THE PACK

A Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends fic by Grand High Idol

Disclaimer: I do not own Foster's, nor any of its characters. The other characters and events of this story, however, are purely extracted from my own thoughts.

WARNING: This story contains traces of graphic violence, drug and alcohol abuse, an implied rape scene, extreme subject matter, and profanity. Viewer discretion is advised.

I.

PRESENT DAY

It starts with aggression; a hunger for power.

And then it goes from there.

Such phenomenon was hardly believable, even though it had been happening for centuries on end. Generation after generation, they never died out. They continued to live on, eyeing their victims, lusting for blood and sensuality. By the light of the moon, throats were torn out, victims were left ripped to shreds only to be discovered by the police the next morning. They blamed the situations on wild animals from the nearby forest—after all, it was a fairly secluded town, the town of Lunar Lake, and they knew as well as any inhabitant that the forest beyond the town possessed a variety of dangerous creatures. The most common victims were drunkards that had wandered too far from the town and into the woods, never to be seen. Some had disappeared, others had been found torn apart from throat to groin.

Then it stopped.

For awhile, anyway.

And the inhabitants assumed that it was safe, so they allowed their children out after dark, lifted the curfew, and allowed their dogs to romp around their yards.

Such was the situation of Ms. Haddenfold, an elderly woman whom had lived on her own for quite some time. The only thing that had kept her company all of her years was her dog, O'Malley, a rather tenacious Rottweiler breed that could care less for any of the other townsfolk. He had already bitten and drawn blood several times, but Haddenfold had kept it a secret for quite awhile, now. She would never give up O'Malley for the world, not until his dying day.

It was the beginning of June when it happened. Haddenfold was busy brewing a pot of honey tea to calm her nerves; she knew that the children of Lunar Lake would be out of school soon, and she was very prone to loud noises—the noise that the kids made notwithstanding. She had let O'Malley out at dusk to run around and to take care of "business", and had fallen asleep on her couch shortly after her cup of tea.

She was awakened by the sounds of growling and barking coming from outside her front porch door. At first she thought that O'Malley was in a fight with another dog—there were many strays that seemed to come and go—but as the noises grew more intense, she braced herself in her seat, listening to the horrendous racket going on outside.

She heard O'Malley's barking first, followed by a low growl that was not coming from her dog. She then heard a series of growlings, gnashings and barkings, so loud, so intense. She placed her hand on her breast as she finally heard a loud cry—the cry of an animal in pain—then, with a gargling yipping sound, the cries died out. A few ripping and tearing sounds were heard, followed by a few snuffles and growls, then everything was silent.

She didn't want to go outside. She really didn't. But she had to know what had happened out there, and whether or not O'Malley was all right. Shaking as she stood up, she walked over to the kitchen and withdrew a flashlight from one of the drawers, the object quivering in her hand as she started toward the front porch door. Grasping the knob, she flicked on the light and swung the door open.

She looked down. Traces of blood were on the steps, and the front door had several claw-scratches on it—almost as if something were desperately trying to get in. Below the stairs a trail of blood flattened the grass, ending somewhere near the bushes. She quaked in fear, but swallowed it and began to descend down the steps, keeping the flashlight locked on the trail.

Clutching her bathrobe tightly, she continued to follow the trail until she saw something on the ground. At first thinking that it was one of O'Malley's mangled chew-toys, she shone her flashlight on the object, then gave a silent scream of terror.

A bloodied foreleg.

A bloodied dog's foreleg, with markings that she could easily recognize.

Please, God, no…she thought to herself, closing her eyes to let the wave of nausea sweep past her like a putrid breeze. It was over…they said that it was over…

Even though she was reluctant to see the rest, she continued to follow the trail until she approached the bushes. When she saw what lay before her, bloodied, disemboweled and partially eaten, she screamed—and this time it was anything but silent. Lights flickered on in the nearby houses, and several of the neighbors—still clad in their pajamas—rushed out to see what the problem was.

Haddenfold was now in hysterics as she rushed out into the road, her eyes wild and her face pale with fear. "O'Malley!" she screamed hysterically, as the neighbors stared, watching. "It got O'Malley! Oh my GOD…!"

From a house down the road, a young boy with dirty-blond hair quickly leapt from his window, landing in the bushes, then ran toward the house adjacent to him, climbing the ivy trellis to the window above it. Using one hand to hold himself steady, he rapped on the window with the other.

There was a moment of silence, then a dark-haired boy, about the same age, answered the call, opening the window to allow the blonde to crawl in. "God, what is it this time?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "I was asleep until you started banging on the damn window."

