty little face. He goes down hard and it's probably the best moment of Kate's life or at least the highlight of her day.

Kate takes a quick glance at their teacher but he's too distracted breaking up a fist fight to notice the illegal hit. She smirks and picks up another ball.

This might be more fun than she thought.


For once that day, Kate is actually right.

She races around the gymnasium at top speed, stopping only to throw or pick up more ammunition. She weaves and jumps and never gets hit, never stops, never tires, and it's amazing. For the first time since she was a kid, she's actually having fun in Physical Education.

For once, Victoria is too stunned to talk shit. Max cheers her on from the sidelines and Kate feels like she's flying. Her heart beats in her ear, adrenaline coursing through her veins like a drug. She can barely hear their teacher call out, "That's it, Marsh! That's how you play the game!"

Kate loves it.

She loves it even more when Victoria gets hit and she and Stella take out the rest of the opposing team just as the bell sounds.

By the end of class, Kate is sweaty and red faced. The rest of her body catches up to her as her heart slows and she realizes just how sore she's going to be in the morning. For now, she couldn't care less.

Max runs up to her, positively beaming. "That was amazing!"

Kate laughs as some of her classmates give her pats on the back and their teacher calls out, "Good game, Marsh! Very good game!" Kate didn't even think he knew her name.

Max bumps her shoulder. "Seriously, where have you been hiding that for the past two weeks?"

Kate blushes, giving Max a shy smile. She's not used to so much attention. Usually she'd hate it but after such a shitty morning, it's kind of nice. It makes her feel like maybe something can go right today. "I don't know," she shrugs in response. "I guess I just had a lot of pent up energy, you know?"

"Pent up rage, is more like it. Maybe you really are She Hulk in disguise. You ever turn green sometimes?"

Kate really needs to learn who She Hulk is because she doesn't really sound like the kind of person one would associate with Kate.

Kate shakes her head. "I wouldn't say that. Though it was pretty satisfying nailing Nathan Prescott in the face."

Max actually bursts out laughing and Kate was wrong before. This is clearly the highlight of her day.


Kate showers in record time and ducks out of the locker room just as the scents of lemon and rose start to mix together to form an unholy combination of Great in Theory Not in Practice. It's better than the Stale Candy Cane and Rotting Flowers of the morning, but the whole thing proves too much for her nose to handle.

She tells Max she needs to grab her bag and hand in her English essay before lunch. They promise to meet up later and Kate heads back to the dorms alone.

The hallways are loud but the door to the courtyard is close. The September breeze offers a reprieve from all the sounds and smells. It gives Kate the chance to clear her head for once since she woke up.

She starts the slow and lazy walk to the girls' dormitory.

She lets her mind wander to last night. There's not much to think about, though. It's like a recording. One minute she's walking in the forest and then she's waking up covered in blood the next. She remembers some things – birds chirping, the scent of late blooming roses, even the wind in her hair. Then the sun sets and there's nothing. She hardly remembers the moon rising, let alone some animal attacking her.

Well, it was a full moon last night. All the weird things happen on full moons or so her sister says.

Kate shakes her head. You've been watching too many movies.

It is strange, though. If she hadn't woken up without a blanket, Kate might have thought the whole thing had been a dream. But her sheets were long gone along with her wounds and Kate can't help but wonder if maybe she'd just been sleepwalking when she'd thrown them out.

It actually seemed like a plausible explanation. If she'd been sleep walking and acting out the dream, maybe she would have thrown out clean sheets thinking they were blood soaked. But could she have really showered without waking up? Kate touches her hair. It certainly feels clean.

But no, hadn't Max confirmed she'd definitely woken up when she asked about her nightmare that morning? They'd clearly had a conversation last night. Kate doubts anyone could be that coherent while sleep walking.

So what then?

Maybe she just heals really fast? Kate can't remember a time she'd ever been severely injured in her childhood (her parents had made sure of that). She doesn't think she'd even fallen off her bike when she'd been learning to ride without training wheels. With nothing to compare to, it seems possible.

Kate almost laughs at herself because no, no it's really not. Those scratches needed surgery and her panicked mind hadn't even allowed her to ask for a doctor. She probably needed an EMT and yet, less than twelve hours later, she's walking around without as much as a bruise. Like everything is normal. Kate's gotten better at lying over the past day but she's not that good. This is not normal, no matter how much she tries to think it is.

There's something else, too. The whole other level of weirdness that is her apparently heightened senses.

That started last night, too, hadn't it? In the shower, her own body wash, a gentle peach scent, made her gag. She'd had to use her unscented facial soap. And then this morning, the girls' dorm smelled like one big hodgepodge of fruits and flowers and spices. It never bothered her before. Why now?

