WOLF OF PENUMBRA
"Between Light and Shadow" S1 Ep1
Created by LittleDevil-888
Last Updated: 01/07/2023 (Final Edit)
First Created: 06/05/2019
WORD COUNT: 4,843
NOTE: All episodes come from PDF files that are free on the WOLF_OF_PENUMBRA_P4TR3ON. They are more stylized and look better than what this site provides.
CONTENT ADVISORY FOR THIS EPISODE
Physical Violence, Fantasy Violence, Mild Language, Sexual Themes & Situations, Death,
Bullying, Wild Animal Death, Adoption Discrimination
EXT. DEAD ZONE - NIGHT
Remnants of a city lie abandoned, reclaimed by nature long ago. Debris and concrete are coated in lush overgrowth. Moss, grass, and soil fill in the rough terrain.
A black tattered banner flaps in the wind, featuring a white triskelion design, below it the letters "UEA".
There is a deer nipping at the grass growing on an abandoned car's hollow frame, halfway sunk into the ground, rusted beyond repair.
SNAP!
The deer looks up and bolts, dodging and weaving gracefully through the environment. A smoky shadow slides against the ground, following.
Slowing to a stop…
Illuminated by moonlight, the deer's shadow stretches out behind it against a broken concrete wall. The silhouette of a werewolf creature materializes behind the deer.
It pounces, pinning the deer to the ground.
The deer's silhouette struggles and cries. The creature violently drinks the essence out of the poor animal, turning it to ash.
It crumbles away into the wind…
EXT. STILLMORE - DAY
This settlement, Stillmore, stands in stark contrast to the dead zone previously described. The buildings sit heavily upon the earth in thick, blocky clusters. Many of the structures are built together in compact segments or connected by large pipes and wires.
The school: Shutter Creek High. Brutalist architecture. Made largely of concrete and metal—durable, strong, and secure. The flagpole features a flag with a UEA symbol gently waving in the wind.
INT. SCH: MATH CLASSROOM
JACQUELINE, age 16, Asian descent, thin yet athletic frame. She sits at the back of the class, toward the door. Red plaid shirt—frayed edges—and a purple tank top sporting a pumpkin detail. She looks like someone you'd find working in a Halloween store.
She glares at the walls of text breaking down the complex formulas of the math book on her desk. The words become blurry and lose meaning.
Blinking, she pulls away in pain. Jacqueline gazes dimly up at the MATH TEACHER—40s, and definitely wearing a wig—in the middle of a lesson. He gestures to math problems on the board with a pointer stick.
Jacqueline slides her sketchbook a few inches out from under the math book. She continues with a sketch of a werewolf creature. Her knuckles have large scars.
A couple strokes of her pencil in, the BELL RINGS, startling a scratch across the drawing. She hisses in annoyance and closes both books on her desk. The other students in the class filter out.
MATH TEACHER: Jacqueline.
JACQUELINE: Yeah?
MATH TEACHER: May I see you for a moment?
She rolls her eyes and wanders up to the front desk. The math teacher roots through a filing cabinet. He pulls a stack of stapled papers out and lays it on the desk.
MATH TEACHER: I, uh, was a little curious about some of your answers on last Friday's test.
He flips a few pages and points to one of the questions.
"If John needs 36 bottles of soda, and he can only carry 4 at a time, how many trips to the store does he need to make?"
"ANSWER: Use a cart."
Jacqueline gives him a blank, half-lidded stare.
JACQUELINE: I think you should be testing John's intelligence, because I'm worried for him.
MATH TEACHER: Jacqueline, please take this seriously.
JACQUELINE: I am, John's an idiot.
The math teacher quirks a brow at her, unamused.
Jacqueline sighs, running her fingers through her bangs, and shifts her weight. The teacher puts a hand on his hip.
MATH TEACHER: I'm aware you have some pretty big shoes to fill. How are you going to do that when you don't have the math skills to get through the door? This quiz covers material you should already know.
JACQUELINE: It's not hard, just exhausting working through an hour-long test.
MATH TEACHER: Well, the Umbral Extermination Agency's exams can be a couple hours long at a time.