The blonde seemed excited. "They've returned," he said, his eyes wide. "O'Malley is now officially dog-chow. Couldn't you hear Ms. Haddenfold out there? She's yellin' like the dickens."

"What?" The dark-haired boy was suddenly awake now. He took a seat on his mattress. "But I thought that they'd left—migrated, if you wanna say that."

"I thought so, too," the blonde told him, "but it was only for a season. Now they've come back to Lunar Lake to raise some Hell. Their first token of the night was O'Malley." He thought a moment. "I know that not too many people liked O'Malley, but…still…"

"'But still' what?" the dark-haired boy asked, folding his arms.

"…I'm trying to say that they don't usually prey on small game, like dogs. Human flesh it what they crave…human blood is what they drink." He raised his head up toward the dark-haired boy. "I'm going to bet you my butt that it was Rodney who did that."

"Rodney?" The dark-haired boy blinked in confusion. "How can you be sure?"

"They've been wanting to get rid of Rodney ever since the last time they came here. To them, Rodney is obsolete and therefore needs a purpose. They probably sent him out to take care of that warning message…and probably something else."

"Like what?"

"Well…" He thought a moment. "I know what their motive is, and summer is usually the time when people from the urban and suburban towns come here for rest and relaxation. They're probably going to find another teen and add him to their group, and use Rodney to do it."

"But why Rodney?"

"What did I say earlier?" The blonde's eyes narrowed, then he lowered his head and slowly shook it.

"It's going to be a dark summer for Lunar Lake," he murmured softly. "I can sense it…"

"Terrence, stop!"

Mac ran as fast as his legs would carry him as he leapt over the couch, his older brother in hot pursuit. Being larger and stronger, Terrence easily cleared the couch and tackled Mac to the ground. The two siblings tumbled over one another until they finally hit the television set, causing the wall to vibrate and several precious items to quiver in their places.

Now with the little boy firmly in his grasp, the older boy began noogying Mac—rather hard, at that; the boy could feel it down to his skull. He tried to gasp out for him to stop, but that only resulted in Terrence squeezing him tighter. He was just about to attempt to free himself when there was a click of the lock, and the door opened.

The boys' mother looked down on them with a disgruntled expression. "Fighting again, I see," she sighed, walking over to the kitchen in order to set the groceries down. She heaved a deep breath. "I honestly thought that with Bloo gone, you two would settle down."

"Guess you were wrong," Mac muttered under his breath, coldly; Terrence released his hold on him and sprang up onto the couch.

"Aw, come on, Mom," he responded innocently. "We were just playing."

"If by 'playing' you mean 'suffocating me', you've hit that nail on the head," Mac snapped in response. Terrence growled at him angrily and hiked up his shirtsleeve, causing the little boy to fall silent; the angry look on his face still existed.

The boys' mom heaved another deep sigh, then ran her hand through her hair. "Perhaps I'm looking at this from the wrong angle," she said to herself. "Perhaps you two are only acting this way because you've been pent up in this apartment for so long."

"School let out like, a week ago," Terrence said, nodding. "It's frikking boring here, okay? What am I supposed to do, lock myself in my room and try not to have a damned heatstroke!"

"Terrence Kraigen!" Their mother slammed a fist on the table angrily. "You know very well I don't like that language in this house!"

Terrence rolled his eyes. "Sor-ree," he muttered sarcastically; he then flopped over onto the couch and placed the pillow over his head. Mac approached his mother with light caution, then gently tugged on her skirt.

His mother sighed and turned down to look at him. "What is it, Mac?" she asked.

"Mom, maybe what you said was right," the little boy replied, trying to straighten his hair where Terrence had mussed it up. "We have been pent up in this apartment a really long time. Maybe…" His eye caught a magazine lying down near the front door, he rushed over, picked it up, and ran back, slipping it up on the table. "Maybe what we need is a vacation. I remember that you rented that cabin out in this vacation spot about fifteen years ago, when you and Dad…well…" He shuffled one foot across the floor and hung his head, blushing slightly. "You know."

His mother eyed the picture, and a smile played on her lips. "Ah, yes, Lunar Lake," she sighed, hugging the magazine to her chest. "I remember back in '90…it was one of the most romantic vacation spots there were." She looked down at Mac. "Perhaps you're right, Mac…perhaps we should go back to the cabin at Lunar Lake for the summer; get some fresh air and open space for you and Terrence." She placed her hand to her mouth. "But oh, how dusty it must be after ten years of abandonment…!"

