She was surrounded by dead bodies, those of ashen people.
She could not recognize any of them, despite many of them being fresh enough for their skin to still be warm. Ribs crushed under the pressure of flesh and bone, Dollface struggled away in an attempt to steal air. Wiggling forward on her belly, Dollface felt that her arms were trapped, pinned by the weight of so many half-naked bodies.
She could feel her warm skin touch cooling, firming skin. She was suffering from sensory overload.
Still trapped as she squeezed through the small crack, Dollface gasped for air, wild eyes wide open. Getting ready to let out a scream for help, a pale, purple-speckled hand was clapped over her mouth.
She could feel someone restrain her with their entire body, distinctly warm and sweaty, with hard muscles and long legs tangled with hers. As Dollface tried to squirm out from under them, her free arm reaching desperately for escape, an arm was clamped over her waist, trapping it.
She could feel someone's temple pressed against her, and she turned to see her own face, with shortly cropped black hair and deep set silver-blue eyes.
Michael Afton.
He had a cold, blank gaze, eyes empty and emotionless.
His white pupils burned into Dollface's retinas, leaving a familiar afterglow, reminiscent of the entry eyes she'd seen floating in the dark when watching security monitors.
Dollface's eyes flicked back and forth as she began to struggle harder, more panicked as he hissed for her to shush.
What would William's son want to do with her?
What wouldn't he want to do to her that his father had already done?
She freed her arms and reached for freedom, flailing her arms so that she could come loose. Mikey fought her, face unchanged even when she plunged sharp, silver teeth into his hand. She could feel bodies come loose, but he was heavier, stronger than her, and could pull her back easily. She pushed forward, but his arms never loosened from around her, it felt like he was covering her, smothering her, like thick spider web and fabric.
Dollface, tangled in her thin bed sheets and smothered face-down in her pillow, fell off her bunk with a loud, half awake 'OOF'.
She lay stiff, then dropped her head on the floor, panting and sweaty.
The mildness of a late-summer night crept into the crude cabin. A cool wind rustled the trees, the beginning of Autumn, an Oregon Autumn far from home, and reminded her that this was her new reality.
She was sore, stiff from the week of weightlifting and getting her ass kicked by much more skilled athletes. Dollface couldn't get up, it hurt too much. She was sleepy and in so... much... pain...
The last free week of getting adjusted to St. Godiva's and had left her exhausted and completely drained.
She was so homesick in this moment.
Dollface had never been religious, that had always been her grandparent's thing, but now she tried one last attempt for security, clasping her hands and parting her lips.
She gagged, then wretched.
Dollface felt like her mouth was full of sand, filling her lungs and choking any words she could make. She began to panic, feeling like vomit would start coming up. She tried remembering the faces of her friends, but was unable to conjure their images. She convulsed, about to start crying, suffocating. her lungs felt like they were full of water
She forced to the window, about to open the door and cough out the contents of maybe her belly, maybe her lungs, or maybe a hollowed out torso.
Wait-
Hearing something, Dollface stopped gagging, suddenly able to breathe. Her trembling hands releasing the window latch.
Easing across the scuffed wood floor, Dollface quietly tiptoed to the window on the back wall of the cramped space and stared at the blinds covering whatever was making the rustling noise. She could hear soft crunches and low growls, like a wild animal eating something it shouldn't be.
Deciding that it was now or never, Dollface ripped the blinds open to reveal something vaguely resembling a wolf hunched over a dead rabbit, stunted lower jaw grinding away at the bunny hungrily.
Dollface stared at the wolf, seeing that it was standing and holding the dead animal with furry hands, and that its head was round and humanoid, topped with purple and black box braids. Its jaws were not slender, but a short snout full of sharp, white teeth. Blood, shining under the full moon, trickled down its neck and soaked into its purple and brow ruff.
When it finally noticed chattering teeth and trembling stare, the wolf faced her head-on and growled, dropping the rabbit. Its eyes, while yellow and glowing, were human-like.
Dollface stumbled back, realizing that what she saw wasn't normal.
This was not a human or a wolf, but something in-between.
A werewolf, something she'd always been told was impossible.
She gulped, looking to her sleeping roommate and dropped the blinds just as the beast lunged at the screen window with a loud growl.
It clawed for a few moments, paced, then picked up its meal in its jaws and went around the cabin to paw at the door.
Dollface nervously sat by the back window, waiting for the scratching to end.
Eventually, the scratching stopped and the world was silent.
Heart beginning to quiet down, Dollface let her head rest against the back wall, eyes falling closed. She was awake and steadying her breathing, tired but scared to sleep.
Had Dollface really seen a werewolf just outside her cabin?
She was tired, morose and fatigued.
Of course she hadn't.
She was just tired and spooked.
Bright light and a rumble stirred her.
She sat up straight, fully awake and registered the sound as a vehicle of some sort.
Dollface eased to her feet, sore, and limped to the door. She cracked it open and searched outside for signs of life, desperate to escape St. Godiva's.
She swayed in the doorway, every back and leg muscle barely tolerable.
If whatever she'd seen were to come in, she wouldn't be even able to lift an arm to defend herself.
Outside, a car's headlights blinked out as the driver exited. She could only see his outline against the dim inner lights of the beaten car. The driver stood and Dollface could barely see their features. The driver's head turned, two silver pinpoints staring her dead in the eyes. She trembled harder than she had at the 'werewolf' and shook in the gentle warmth of Summer's remains.
The pair stared at each other, with the distant driver being the first to turn away, unloading the car.
Dollface quietly closed the door, hoping she hadn't been seen.
Dollface had made the mistake of being awake before morning roll call and chores earlier in the week when she'd been unable to sleep and taken a walk. The punishment, while reasonable, had still been embarrassing and enough to call home for.
She grabbed her blankets from the floor and scurried up the ladder of her bunk and huddled. Wrapped in her blankets, she called out for Michael only to find a silent, empty nothing.
Dollface spent the last few moments of consciousness before her first day of school trying not to cry from fear and muscle pain from a week of too much exercise.