JACQUELINE: (groaning) Doesn't matter. I told you, I'm not joining the UEA.
MATH TEACHER: You say that now, bu—
JACQUELINE: —Are we done? Can I go?
He leans against the desk with a familiar sigh.
MATH TEACHER: Yes, Jacqueline.
JACQUELINE: Thank you.
She picks up her things and leaves the classroom.
INT. SCH: HALLS
Metal, cement, and stone paneling dominate the school's interior in addition to its brutalist exterior. Earthy greys, greens, and tans dominate the color scheme.
Missing people posters cover a message board, and banners that read "Join the UEA!" flank the hallway, as JACQUELINE weaves her way past other students and two UEA officers—casually conversing.
Stopping at her locker, she puts her notebooks away and continues walking down the hall.
WARREN: What happened to my locker?!
Jacqueline freezes mid-step.
WARREN, 16, Hispanic/Native American, thick muscular body, shaggy hair, sporty clothes, stands gawking at the graffitied creature covering the inner locker door.
Standing beside him is ADLEY, 17, Indian, notably short, raven shoulder-length hair tied back, an absurdly muscular body, and gym-style clothing purposefully revealing her midriff.
WARREN: You!
The two lock eyes with Jacqueline. Cringing, she turns on her heel and runs.
ADLEY: Hey!
Warren and Adley chase after her. They weave through the traffic of other students.
Adley catches up. She grabs Jacqueline by the wrist. The nearby students clear a space. Some stay to watch.
ADLEY: Keep that Umbral-loving crap to yourself!
Jacqueline jerks out of her grasp.
JACQUELINE: Yeah, well, I could do with a little less UEA bootlicking around here! Looks like neither of us are happy.
ADLEY: The UEA is here to protect us!
JACQUELINE: Sure, but they're also killers.
Adley growls, swinging at Jacqueline. Jacqueline ducks and kicks the back of Adley's knee out. She buckles to the floor.
Warren's quick jabs send Jacqueline ducking and weaving. She's backpedaling, doing her best to deflect the blows.
Adley lunges at her from behind. Jacqueline slips by her only to be caught in a takedown by Warren. She hisses in pain as he slams her on her stomach.
He forces her back to her feet while trapping her in a hold. Jacqueline struggles and kicks Warren, making him flinch a few times. His grip never loosens.
WARREN: Yeah, and what about your "owner?" He a killer too?
JACQUELINE: (struggling) He's my dad, jackass.
ADLEY: You're a stray he took in! Little dirty that he's trying to help people, and you would rather side with the monsters.
JACQUELINE: I'm not—
Adley punches her in the gut. Jacqueline curls in on herself, coughing.
MR. CLOVE: Hey!
The school principal rushes toward them. MR. CLOVE, 40s, wearing a dark suit, short, dark brown skin, buzzed black hair, thin jawline facial hair.
The students make room as he approaches.
ADLEY: M-Mr. Clove?!
Warren loosens his grip. Jacqueline shoves herself away from him.
MR. CLOVE: What is going on here?!
WARREN: She ruined my locker!
Jacqueline shrugs, rubbing where he held.
JACQUELINE: I'll admit, the head was a little too big.
Warren turns sharply to her.
Mr. Clove snaps at the surrounding students.
MR. CLOVE: All of you, get to class!
He turns back to Warren and Adley.
MR. CLOVE: It saddens me to see such promising students assault each other on school grounds!
He takes a deep breath and forces his shoulders down. He gestures for Jacqueline to come closer. She walks up to him. Head down. Arms crossed.
MR. CLOVE: Ms. Shull, please tell me what happened.
JACQUELINE: I drew a barghest in his locker.
MR. CLOVE: More vandalism? (sigh) You're going to have to—
JACQUELINE: —Scrub it off after school, I know.
Adley passes her a smug look. Mr. Clove frowns.
MR. CLOVE: And you two are getting a week's detention! Starting tomorrow.
WARREN: A week?!
ADLEY: But we have training after school!