"It won't be a problem, Mom," Mac replied, giving her a quick hug. "I'll fix up everything." His eyes glittered with excitement as he asked, "When can we go?"

"Well, it'll take me awhile to find the keys amongst all my files, and we still need to pack for the evening, so we can leave tomorrow afternoon, I'm estimating." She checked her watch. "You boys had best start packing…we are spending the entire summer there, after all."

"What!" Terrence exclaimed in disbelief, tossing the pillow off of his head and flipping over as their mother quickly hurried down the hallway to her room in order to retrieve the keys—and her belongings. "Don't tell me that we're going to be down by some cruddy lake for the entire summer!"

"Come on, Terrence, it'll be fun," Mac replied smugly, crossing his arms. "Besides, they probably have just your type of crowd down there."

"Pfft! And what might that be?" the ravened-haired boy snorted.

Mac's smile broadened. "Hicks."

"Oh, you son of a—" Terrence began, but Mac had already run for the door. Growling, he slumped down against the couch back, fury still tingling in his spine and the desire to hurt Mac still fresh in his mind. Never matter, he thought, the kid would be back. And when he did come back, he was going to get the beating of a lifetime for that petty little insult…

"Mac!"

"Hey Bloo!" Mac rushed up to give his friend a hug. "Guess what?"

"What? You found a new world record to try out? You got me some candy? You found another crazy girlfriend that we can play with!"

Mac folded his arms. "Bloo, I already told you, she wasn't my girlfriend," he replied firmly; his features then broadened with excitement again. "I'm going on a vacation!"

"A vacation? No way!" Bloo exclaimed. "So, where you going? Europe? Mexico? An abandoned city that no one has ever seen before in their life?"

"No…ah…actually, I'm just going out of town." He rubbed his sleeve in slight embarrassment as they reached the lounge. "You know…out to Lunar Lake. Mom already has arrangements made and everything."

"Lunar Lake?" a voice repeated, and soon enough Eduardo's monstrous head loomed over the back of the couch. "But isn't that the place where the killer, he go crazy and he kill everyone, and es scary, and no one make it out ALIVE?" He trembled in his seat. "Don't go, Senor Mac, please don't go!" He pleaded, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Co, co co co coco," Coco's voice responded from the other side of the couch.

"Yeah, Ed, that was Crystal Lake," Wilt's voice repeated. "And besides, you know, that movie was all make-believe anyway. There really aren't zombie serial killers like that, you know."

"Yeah, Ed," Mac agreed, nodding. "Lunar Lake is just an out-of-town country-woodland place. My mom has a cabin there."

"Oh." Eduardo sank back down into his seat, his eyes shifting from Mac to Coco to Wilt. "I…I know that."

"So, how long will you be gone?" Bloo asked, taking a seat on the couch; Mac crawled up next to him. "I gotta let Frankie and Mr. H know so that they can make arrangements and all that fancy stuff."

Mac chewed his lower lip. "Um…all summer," he replied slowly.

Bloo's mouth dropped open in alarm. "All summer? Without me?" Mac slowly nodded his head. "But Maaaaaac, I'm your bestest best friend ever! Didn't we agree on that a long time ago?"

"I know, Bloo, but if you came with us my mom would flip!" Mac explained. "Besides, everything's already been planned out; we're leaving tomorrow afternoon, maybe even earlier than that."

"But who's gonna stay here and play with me?" Bloo asked helplessly; Mac sighed and slipped down from the couch.

"I don't know," the little boy responded. "I'm sorry I can't take you. Just…just be good while I'm gone, okay? Don't cause any more pipe leaks or gas explosions or anything like that."

"Mac, wait!" Bloo exclaimed, but Mac was already out the door. Heaving a deep sigh, the blue blob sank down onto the couch, his mouth trembling, a sad expression on his face. Wilt frowned as well, then patted him on the back.

"It's okay, buddy," he consoled, sighing. "I'm sure that Mac will write you every month—maybe every week, even. And when he comes back, I'm sure that you'll have a great time, you wait and see."

"Wait and see?" Bloo repeated angrily, leaping off the couch. He faced the three other Friends, his arms folded and an expression of determination set upon his face. "Blooregard Q. Kazoo never 'waits and sees'. I'm going with Mac, no matter what." He slammed a blobby fist into his other hand.

"I'm sorry, but how are you gonna do that?" Wilt asked, shrugging in utter confusion. "You heard what Mac said—if his mom finds out you're there, she'll go nuts!"

