Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Inherited My Grandmother's Cabin. There's Something Inside It | Scary Stories

Episode Date: September 18, 2023

It went wrong.   Story from Born-Beach Make sure to check out more of their work at u/Born-Beach | r/TalesFromTheCryptid                             Original Post: My grandma died and passed down her secluded cabin-in-the-woods to my brother and I… : r/nosleep                                     Original YouTube link: I Inherited My Grandmother's Cabin. There's Something Inside It             For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Merch: lighthousehorror.com  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every day, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

My grandmother passed away last month, but nobody found her corpse until a week ago. Hazards of living out in the mountains, I suppose. My uncle couldn't believe it. He'd been driving her groceries and supplies once a month, and according to the coroner's report, she died a day after he'd left. What are the chances? To hear him tell it, she was just fine when he'd driven away, too. Spry as she'd ever been.

She was even getting her own water from the river and doing a bit of fishing on the side. And then poof, deceased. Griff, her golden retriever, was gone now too. My uncle thought he probably took off after realizing Grandma wasn't waking up, maybe got hungry and went off chasing squirrels in the woods or something. My uncle strolled about and called Griff's name for hours after he'd found Grandma, looking in all his usual hiding spots, but had no luck. My opinion, Griff probably got as far away as he could.

After the funeral, my brother and I offered to come up and help our uncle clean up her things, or at least my brother did, and I got guilt-tripped along for the ride. Apparently, she left the cabin to the two of us in her will. Split custody. Not that either of us wanted it. We'd more than had our fill of memories out there. That said, it was a nice day. day to tidy up at dead woman's things.

The summer sun shone bright and there wasn't so much as a cloud in the sky. Overhead, sparrows darted between the towering pine trees, flitting around the cabin's small clearing while they sang their bird song. I'm gonna bring this stuff down the mountain and head in for the night, Uncle Jake said, gesturing to his pickup truck full of grandma's furniture. You two gonna take off soon? Or spend the night? He looked like the splitting image of a mountain man standing there with his tree trunk arms

and red flannel shirt. The beard was the cherry on top. We'll be heading out soon, I said. Don't worry about us. The car got us up here just fine. It'll get us back down. Uncle Jake was suspicious of any vehicle that didn't have a cargo bed. All right, sure thing, boys.

Take it easy now. He hopped into the cab of the pickup and slammed the door with a metal clang. A moment later, the engine turned over and the mountain air was replaced with a thick smell of diesel and rust. With a rumble, the truck rolled out of the cabin's dirt driveway, bobbed down the makeshift road, and disappeared to the faint rifts of ACDC's thunderstruck. Stay the night, my brother Eric said, snickering. as if we'd spend a night in this hellhole.

Eric was tall and lanky, poor of eyesight, and blindingly pale. He pulled this thick glasses from his face and wipe the lenses clean on his Marvel TV shirt. I say we finish these last couple boxes and follow him down. He peered up through the pine trees overhead, where the sun was beginning its slow descent into the evening. We're a few hours from dark yet. But I want to be far from these woods when the lights go out. He shot me a knowing wink. I walked up the creaking wooden porch and pulled the thick door open.

Then stop looking at your phone every five minutes and help me get this shit done, I said, stepping inside and leaving the door to swing in the breeze. Help me get this shit done, he repeated in a mocking tone, following me inside. I'm just trying to get in touch with Dad. He still hasn't answered my text. Maybe that's because we don't have any service out here. I meant since the funeral. The dude's been a total recluse since Mom died. Yeah, well, I could care less. The guy's a complete asshole anyway, I said. I crouched down in front of a bookshelf and began pulling out dusty tombs, filling my arms with as many as I could manage.

He's still our dad, Eric argued. Now that Grandma's dead, it's only a matter of time before it's just the two of us. And can we be honest, Uncle Jake's a few whiskey bottles shy from dead himself. He squatted down beside me and plucked some books from the shelf. It'd be nice not to burn every bridge in this family. Can't burn a bridge that never existed in the first place, can't. I said. I stood up and walked to the boxes by the window, then tossed the books in carelessly,

wanting to be done with this as soon as possible. The longer I spent here, the more the memories threatened to come crawling back. Do you ever think about what happened? Eric asked, coming up from behind me and gently placing his books in the box. He frowned at my disorganized mess and began restacking them neatly. No. Really? Eric didn't sound convinced.

I think about it almost every day. It was horrible. I didn't say anything. Instead, I walked back to the bookshelf and grabbed another armful of books, then stomped back to the box and dumped them in. Hey, Eric said. Listen, jackass, you could at least have a little courtesy. He gestured to the books he was originally.

ranging inside, neat and tidily with their spines facing upward. One of them was called Mysteries of the Cryptids. I looked away. See the effort I'm putting in? He said. Do you really need to chuck your shit everywhere? Sorry, man, I just don't like this place, I said. I shook my head, feeling a chill wash over me.