MR. CLOVE: I'm sure you'll catch up. Save the physical violence for gym class from now on, hm? And… two against one? Disappointing.
He waves his hand, gesturing for them to leave.
MR. CLOVE: Go on then.
Adley opens her mouth and steps forward. Warren stops her. They settle for glaring at Jacqueline. She sticks her tongue out at them, revealing her tongue piercing.
Warren walks away. Adley looks at her in disgust before sharply turning away and marching off.
Jacqueline walks the opposite way down the hall.
Two boys walk up to her.
HARLEY, 17, Brazilian/Italian, narrow-hipped athletic build, gelled-up brown hair, and green eyes. Wearing a denim vest with ripped sleeves. His tucked plain white T-shirt has small oil stains by the collar.
And DUSTIN, 16—looks younger, short, golden-brown eyes, messy blond hair, small bit of scruff on his chin, pale white freckled skin. His scrawny frame is hidden beneath an oversized green hoodie and baggy jeans.
Jacqueline approaches Harley as Warren and Adley walk away.
HARLEY: Hey, what just happened?
JACQUELINE: A quick scrap, nothing big.
HARLEY: What for?
DUSTIN: D-did you do something?
She quirks a brow at Dustin.
DUSTIN: Hey, just d-don't drag me into it. We get into enough stuff as is.
JACQUELINE: Don't worry. I just did a little drawing.
HARLEY: Are you hurt?
JACQUELINE: I'm fine. Thrive kids are more than happy to throw a punch, but they don't have the guts to do any real damage.
Harley looks at her sympathetically. He opens his mouth to respond, but Dustin cuts in.
DUSTIN: Says you. B-bruises and b-bloody noses are more than enough for me.
Jacqueline shakes her head with a light chuckle. Harley looks off and stops.
HARLEY: Woah…
He stares at a bulletin board. Dustin and Jacqueline follow his gaze.
JACQUELINE: Oh, I saw that this morning.
DUSTIN: More missing people posters? Jeez, the school year just started.
HARLEY: Why are you guys so calm? I've never seen more than three on here before. Now there's…
He pauses to count.
HARLEY: Fifteen?
The BELL RINGS. Jacqueline nudges his arm.
JACQUELINE: You're gonna make yourself depressed. Come on, we'll be late for class.
INT. SCH: HALLS - AFTER SCHOOL
JACQUELINE scrubs paint off the locker door.
MS. SHEPARD, 30s, thin and shapely frame, blond hair in a bun, purple eyes, glasses perched on her nose with a chain looping around her neck. Her outfit is formal, as one would expect from a vice principal. She leans against the window sill, arms crossed.
MS. SHEPARD: Make sure you get every inch.
Jacqueline rolls her eyes.
MS. SHEPARD: Roll your eyes all you want, you're the one who did it. Why you would feel the need to draw such a thing in the first place is beyond me.
JACQUELINE: Why does everyone have such a violent reaction to a drawing of an animal?
MS. SHEPARD: Because they aren't animals, Shull. They are monsters.
Jacqueline shrugs.
JACQUELINE: People say "monster" when they want to distance themselves from something.
Jacqueline drops the scrubber into the bucket and shakes the water off her hands.
JACQUELINE: If we didn't push them away so much, we would know more about them.
Ms. Shepard snorts and points down the hall.
MS. SHEPARD: Alright Shull, put that away, and you can go. Be careful going home—border curfew begins in an hour.
JACQUELINE: Yup.
Jacqueline picks up the bucket and walks off. Ms. Shepard shakes her head.
MS. SHEPARD: Strange girl.
EXT. WILLOWS PARK
Willows Park is, as the name suggests, filled with weeping willows. The park is dense with foliage. The gravel path is clear and easy to ride a bike on. JACQUELINE slows her pedaling and lets the wheels roll free.
Her reflection twists and contorts in the creek's gentle stream just off the side of the path.
She eventually slows to a stop, looking around. Dead silence. No birds. No people. No wind.
Jacqueline sighs, shakes her head, and begins down the path again.
After a few more moments of riding along the trail, she comes to a rickety old wooden bridge that crosses the creek.