Bloo smiled, then rubbed his hands together. "Well then, I'll just have to be extra sneaky," he replied, a coy expression creeping up across his features…

"Mom, I'm ready to go!" Mac called from the front door, tightly holding his suitcase in one hand, his backpack hung over one shoulder. "Are you and Terrence done packing yet?"

"I'm almost ready, dear," the boys' mother called from her bedroom, "I just need to find my pager and I'll be all set."

"Mom, we're going on vacation to relax, remember?" the little boy responded, folding his arms. "I don't see why you need to bring all your work stuff along with you. I'm sure that someone at the bank will be happy to fill your position."

"I know, I know." She laughed. "But you can never be too careful. They might need to contact me in case of an emergency, which is why I'm bringing my pager, cellphone, and laptop. I'm sure that you'll find plenty to do up there, either way. It's a wonderful place."

She shut her suitcase, then looked around the room. "Mac…where's your brother? We're going to be late if he doesn't hurry up."

"He locked himself in his room," Mac responded, jabbing a finger in the direction of the hallway. "I don't know why he isn't enthusiastic about going. Lunar Lake sounds like a great place!"

Mac's mother's smile faded, and she heaved a deep sigh. "I think I know why," she said quietly; she then turned to face her younger son. "Mac, be a dear and start up the car. I'll talk to Terrence."

She tossed him the car keys, then turned and headed toward the direction of Terrence's room. Leaning against the wall, she rapped on the door with one finger. "Terrence?"

"Fuck off."

"Terrence Kraigen, I already told you that I do not tolerate that language, young man!" The boys' mother stood stiff, firm. "Now open the door this instant!"

Mac decided it was best to leave while he still could, and quickly swung his backpack over his shoulder to hurry down to the apartment lot. After some time, the lock finally clicked and the boys' mother opened the door.

Terrence was seated at the edge of the bed, glaring down at the carpet and holding a pillow tightly against his chest. An angry expression was set upon his features, but she knew what he was really thinking. Sighing, she walked over and sat next to him.

"Terrence, honey…" she began, but Terrence brushed her off.

"How dare you," he growled, leering in her direction. "How dare you make me go back there! After Dad died? You think I'm going to tolerate that!"

"Terrence, I know that you share some fond memories of that place with your father, but he's gone now." Terrence's anger faded, and he stared down at the floor, his mouth wavering slightly. "And we all have to get over that. It was five years ago that he died and nothing in this world is going to bring him back." She ran her fingers through his ebony hair. "You have to learn to let go."

The young teen sniffed slightly, then knocked his mother's hand away before getting to his feet, his arms crossed angrily. "Can't I—" his voice broke; he shivered slightly before beginning again: "Can't I spend the summer at Rusty's house? He and I were planning to—"

"No, Terrence. My mind's made up." She rose to her feet. "I know that Rusty is your best friend, but you are not spending the summer in a stingy foster home."

Terrence growled at her again, eyes flashing in anger, then yanked his suitcase out from underneath all of the clutter in his closet. "Fine, Mom," he snapped, an obvious trace of anger still in his voice, "Have it your way. But I refuse to change my attitude out there. You hear me? I refuse."

"Very well," she heaved, placing her hands upon her waist, "but you're only bringing this down on yourself. Until you learn that your father won't come back, you'll be in your own private prison forever more." And with that, she left.

Shame tactic, he thought to himself as he tossed an extra overjacket inside his suitcase. Nice one, bitch…

"Mac!"

The little boy looked up and smiled as a familiar figure dashed toward the car, whisked him up and began noogying him playfully. "How's my little fearless zombie-fighter doin'?"

Mac laughed. "Rusty, stop!" he exclaimed, still giggling as the teenager set him down on the ground. Whisking a hand up to brush a strand of dirty-blond hair behind his ear, he looked down at the little boy, smiling, before leaning against the car.

"So, what's going on?" he asked, rapping at the car windshield. "You guys going on a trip or something?"

Mac nodded, then moved around the car to the trunk. "I'm afraid so," he replied, tossing his bag in without getting a further look at what was inside before shutting it, "And we'll be gone all summer. Terrence included." He smiled weakly. "I know how much he wanted to spend the summer with you…he'll miss you, all right."

The normally carefree teenager frowned. "Oh…" he removed himself from against the car and sighed deeply. "I would tag along, but…you know…" He looked around, then whispered softly, "Duty never takes a vacation."

Mac nodded in agreement; he knew Rusty's dirty little secret and he wasn't about to tell it to the world. "I know," he replied. He looked up just in time to see his mother, along with Terrence, walk out. "Uh-oh. Mom's coming. You'd better split."