Weirder still is when she ran into Warren. It really smelled like breakfast had just started. Even from ten feet away, she could smell the eggs and bacon and everything, as if she were walking downstairs to her father in the middle of making Sunday breakfast. But the cafeteria had been closed for five minutes.

Which reminds her of the other weirdness. She really thought about shoving Warren. She'd really been ready to hurt him, wanted to even, if it would get him out of the way. That thought make her stomach churn.

Kate's not a violent person. She can't even kill the spiders that sneak into her room. She's never been in a fight, not even with her sisters. The thought of violence sets her heart racing and not in a pleasant way, in the anxious kind of way, the way that makes her hands shake and legs turn to jelly.

Kate is not a violent person.

But then, what was that in PE not twenty minutes ago? She'd actually hit Nathan freaking Prescott in the face with a dodge ball. And she liked it.

Admittedly, he did deserve it but still, it's the principle. Kate's never hit anyone, not even with a foam ball during a government mandated physical education class.

Of course, then there's the fact that she caught the ball in the first place. Kate really can't explain it. One second, she's looking around, totally alone and panicked, and the next, there's a ball in her hands. She didn't even hear it coming. She just caught it. Kate's almost positive her reflexes are not that good.

She doesn't even want to think about the incident in the hallway after Lit class.

Kate sighs and opens the door to her room. Alice greets her with an excited stomp and Kate decides maybe she'll just skip lunch and hang out with her bunny. Her bunny is lovely and quiet and doesn't smell like body wash.

Kate kicks off her shoes and throws herself onto her bed. Just a short nap, she tells herself.

She sleeps through her next two classes.


Kate wakes up at three fifty in the afternoon to two new texts and has to run to hand in her essay before the day is over.

When the four o'clock bell rings, Kate wants to cry from sheer joy. Finally, this shit storm of a day is officially over and she can enjoy her weekend in contemplative solitude.

Head down, earbuds in, Kate manages to avoid social interaction with nigh unprecedented skill (not that she's ever been a social butterfly to begin with but that's neither here nor there). In truth, Kate's just grateful for the day's end. The hallways don't seem nearly as loud with music to muffle the voices. It's going to be okay, she tells herself.

She checks her messages – one from Max, one from Warren, and none from her parents asking why she hadn't gone to her afternoon classes. She knows she'll need to think of an excuse eventually but not right now.

What could she really say, though? "Sorry, Mom, I was mauled by an animal last night and didn't sleep much. Hospital? Oh no need. I was better by morning!" Yeah, right. She'd definitely be hospitalized after that and not for the bite on her shoulder.

Kate heaves a sigh. Something definitely happened in that forest. Kate wishes she'd had the forethought to save her bloody sheets or take a picture. At least then someone would have to believe her.

Maybe it's better if she just doesn't think about it. Whatever animal was out there last night is probably gone by now anyway. Her newly sensitive ears and nose is all probably just a reaction to stress. Hypervigilance, she thinks. It totally explains all the weirdness in gym class and freaky healing powers.

Totally.

Kate can't be bothered to reply to her messages but she reads them nonetheless. Warren's doesn't need a response anyway, reading, "Yo heard you knocked Nathan Prescott on his ass in Phys Ed today! I bow down to your greatness, Kate Marsh. Wish I'd been there to see it, though!"

Kate smiles a little. She has a sneaking suspicion that he's not going to let this story die any time soon.

Max's is much different. Kate can almost hear her gentle voice as she reads, "Hey, Kate. Didn't see you at lunch. Thought you might have gone to your room to pass out. Don't worry, I covered for you. Feel better. XOXO." Kate kind of loves Max.

She very nearly makes it to the courtyard without attracting any attention so it only makes sense that less than two feet from the door, she knocks into someone. That someone spits out, "Watch where you're fucking going," because that someone is Nathan fucking Prescott.

Really?

Calm down, he probably doesn't even notice it's you. Kate mutters out a hopefully sincere "sorry" and tries to side step him.

The universe takes this prime opportunity to remind Kate that she's not that lucky. Nathan does in fact notice who she is and seems quite perturbed by her presence. No, perturbed really isn't the right word. Fucking pissed probably works better.

So maybe he remembers PE.

He grabs Kate's arm and yanks her back. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" His voice is positively dripping with venom.

"I was kind of hoping to go back to my room but clearly someone didn't fill his quota of douchebaggery today." The words leave Kate's mouth before she can stop them and yeah that's probably not going to go over so well with Nathan.

For the second time today, Kate's right. Nathan's expression switches from shock to rage so fast, Kate surprised he doesn't give himself whiplash. Maybe he does and just ignores it. He does look vaguely pained (but not in the way that makes Kate feel bad, more in the murderous kind of way). He all but bears his teeth and Kate feels the hairs on her neck stand on end.