Jacqueline dismounts her bike and leans it up against the wooden handrail before she herself leans against the old wood. It groans in protest.
JACQUELINE: (under breath) It's pretty peaceful out here, in an eerie kind of way…
A high-pitched SCREECHING comes from behind a couple shrubs. Jacqueline bolts upright.
JACQUELINE: Never mind.
Something flops out onto the path from the bushes.
JACQUELINE: Oh, man…
Her shoulders drop, and she looks pitifully at the small creature before her. A black bird with four wings and six glowing green eyes. A young HARPY, trapped, tangled in a dirty, damaged wire net.
Jacqueline clicks her tongue and approaches the struggling creature. She grips its head and pins it down as she folds its wings through the gaps in the net. It stops screeching.
One of the harpy's sharp feathers nicks Jacqueline's palm. She ignores it to pull the remaining wire off.
The harpy gets to its feet and shakes its feathers before taking off.
Jacqueline glares at the old net in her hands.
JACQUELINE: The real monsters are the hunters leaving this crap out here…
She glances at the creek.
Bits of black powder float in the water down the stream, getting steadily more concentrated the longer Jacqueline looks. Her eyes focus, and she leans in a bit farther.
Black sticklike formations spread throughout the goop.
JACQUELINE: The heck…?
As she stares, a rounded black clump follows in the concoction, bouncing and swaying in the current.
It rolls around, partially disintegrating in the water.
It's a human skull…
Jacqueline stiffens and chokes in surprise.
JACQUELINE: Oh, ok! That's a dead body! No thanks!
Jacqueline gets to her feet and turns on her heel.
She freezes.
On the opposite side of the bridge, just up the stream, a bipedal wolflike creature stands, smiling back at her as if it had just won a prize. It's seven-foot build, grazing the willows' vines. A WULVER.
Jacqueline's eyes lock with the piercing amber of the wulver's. Its fur is pitch black, and a ghostly blue glow emanates from the claws and its breath. The pointed teeth shine bright ivory against its dark maw.
Snap!
A branch crunches behind her. She looks away for only a second, but that was all it needed.
It's gone…
JACQUELINE: S-son of a—
Jacqueline fumbles to mount her bike.
She races back the way she came, tree branches SNAP and RIP all around her from an invisible force.
A black whiplike appendage bursts from a tree's shadow. Jacqueline and the bike are thrown off the path down a grassy hill. Her backpack rips off in the tumble.
Jacqueline scrambles to get back to her bike.
The wulver materializes from the shadows at the top of the hill. Eyes glowing, it bounds on all fours down the hill.
The wulver cuts in front of her, snarling and hissing. It spins around, using its powerful serpentine tail to swat her away.
Jacqueline lands in the dirt with a wheeze. She grips her side in pain and coughs before pulling herself up.
Heart pounding. She looks around.
It's gone again.
She jerks her head around, searching for it.
A moment passes, still nowhere to be seen. She eyes her bike and takes a cautious step toward it. The dirt and gravel crunch under her shoe. Holding her breath, she looks around, hesitant to make a move.
Nothing.
She takes another step.
Nothing.
JACQUELINE: (muttering) I know you're still here… (deep breath) Screw it!
Jacqueline twists around, bursting into a panicked scramble away from her bike.
The wulver glares, forced to emerge from the shadows, and gives chase through the sunlit clearing.
It rushes forward, a feral look in its eye as it nips at her heels. Jacqueline spins around, tossing a handful of dirt in its face.
It flinches and hisses, pawing at its eyes. Still blinded, it swings its tail forward, snagging Jacqueline's ankle. She falls on her stomach.
Eyes still watery, it looks up with a smile. A cloud blocks the sunlight.
Before Jacqueline can get up, it envelops its body in shadow.
Pouncing, it enters Jacqueline's body between her shoulder blades in a thick, smoky energy.
Jacqueline screams, desperately clutching her ribs, panting, squirming, and whining in agony. A sickening snapping grows louder and louder. She gasps for breath. Tears well in her eyes.
Heat radiates from her body. The surrounding grass grows brittle and black.
