One minute I'm in the woods on my favorite trail, walking and enjoying the weather this warm summer evening has brought, and the next I'm staring down a creature I thought only existed in nightmares. I glanced down at my phone to skip the song playing through my earbuds and when I finally looked up, I was horrified. I stop dead in my tracks, frozen in place with fear. My heart skips a beat and my breath hitches in my throat. I don't know what I'm looking at.
A few feet away is something that should be human, but isn't. It's crouched down on all fours, whatever it is, it's glowing golden eyes glaring into mine. It has a human body, biceps bulging against the tight grey T-shirt it's wearing. The creature has short blonde hair, but also has thick sideburns that run down the side of its face, almost to its chin. If this thing was human, it would definitely be a guy. Besides its eyes, that are quite literally glowing, what makes this thing so distinctly not human are the claws protruding from its hands, digging into the asphalt beneath them, and its mouth full of sharp, fang-like teeth. It has too many teeth for a regular person's mouth so it can't close its lips correctly, forcing its face to twist into a snarl. Drool drips out of the corner of its lips and it lifts one clawed hand to wipe the string of saliva away. For the few seconds that I've been studying it, it's been studying me. All at once, my senses come rushing back to me and I stumble backwards before I turn on my heel and start running. I'm pulled from the peace of my quiet afternoon and am thrown into survival mode, adrenaline surging through my veins. I run as fast as I can, tripping over my own feet occasionally.
The creature lets out a roar that makes my ears ring and I sense it move behind me. It closes the distance between us in seconds, despite my best efforts, and launches itself at me. I hit the ground, my hands pinned underneath my chest which knocks the wind out of me. Landing on top of my arms breaks my fall somewhat, but not enough to stop my cheek from smacking into the ground. I can't help but groan in pain. The creature is standing on my back, it's claws digging into my shoulders uncomfortably. My face stings and I know it's scratched up. The creature shifts and flips me over, it's clawed hands still pinning me down and digging into my shoulders. I close my eyes and turn my head so I don't have to look at it, but I can feel it's hot breath on my face and neck. I want to scream, but the noise is trapped in my throat.
"What do you want?" I manage to force out in a last ditch attempt to reason with this thing's human side. My voice cracks and is shaky in a way that makes it sound totally unfamiliar. The weight of the creature laying on top of me combined with panic that makes my chest tighten is making it almost impossible to breathe. Each inhale and exhale I take is embarrassingly loud and raspy. I get no response except for a very low, guttural growl. I flinch, bracing for the worst.
Suddenly, I hear another noise. An engine. The roar of the engine is getting increasingly loud, which means it's getting closer. I almost cry out with relief. I force my eyes open just as the creature lifts its head, spooked by the noise and prepared to run. It doesn't get the chance because there is a bang that makes my head throb and then everything is engulfed in blinding white light. I can't see what happens, but there is a thud and the creature roars as it is shoved off of me. It stumbles to the side of the road in a haze. I involuntarily gasp when its weight is lifted off my chest because I can breathe again. I blink to clear my vision, white spots still dancing in front of my eyes. The motorcycle comes into view and the roar of its engine is deafening now because it's right by my head.
"Get up, get on the bike! Hurry!" The boy on the dirt bike with brown hair and equally brown eyes screams at me, trying to hand me a white helmet. My vision is blurry and I feel dizzy with confusion, but I don't hesitate. I push myself up off the ground, my entire body aching in protest, and take the helmet from the boy's outstretched hand. I shove the helmet on my head and barely have enough time to jump on the back of the bike before he takes off. I almost fall backwards, but I grab onto his leather jacket and then wrap my arms around his waist. My whole body is trembling and I hope I'm not throwing the bike off balance. "I'm Scott." The person yells and I just nod and don't respond, knowing that my voice would be both muffled by the gear I'm wearing and then lost in the howling of the wind rushing past us as we speed down the road. We drive towards the barrier that marks the exit to the park, people yelling at us as we pass them. Scott navigates between two cones, exits the park, and heads for the main road. We drive for about two minutes towards the on ramp for the highway, going so fast that I don't even have time to process what just happened because I am so focused on not falling off. My thighs hurt from squeezing the bike between my legs so tightly.
Faster than I can even blink, something leaps out of the woods and jumps right into our path. It's hard to see what jumped out at us through the darkness of the visor on the helmet, but it looks a lot like what we were just running away from. Could it be that fast? Scott yells something that I can't make out as he tries to swerve to avoid hitting whatever is in front of us. The bike falls onto its left side, pinning my leg under it. Scott gets thrown off the bike to the right, flying through the air. I watch in horror as his unprotected head slams into the ground because he had chosen to protect me, a total stranger, instead. Everything after that is a blur because the motorcycle skids across the also surprisingly empty four lane road at a gut-wrenching speed and then down into the embankment on the side of the road, dragging me with it. I suddenly find myself airborne as well. I tumble down a hill and I can't see much, but something jabs into my side and white-hot pain fills my torso. Then I finally hit the ground.
