I own nothing but the story.


"Believe it now, Zane?" I hadn't meant to sound snooty or indignant upon our entrance back into the hideout, but I couldn't help but feel a morbid sense of pride in knowing that our experiences hadn't been a series of misunderstandings misconstrued into the supernatural.

"Two accounts of a beast in the woods does not make it our killer," Zane refused to look at me, and I noticed the pink in his cheeks that signified his anger.

I think he knew what the explanation was, which I was quick to point out: "You said it yourself that their accounts would be what solves this mystery of ours," I dropped with a flop on top of the couch, "Think about it—their stories match ours down to the last detail; how can you be so dismissive of them?"

Zane suddenly threw Cole's folder against the table, sending its contents flying and refusing to answer my question.

I found that alright, because I came up with an answer of my own: "Is it because what they said doesn't match up with your narrative?" I almost smiled upon finishing the sentence; I knew Zane wouldn't care for his own ideas being used against him.

Zane turned to glare at me, the room temperature practically dropping under his icy gaze. Undeterred, I cocked up my chin and tilted my head back, daring him to protest my statement. He just turned back around, however, and let me alone.

Nothing more was said when Lloyd finally entered the room, having returned from the front, where he appeased his frantic mother.

"You guys good?" he called.

We hummed various noises of approval, the sounds coming off far more downtrodden than either of us likely anticipated. Lloyd walked over and slumped into the cushions next to me, lips pursed. A moment passed, and all was quiet, until he whispered, "I knew there was a monster out there. I've always known. Mom always told me not to believe those stories, but that's too many coincidences to lead up to nothing."

"We still do not know," Zane muttered.

I rolled my eyes, turning to Lloyd, "I think there's a monster out there, too."

"I know you do."

"It's the only thing that explains it, Zane," I looked at my friend's, the stranger's, back.

"Explains what, may I ask?" Zane sounded miserable.

I snorted, "Everything."

The only thing we'd left to learn was the what and how. If there was something out there, what was it? How had it managed to get there? What was it doing, and how was it living? And, most importantly, what now?

"What now?" Lloyd echoed, seemingly having read my mind.

What were we to do with this information? Though this proved that there was something there, it wasn't as though we had any means of investigating the claims.

We looked to Zane, a boy who had answers to everything, even if they weren't always correct, but he still faced away from us, his eyes on Cole's scattered folder.

A boundless moment passed, and I turned to Lloyd, "I think we should call it a night."

It would seem odd to try and sleep after everything we'd learned today, but what else was there for us to do? Lloyd looked between us, then blinked, nodded, and stood. He offered a small goodnight on his way back up the stairs, taking the time to look back at us another time before disappearing.

All was quiet.

Though I was happy over all that we'd learned today, the victory this seemed to be was a hollow one, because even now things felt incomplete. Even now, pieces were missing in this massive jigsaw.

Zane turned, vacant eyes finding the couch. I got up, so he could sit. I hoped tomorrow that he would know what to do. Even if he didn't—or rather, wouldn't—believe the possibility of a monster in the woods, he would at least come up with something for us to do with the information we learned today. Something to take us forward.

Now, we had nothing.

The peace I desired when I went to sleep didn't come.


The woods aren't jagged today.

That is the first thing I notice.

Fog billows out from behind grey trees, shrouding the world in a chilly haze. I look towards the sky, also grey. A round sun just barely peeks through.

I know that Cole is there before he makes a sound, and I turn, giving him a smile.

"You're here," I say.

He looks different from last time. Barefoot on the leaves, he stands, slumped, shoulders sagged. It is not the confident gait he used to sport, and the smile I donned drops within a second.

"Are you alright?" I ask, stepping forward.

His eyes are red at the rims, but unlike before, when they were bright and full of light, these are sick, tired, scared. The corners of his lips are slightly downturned, not exactly a frown, but hardly an expression to ease my mind. I take another step forward, but he is no closer to me.

Panic striking, I break into a run, tearing through frosted underbrush, tripping over massive roots, but he remains far from my reach. Tears spring to my eyes, but I turn away, refusing to let them fall down my cheeks.

"Cole!" I call, "I don't know what to do!"

For the first time, he moves, cocking his head to the side.

"I know that something awful happened to you," I continue, "I know that some—something got you. A monster that got other people, too."

Cole blinks, unresponsive.

"I want to help you," I say, "I want to bring you home. I want to help you and Morro and Garmadon—"

At these names, he twitches, and I silence.

"I—" I say, "I want to help you. But I don't know what to do."

His red-rimmed eyes snap to me, and at last he moves. One shaking hand rises, pointing to his neck. I follow the movement, brow furrowing. He continues to point, his stare going wide.

I open my mouth in question, but no noise leaves my lips.

Cole lifts his chin, pointing again.

I step forward, wishing that I could get closer, wishing that I could reach him.

He frowns, then shakes his hand, gesturing wildly.

I'm in the middle of shaking my head when I notice the bruises. I recognize them from the crime scene photos, but they're different, this time. Like his eyes, they're red at the edges, almost like they were fresh.

That's impossible, I think, moving a hand to scratch at my head.

Cole refuses to say anything, and eventually drops his hand, frowning.

I call out to him again, asking for him to talk to me, help me out, give me a clue, something, something, something!

But he shakes his head, walking backwards until the fog swallows him whole. I follow, crying out again and again, but I can't see him anymore. On the edges of my vision, I can see what I think to be figures running through the white mist, but they disappear before I can get a good look.

I tell myself not to cry, but I'm sure I did, eventually; I walk through the grey woods, shouting for someone who had long since left me.


When I woke, I was frustrated.

It was a silly thing, to be frustrated over a dream, but it was more than that. To be able to see Cole with such clarity and in such an uncertain setting made it all crueler to wake up and return to a reality as horrible as this.

And I still couldn't figure out what to do.

I rolled over, closing my eyes and frowning.

There was a monster in the woods.

Cole was in the woods.

Releasing a growl, I opened my eyes and shifted in my bedding. In my field of vision, I could see the table holding Cole's scattered papers, and I grimaced.

What I would give to see him smile at me again.

Moonlight fell over the floor, and a wall clock told me that it was well past midnight; too early to get up, too late to work a while longer. I shifted again, tilting my head up so that it rested on a cooler side.

Some papers had dispersed over the floor, as well, resting in odd corners and crannies. The sight of it made me sick.

All the same, I pulled a hand from the warmth of my blanket cocoon and lifted a paper near me. It was tough to make out in the darkness, so I squinted to get a better look, hoping that it wasn't the body diagram the officer had showed my parents.

A second passed, and I suddenly snapped straight up, flicking the sheet erect as I held it higher in the moon's light. My jaw dropped, and I could see Cole in my mind's eye, pointing, frustrated, at his neck.

Clutching the paper tight in my fist, I twisted on the spot, shoving at Zane's sleeping back until he woke up.


Thank you for reading!