A blast of maroon lightning strikes the sky.
EXT. WILLOWS PARK - NIGHT
Enough time has passed that a full moon now bathes the trees in its glow. JACQUELINE'S eyes open but struggle to focus. She raises her hand to rub them.
Her hands are paws.
Now an over six-foot-tall wulver with black fur, striped tail, bony body, maroon claws, and bright glowing grey eyes.
Struck with adrenaline, she screams and skitters on the ground.
She examines herself, wiggling her claws and feeling the fur on her arms.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM): The wulver, it…
A memory flashes. It enters her back.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM): Is… Is this what possession feels like? Some kind of t-trippy dream? A hallucination?
Her voice is deeper, raspier in this form. The trees RUSTLE around her. She is in the same place the wulver attacked her. A large circle of charred black grass where she lies. She looks around, ears twisting and flicking toward every sound.
Jacqueline tries to get up but fails. She looks at her new digitigrade legs miserably. Her ears fall flat.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM): Really convincing illusion…
She pulls herself over to the creek a few feet away, then looks in the water at her reflection. She sees a wulver in the reflection and jumps back, looking behind herself.
Nothing there.
Cautiously, she leans in to look again. She flinches but continues to look at the reflection, only to realize it's hers. The cut on her palm now marks her paw pad. And scars over her knuckles carry over into this form, as well as her ear and tongue piercings. She places a paw on her fox-like muzzle, feeling it out.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM) (V.O.): No doubt, it's me… H-how is this even—
Looking back, she discovers her tail. Her eyes widen and she flicks it back and forth.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM): I-I'm moving it! Ok… um… wow! I, uh… What is even happening? (sighing) This isn't real. This is NOT real… I gotta, uh…
Jacqueline sits up, attempting to stand. Taking her time balancing on her toes with visible difficulty and using a tree as support, she begins to fall. Her burning-hot claws sink deep into the trunk of the tree. She grits her teeth, a look of sickness.
Hunching over, she throws up at the foot of the tree.
Empty, she pries her claws out of the tree trunk with her free arm. Then collapses onto her furry back, panting like a haggard dog. Her eyes twist shut in pain. She stretches out dramatically like a glorified snow angel.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM): (hoarse and weak) Pain, nausea, dizziness… feels WAY too real…
She slowly sits up.
The sound of twigs SNAPPING under heavy footsteps gets closer. Jacqueline's ear and nose twitch.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM) (V.O.): Coffee and cigarettes?
A hefty adult man, wearing a UEA SCOUTER's uniform and a helmet with a pale green visor, is standing only a few feet away.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM): (a little too casual) Um, Officer? Can you help me? There was a—
He draws a fully charged pulse pistol, aiming it directly at her head.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Don't talk to me, you dog.
Jacqueline's eyes widen. She raises both paws slowly. He sees her as a wulver as well. Realization dawns.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM) (V.O.): Not an illusion…
The scouter says something unintelligible into the radio on his collar. Jacqueline freezes.
The scouter takes a step forward. Jacqueline's eyes dart around for an escape.
CRACK!
He steps on a loud twig, startling himself enough for his aim to lose focus. Jacqueline springs up in her awkward body, running haphazardly and unbalanced.
Shots of pale green spectral energy ZIP past her, blowing off bark from the surrounding trees. The bulky scouter has trouble keeping up with her.
About halfway across the rickety bridge over the creek, one of the scouter's shots blast apart a wooden plank under Jacqueline's foot. Her tail whips around and chokes her legs together.
SNAP!
She falls through the wooden handrail of the bridge, plunging into the frigid creek water. The scouter stops at the bridge, looking into the current.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Shoot…
— — Submerged, Jacqueline struggles to swim, getting pulled by the current.
Pulled deeper, frantically squirming underwater.
Her claws disintegrate abruptly, and her fur burns away, reverting her to human form. She surfaces and pulls herself out of the current, gasping for breath.
She stands at the shallow end of the creek, where it meets the path. Looking herself over, she confirms that she is indeed human again.
JACQUELINE: I-I changed back?! What the…?