The blonde nodded. "Will you at least tell Terrence where I am?" he asked. "I…uh, I want to say goodbye to him for a sec."

Mac smiled broadly, knowing what he was getting at, then nodded. "I'll let him know." He turned around just as his mother and brother approached. "Hi, Mom!"

"Hello, Mac," she said, smiling. Her gaze traveled to the blonde, and her features faded a bit. "And…hello, Rusty." Rusty waved back cheerfully, then grinned weakly.

"Guess it's too late to split, huh?" he said, to Mac in particular. "Ah, well, I should just be on my way…but, ah…Mrs. Kraigen?"

"What?"

"May I…say goodbye to Terrence? You know, in…like, private?"

Mac's mother pondered for a moment, unsure of what to do—she had never been fond of Rusty, mainly because she felt he was keeping something from her—something dangerous. And indeed he was, but he knew when and when not to use it; that was what she didn't know. Finally, she shook her head.

"Fine," she replied. "But don't stray too far, okay? We have to be in the car in a minute or less."

"Thanks!" Rusty exclaimed; he then ran off toward the back of the lot, motioning for Terrence to follow. The raven-haired teen obediently followed, and, once they were alone in the lot, Rusty drew the young teen into his arms for a quick kiss. It wasn't a long-lasting liplock; they broke away after about five seconds, even though they still kept their arms on each other's bodies.

"God, I'm gonna miss you," Rusty sighed. He looked out toward the forest. "Damn things just don't know when to stop, especially in the summertime over here. Just their climate."

"Yeah, I was hoping I could help," Terrence replied, snuggling against Rusty's jacket. "My mom is such a frigging bitch…"

"Hey, at least you have one." Rusty frowned. "Bitch or not, I'd give anything for a mother like yours. I've been at that foster home for fifteen, almost sixteen years now, and no one's bothered to adopt me."

"I like you that way." Terrence grinned coyly. "Promise not to eye anyone else while I'm away?"

"Promise," Rusty replied, grinning back.

"Terrence! Get in the car! We're leaving!"

Mac's voice echoed through the lot as Terrence sighed, then pulled away from Rusty, frowning. "Well, that's the bus," he sighed, turning around. "I'd better get going."

"I'll see you in the fall!" Rusty called after him, waving, as the teen ran toward the car. "At high school! Go Jackson Mules…!"

"Well, this is it."

Mac's mother sighed in content as she eyed the cabin that she had begun her first honeymoon in, way back in 1990. It was a nice cabin; one of those two-story deals with a large picture window and a fireplace. The roof was tinted green, and there were both steps and a ramp leading up to the entrance. Off to the side was a glass sliding door, which led out onto the porch.

And all this in the middle of the woods—although town was only about a five-minute walk away. Terrence eyed the cabin sadly, remembering when he and Dad had gone fishing out on the lake when he was three. They had worked together to catch the biggest of big catfish, and it was even displayed in the bar nearby…he sniffed a little but refused to open up to his emotions.

Mac was amazed. "Wow!" he exclaimed, running up toward the cabin. He ascended the steps. "This is the most amazing house ever! No wonder you're always working to pay for it!"

Mac's mother nodded, smiling. "There are three separate bedrooms, as well," she told him. "You boys will each get a room of your own, and I'll get a room of my own—just like at home."

"Only we've got a fireplace! And taxidermy animals! And an actual gas stove! And everything's made of wood!" Mac said excitedly, jumping up and down. "Oh, please please PLEASE can we go inside!"

Mac's mother laughed, then placed a hand on his forehead, trying to calm him down. "Of course we can, honey," she replied, "But first let's get organized. I'm going to trail the woods looking for any signs that we should lock our doors. Terrence, sweetie, you go into town and try and make some new friends, okay, please?" Terrence rolled his eyes and began his walk down the path into town. "Mac, while we're busy, you can unpack the bags and bring them inside the house. The house-key should be under the welcome mat where I always kept it."

"Okay, Mom!" Mac called to her as she wandered into the woods. Running up to the front seat, he quickly yanked the car keys out of the steering wheel lock and ran to the trunk. He fiddled around with the keys in his excitement before he finally located the right key, stuck it in the lock, and twisted.

The trunk popped open, revealing luggage—and something—or in this case someone—else. Mac's mouth dropped open as he stared at the thing that was lounging on top of the bags, playing around with his mother's calculator.

"Oh, hey Mac!" Bloo called to him, waving; Mac's expression refused to change. The blob continued to tap on the calculator. "Man, this is the worst videogame ever."