...
There's a searing, unrelenting pain in my side but I am almost grateful for it because it forces my senses to sharpen enough for me to assess my current situation. I don't know how much time has passed. All I know is that it felt as if it took an eternity to catch my breath and find the strength to open my eyes. When I landed, my head snapped back and hit the ground. The cushioned lining of the helmet helped soften the impact, but the world lost focus for a while. When my vision finally stabilizes and sounds become less muffled, I turn my head and realize I am laying on the ground in the woods listening to cars pass by above me.
All that's on my mind is finding my phone so I can call for help. I want to get back up to the road and help Scott. There's no way he survived that. The thought makes my stomach turn. I want to check on the stranger that came to my aid because I feel weirdly responsible for what happened to him, but my entire body is shaking and feels like jelly. Dizziness washes over me and I have to force myself to remain present again so I can gauge the extent of my injuries besides the shooting pain in my side. Parts of my skin are tingling and burning uncomfortably and I don't know why. Something on my leg feels wet and warm. My limbs feel weirdly heavy and although I feel like every inch of me is bruised, I try to move them one at a time. I wince at the stiffness in all of my joints, but nothing feels broken. Slowly, I roll slightly on my side and shift to a sitting position. The small movement takes my breath away. C'mon, get up. Breathing heavily, I bring my hands underneath my chin, unclip Scott's helmet, and push it off my head. I wince at the sudden brightness of daytime the visor shielded me from. My arm trembles and I immediately drop the helmet, unable to hold it up longer than a few seconds.
I look down and my stomach turns again when I see large, bloody patches of raw skin on my arms. I don't want to know what my face looks like, but I assume it probably looks similar because it also stings. I force myself to take a few deep breaths to remain calm. I glance at my legs next and there are sizeable holes in my leggings, but the worst of the wounds is on my left leg where there is a gash so deep that I can actually see the muscle and fat underneath that has already left a fairly large pool of blood in the dirt. That's going to need stitches. I think every part of me is either bloody or battered. I can't bend the leg with the deep wound without feeling like I want to throw up at the sensation of my skin splitting open wider.
One, two, three. I give myself a countdown, grit my teeth, and then with any strength I can find, I push myself to a standing position. I waver unsteadily as I attempt to balance on one leg and I have to bite my fist to keep from crying out at the wave of pain all this movement brings. The pounding in my head and dizziness overwhelms me. I slump forward, finding standing up straight to be too painful. I take another breath and touch my waistband where my phone is supposed to be. Ok, no phone. My body is shaking so violently that I'm worried I won't be able to take another step, much less climb the steep hill to the road. Suddenly, hot tears fill my eyes and I'm overwhelmed with feelings of hopelessness and panic. I'm trying to figure out a way to walk when I hear the rustling of leaves from the top of the embankment.
"Hello? Anyone down there?" A male voice calls. I want to open my mouth to respond, to call out for help. But I can't, the words are trapped in my throat. I slap my thigh in frustration. "Stiles, I think I found her! I hear a heartbeat."
His words are followed by the sound of leaves crunching and relief rushes through me so strongly that I have to lean against a tree to keep from collapsing. Someone is coming. A man who looks like he can't be that much older than me comes into view, the sun reflecting satisfyingly off his light brown hair. "Holy shit." The stranger says, breaking into a jog as he scales down the rest of the hill when he sees me. Fear churns in my stomach. I can't tell which way is up right now, much less determine if this is someone I can trust. I don't trust anything anymore after what just happened. I didn't think what just happened was even possible. "Hi, I'm Isaac." He says, holding his hands up in surrender and slowing again as he approaches me as if I am some dangerous wild animal. His bright blue eyes never leave mine. "I know you're probably scared and nothing makes sense right now, but I will explain everything soon. I promise. I'm friends with Scott, do you remember Scott?"
"Yeah. Did you see him up there?" I choke out, relieved I'm able to even manage that and relieved he isn't here to hurt me because I couldn't run away even if I wanted to.
"Ok, that's a good start." Isaac remarks, ignoring my question. "I don't know how you're even conscious right now, much less upright. We need to get you to a hospital, will you let me help you? We can't call an ambulance because it's too dangerous to involve other people in this. They won't understand. Also, we're friends with a nurse at the hospital who is going to treat you because in order for Scott and I to be able to explain to you what just happened, we need to get you home and out of the hospital as soon as possible before anyone really knows you're there. Which means you won't actually be admitted to the hospital and won't be seen by any doctors. I know this all sounds crazy, but please believe me when I say we're all just trying to keep you safe. Once you're out of harm's way and out of the hospital, we can talk. Sound good?" Isaac asks intently and I just nod, feeling more exhausted and unsteady by the second. My head is spinning from this onslaught of information and I turn his words over and over again, trying desperately to process them. Going to hospital, but not actually going. Treated by nurse. Taking me home.