The scouter spots Jacqueline from the bridge and calls out.
HEFTY SCOUTER: —Hey!
He hovers his flashlight over Jacqueline. She stands stiffly in the creek. The officer wanders closer.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Come to me SLOWLY with your hands up!
Jacqueline looks suspiciously at the scouter before doing as instructed. Hesitantly, she approaches him. Pulling out a small pen-like device, the scouter approaches Jacqueline.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Watch this closely.
She stares at the device. It flashes brightly, and she flinches. The scouter breathes in relief.
HEFTY SCOUTER: No signs of possession.
Jacqueline perks up at the statement. The scouter throws his UEA uniform jacket over her drenched clothes. She stiffens, still suspicious of the man.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Hey, I recognize you! Yeah, you're one of Dr. Shull's kids, huh?
Jacqueline nods her head.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Why the heck are you out here standin' in the creek in the middle of the night?!
No response, blank stare.
He sighs.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Was that your bike down the path?
She nods her head.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Alright, sweetie, let's get you home. It is far from safe out here!
The scouter places a hand on Jacqueline's back and guides her through the darkness.
INT. SHULL HOUSE: LIVING ROOM
The house is modern in style, living room is spacious, almost sterile, coffee table riddled with papers, files, folders, and various other documents all labeled "PROPERTY OF THE UEA."
DR. SHULL, 45, skinny and tall, brown and grey hair with a medium-length beard, pale white skin, wearing a dress shirt and black pants.
In front of the wall-mounted TV, he sits on an L-shaped couch with a phone in hand and a worried expression.
DR. SHULL: Um, Jody, dear, have you heard anything from your sister yet? She's still not responding to me.
JODY, 12, scrawny, long black hair, Asian descent, has braces and a prosthetic leg—right side just below the knee. Wearing a skirt and a T-shirt with a bunny on it.
With a bowl of chips in her hand, Jody enters the living room. She sits on the couch and pops a chip in her mouth.
JODY: Nope. She's probably off with her friends.
DOORBELL RINGS.
Dr. Shull springs from the couch to answer the door, but pauses to cross his fingers.
DR. SHULL: PLEASE don't be cops!
Dr. Shull sighs and then opens the door. JACQUELINE stands damp on the porch with the UEA SCOUTER behind her. Helmet now removed, revealing his blond hair and mustache.
DR. SHULL: Jacqueline? What happened to you? A-are you alright? Come, get inside where it's warm…
He opens the door farther to let Jacqueline in. Jacqueline gives the officer his coat back and goes inside silently.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Found her waist-high in the creek of Willows Park after I spotted a wulver. Seems quite shaken. She hasn't spoke a word to me.
The scouter puts a hand on his hip.
HEFTY SCOUTER: Could be in shock. I'd keep an eye on her.
DR. SHULL: Alright, thank you so much, Officer Mudwin. I owe you.
OFFICER MUDWIN (HEFTY SCOUTER): (smiling) My pleasure, Doctor.
DR. SHULL: Good night, Officer.
Officer Mudwin leaves. Dr. Shull closes the door and enters the living room to see Jacqueline about to step upstairs.
DR. SHULL: Ah-ah! I need to speak with you.
Jacqueline's shoulders drop, and she turns around.
JODY: Ooh! Someone's in trouble!
Dr. Shull sits down on the couch.
DR. SHULL: Shh, Jody, be nice. Your sister needs space. Why don't you give us some privacy, hmm?
JODY: Blech! Fine…
She gets up, glares childishly at Jacqueline, and takes her chips with her upstairs. Jacqueline joins her father on the couch. Dr. Shull turns to the stairs.
DR. SHULL: And no eavesdropping!
JODY: Aw, come on!
The sound of footsteps goes farther up the stairs, and then a door closes.
DR. SHULL: As for you—
He adjusts his glasses and turns his attention to Jacqueline. She covers her mouth, yawning.
JACQUELINE: What?
He cocks his head.
DR. SHULL: "What?" Jacqueline, an officer said he found you in the creek. Believe it or not, I'm a little concerned. A-are you alright?
She flashes a look of surprise and rubs her arm nervously.