"One lucky shot in PE and suddenly you're big man on campus," he growls. "News flash, little girl, I own this school. So don't think you can talk to me like that."

The rational part of Kate's mind screams at her to just be quiet and he'll get bored and let her leave. It wills her to lower her eyes and say she's sorry even though she isn't. Nathan squeezes her arm painfully.

Suddenly, he's against the wall, pinned in place by hands too small for the strength they possess. Lockers clatter in the most satisfying way when his head snaps back, making painful contact. Distantly, Kate realizes her earbuds popped out some time earlier. She hardly notices. A deep, throaty growl reaches her ears.

Nathan struggles, throwing punches and kicks wildly. Kate's grip tightens. There's flesh under her nails.

"Let go of me, you crazy bitch!"

Kate can't hear him over the sound of her own blood pumping. Blood pumping, spilling. Skin tearing. She wants to. She wants to.

"What the hell?"

"Kate?"

Soft, gentle tones, she sounds so concerned. Vanilla fills the air. Kate blinks.

Oh God, what am I doing?

She throws herself away from Nathan as if she's been burned. Her mind lapses into oh God on repeat. She could have… She was about to…

"Kate, are you all right?" Max's hand is on her shoulder like a weight keeping her on Earth.

"The fuck do you mean is she all right? She's the one who attacked me!"

"Chill, dude, you're fine."

"Like Hell! Did you see her?"

The conversation continues unheard as Max leads a petrified Kate outside. The September breeze hits her like a literal breath of fresh air, rapidly clearing her still foggy mind. It's becoming very apparent what might have happened if Max and her friend (Warren, Kate's mind supplies) hadn't shown up.

"What happened in there?" Max asks and Kate's not sure what to tell her. She settles for the truth. Mostly.

"I was walking back to my dorm when I bumped into him. He grabbed me and I just kind of shoved him."

"Against the wall?" Kate can only nod. "Kate, you looked ready to strangle him."

Kate thinks she would have done something much, much worse. It's a thought that terrifies her. She clenches her fists to stop her hands from shaking. Her nails dig into her palms.

"Can't really blame her." Warren steps through the doors and reenters the conversation. "Guy deserves a good beat down."

"Not from me." Kate shakes her head so ready for this conversation to be over. "Look, I'm really just over this whole day. I'll talk to you about it later, though, okay Max?"

Max, bless her, drops the subject. "Okay but I wanna know what's going on, okay? You've been acting seriously weird all day."

Kate nods. "We'll talk about it later. Promise."

They share a small smile. Kate tells herself it's going to be okay. She's not sure she means it.

"Yeah, yeah, you two go have your secret girl talk," Warren says. "I'll just be over here thinking about monster trucks and football and stuff."

Max arches an amused brow. "Stuff?"

"You know, guy things. Football is a guy thing and I am a guy, you know."

Kate has to hold a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She smells blood.

Max nods skeptically. "Uh huh, right."

Warren actually pouts. "Hey, I'm totally a guy! It even says so on my driver's license."

"Oh I believe that. Just not that you actually know the rules of football."

"Sure I do. A bunch of large men get together and when one of them catches the ball, they all tackle him. It's how straight men express their homosexual desires with as few boners as possible."

Kate takes that as her cue to leave. "Well, you two have fun discussing the homoerotic undertones of football. I'm going to my room."

Thankfully, nothing else interrupts Kate on her way back. She falls into bed, emotionally drained and ready to forget today ever happened.


The forest is far too quiet. Slow footsteps echo, breaking the silence like crashing thunder. Not even the wind dares disturb the trees on a night like this.

She's alone or so she hopes. The sun, her only company, is fading quickly, giving way to inky blackness. Silvery light overtakes golden warmth. The forest looks suddenly very ethereal. It's frightening.

It is far too quiet.

Footsteps echo but are they hers? No, it's something else. Something follows behind her, close, too close. She quickens her pace. The moon is too bright and the night is too cold and everything is too much. Her heartbeat is too loud in her ears. She knows the something can hear it.

A growl signals an attack. She falls. She screams. Flesh tears, muscle, arteries, tendons ripped to shreds as easy as tissue paper. She screams and screams and blood pours. So much blood, warm and thick and fresh.

She screams.

She stops.

The forest is quiet.


On the morning of September twenty first, a woman is found dead in the Blackwell Academy parking lot.


Inspired by the song Human by Daughter and also my love for all things werewolf. I'm hoping to post once a week or maybe once every other week depending on how fast I can finish the last few chapters. I do at least have up to chapter 6 complete so hopefully there won't ever be more than a couple weeks without an update.