I think part of the reason I choose to trust these people when any rational person wouldn't is because they're putting their lives on the line for me and they don't know me either. That's also not a rational thing to do, but it is selfless. I truly believe these people are good, I feel strangely safe with them. On top of all of that, I'm still not really sure what I just saw, what just attacked me. I'm relieved I won't have to deal with people asking me what happened, at least for now, because I don't know what I would say.
"Alright, sit back down for a second." Isaac instructs, only an arm's distance away now, breaking me out of my train of thought.
I try to ease myself to the ground and my good knee buckles, too weak to support me anymore. I pitch forward and slam into Isaac, who grabs my forearms to hold me up. I wince at the wave of pain his sudden grip on my raw skin brings and I grab his biceps for support as I wait for it to pass. If I'm hurting him or if it's hard for him to hold me, he doesn't show it. "Take it easy, wait for me." He says softly, lowering me slowly and steadily to the ground before kneeling down as well.
"Does anything in particular hurt?" Isaac asks calmly, his hands already under my chin as he gently turns my head the slightest bit to examine my face as if he's done this before. That's unnerving. Without hesitating, he takes off his cardigan and dabs at the scratches there. I didn't even notice my face was bleeding, didn't feel the warmth of the blood dripping down my cheek and onto my chest. I can't really focus on his words with his hands on me.
"Who are you? And my side hurts, I think I hit the handle bars at some point. It's making it hard to breathe. Also, my leg definitely needs stitches." I answer, my teeth chattering as I shiver uncontrollably. Isaac doesn't say anything for a moment and continues his assessment, also dabbing at the gashes on my shoulders.
"That's a long story, but Scott texted me and told me what happened so I came to help. Are these from the thing that attacked you?" Isaac asks, gesturing to the claw marks on my arms, glancing up at me, his face creased with worry suddenly.
"Yeah, why?" I ask, feeling even colder as a pang of fear runs through me. If he's scared, I should probably be too.
"I'll explain later, we need to focus on getting you out of here." Isaac says quickly and dismissively, moving to look at the hole in my knee which has already made another puddle of blood on the ground. "Shit." Isaac mutters, tying his cardigan as tight as he can above my knee to try and stem the bleeding. "Ok, let's go. Is it alright if I carry you? We don't really have any other choice." Isaac asks and I just nod again.
"I'm sorry." I whisper, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Also, is Scott ok?"
"Please don't be sorry, none of this is your fault. And Scott will be fine." Isaac says, a hard edge to his voice. He wraps one arm around the middle of my back and puts the other under my knees before standing up and taking me with him. I grip his T-shirt in my hands, again doing anything to brace against the pain. I can feel myself losing my grip on reality, woozy from blood loss and adrenaline. I let my head loll against Isaac's chest, trying to hold on as he carries me out of the woods. Each step up the hill jostles me roughly. I can't see anything but the white of Isaac's shirt, but soon his steps become even and I assume we've finally reached the road. I let my eyes close, trembling from both cold and the fear I can't ignore anymore. "It's alright, try to stay awake though." Isaac says gently, rubbing his hand up and down my arm and I don't know if it's to provide comfort or warmth. "Stiles, blanket please." Isaac demands, urgency and concern lacing through his words.
I open my eyes to see who he's talking to. I turn my head, my neck aching in protest, and realize we are now in front of an old, blue Jeep. My heart squeezes when I see Scott in the front seat holding a towel to his head. His eyes are closed and he's pale, but he's alive. I can see the shallow rise and fall of his chest. I jump when someone steps out from behind the car, blanket in hand.
"Holy shit." The mystery person with messy brown hair says.
"You know it's a bad day when not just one, but two people greet you like that." I groan and he laughs in surprise.
"Wow, she's got jokes. I like you already. I'm Stiles." He says with a smile, shaking the blanket open and tossing it over me. I relish in its softness and the instant change in temperature. To my surprise, Isaac walks to the back of the car with me still in his arms and climbs in the trunk. He shifts a couple times to put me in a comfortable position in his lap. This may be the weirdest first meeting with someone I've ever had. He reaches out and pulls the door of the trunk shut.
"Am I...being kidnapped?" I ask in disbelief. I would laugh if I could, this day just couldn't get any stranger.
"No, sorry. This stupid car doesn't have any back seats." Isaac growls.
"Do not disrespect Roscoe again or you can leave the lady here and walk. Sorry, what is your name again?" Stiles asks, looking in the mirror at me as he puts the car in gear.
"Olivia." I say softly.