JACQUELINE: Oh, ok… Uh, yeah, I think so… There… was a wulver, and… (shrugging) I hid.
DR. SHULL: Are you sure? You aren't hurt anywhere, are you? Hit your head on anything?
Jacqueline's eyes widen. She snaps forward.
JACQUELINE: PLEASE! Don't take me to a hospital! Seriously, I'm fine, maybe a little bruised, but that's all I swear!
DR. SHULL: Alright, alright, calm down. I just want to make sure you're safe… (teasing) Besides, we don't have to go to a hospital. I can probably help you myself. I am a biologist, after all.
JACQUELINE
Yeah, an Umbral biologist!
DR. SHULL: (smiling with a shrug) Close enough.
JACQUELINE: Dad!
DR. SHULL: Ok, I understand.
Jacqueline leans back, relieved.
JACQUELINE: Thank you.
DR. SHULL: Anyway, you look miserable. Why don't you take a hot shower, then head to bed?
JACQUELINE: Yes, please.
Jacqueline gets up.
DR. SHULL: I am always an open door for you, Jacqueline... Really. Wulvers are scary creatures. It is ok to feel scared.
She stiffens, eyes flickering to the ground for a brief moment.
JACQUELINE: I know. Night, Dad.
Jacqueline goes up the stairs.
INT. SHULL HOUSE: 2ND FLOOR
JACQUELINE walks down the hallway and opens the door to Jody's room. She peeks inside to see her sister's messy room, JODY's sleeping form curled up in her bed, prosthetic leg lying up against the side of the bed frame.
Jacqueline steps back and closes the door gently.
INT. SHULL HOUSE: 2ND FLOOR BATHROOM
Hair tie out, JACQUELINE cleans the cut on her palm in the sink. She reaches for a bandage in the mirror cabinet.
A sickening look crosses her face. She clutches her stomach, falls to the ground, and throws up into the toilet.
As she gasps for breath, Jacqueline wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. The toilet bowl is filled with thick black blobs of goop, laced with strange sticklike structures similar to what was floating in the creek. She pulls away, hand over mouth in disgust.
JACQUELINE: (gagging) Sick! Smells like rotten meat and burnt hair!
She flicks the toilet handle to flush.
Trying to wash her mouth out, Jacqueline pulls herself up to the bathroom sink. She glances at her palm.
The cut is smaller, no longer damp with blood, now closed and scabbed over, looking a couple days old.
JACQUELINE: Woah…
She winces in pain. Opening her mouth, she pulls back her lips with her finger.
In addition to her canines, the teeth just beside them are sharper and more pronounced.
Stunned, Jacqueline stares into the mirror in thought, searching with her eyes. Sighing heavily, she brushes her hair back. She puts the toilet lid down and sits on top, holding her head.
JACQUELINE: (mumbling to herself) If I tell Dad, I'm going to the hospital…
An idea comes to Jacqueline and she raises her arm, flexing her hand.
JACQUELINE: Come on, come on… I did it in the creek… I felt it. I know I did.
Nothing happens.
Jacqueline takes a deep, shuddering breath, then tries again, this time focusing and closing her eyes.
Her face tightens in pain before she opens her eyes to see her arm turn into a smoky wulver's paw, her human flesh burning and peeling away. She waves her arm back and forth as if it's on fire.
JACQUELINE: Ah, that burns!
The smoky black fur dissipates as Jacqueline flings her arm around, and the claws dissolve as they did in the creek. She blinks in astonishment.
JACQUELINE: Th-that worked?
Jacqueline stares at her fingers, triggering the transformation again. It creeps up her arm like before.
Jacqueline grits her teeth in pain as the transformation rapidly escapes her control, shifting her entirely. She tumbles awkwardly onto the floor, tail bunched up against the wall in the suddenly claustrophobic space.
JACQUELINE (WULVER FORM): OW! No, no, not HERE, go back!
Another triggered transformation. She lies uncomfortably on the bathroom floor, human form restored.
Rolling over onto her back.
JACQUELINE: (panting) …Monster, huh?
— END —