I want to finish this and go. I, but don't you think talking could be good?" Not really, no, I replied. I stalked towards the den. Time to put some space between me and this conversation. He grabbed my arm. Please, Matt. It was twelve years ago, but it feels like a lifetime.

I don't even know if I'm remembering real events anymore, or just inventing things in my head. said. I shrugged him off, but his expression was pleading. He needed this. You won't even talk to me about it. I have no clue if what I remember even happened. With a sigh, I funked down in my grandmother's rocking chair. It sat in front of her red brick fireplace, now filled with only the ghost of old charred logs. I idly thought to myself, that I'd probably never be used again, because I planned on tearing this cabin down and leaving it for the insects. It would be better that way.

I only wished I could tear down the memories with it. A week at this cabin had gifted me with a decade of alcoholism, chronic depression, and a side of insomnia. It took a cocktail of prescription meds just to get me to sleep these days, and when I did, It was a coin toss whether or not I'd experience sleep paralysis. And now Eric wanted to dig those memories up? I flexed my right hand, staring at the thick scars that wound their way across it. Even now, all these years later, I could still see the blood, smell it, taste it.

My heart started racing just thinking about it, and I forced myself to look away. I focused on the hearth before me, and something caught my eye. What the hell? I muttered, leaning forward. It wasn't a log. It was something much smoother. The shape was all wrong, though. I left the chair and knelt down, sifting through the ashes and burnt timber, uncovering

the curious object with mounting horror. I pulled it free, brushing away flakes of ashes. with my fingertips. My arm quivered. Eric, I said, pushing the word from my mouth. What's up? He called. I swallowed. Is this griff? Footsteps sounded from the other room, and he came bounding in, face brimming with excitement.

You found griff? I didn't say anything. I stared at the first. skull in my hand, doing my best to hold back the floodgates of memories. My eyes found Erics, and I held the skull aloft. What the hell? He shouted, stumbling forward. He dropped to his knees, looking at the skull in terror.

No way, that's griff. No way. He shook his head furiously. What would he be doing in the damn fireplace, Matt? I didn't know what to say. I knew there was no reason he should have been in the fireplace. None. No dog would willingly let himself burn to death.

Maybe it's a coyote, Eric reasoned, tripping over his words. Grandma probably killed it and chucked it in here so the scent wouldn't attract other animals, and... There's no coyotes out here. You know that. I said. I dropped the skull, and it cracked against the solid wood floor. A shutter ran through me. And it's way too small to be a wolf, I said.

Eric looked on the verge of tears. Griff was probably the only happy memory we had of this horrible place. Matt. Why would she do that? A thousand reasons crossed my mind. All of them beginning and ending with one night twelve years ago. I stood up from the fireplace, my feet feeling weak and my sense of balance waning. I fell back into the rocking chair and it croaked a haunting welcome.

All right, I said quietly. I think it's time to talk about what happened when we were kids. Eric sat down across from me in one of the old wicker chairs we'd helped Grandma make. Where should we start? He said quietly. He stared at me with a gravity I'd never seen in him before, his hands fidgeting with a chair's wooden armrests. Poor kid was nervous. I knew a thing or two about that.

I took a deep breath and placed my face in my hands, wishing I'd never quit smoking. Wishing, I'd never agreed to come out here. My heart thrummed, and my palms were slick with sweat. Meanwhile, my thoughts couldn't stop toying with the idea that maybe confronting these memories was a mistake, maybe acknowledging them, would somehow make them real. Matt? He said softly. Let's start with a man by the river, I said, forcing my sense.

to look him in the eyes. You remember him? Eric's expression said it all. He remembered. His eyes darted to the front door, still swinging open in the breeze from when we both walked inside. I'm going to grab the door,

he said. I didn't say anything, but I didn't need to. We both knew it would be easier to talk about these things with some degree of security between us and the outdoors. He stalked off, shut the door, and then returned a moment later. We were what?

Eleven then? I said. He nodded. Though we were twins, we looked nothing alike. Eric was thin and ganglady, with giant glasses and a passion for all things pop culture. I was short, a bit overweight, and had an unhealthy addiction to every form of metal under the sun. My hearing was practically shot, but the wall of noise that music created was the only time I felt like I got any peace and quiet. It was the second day at the cabin, I think.

Eric said, looking out the window towards where the river flowed, just past the tree line. You and I were out having to swim. Yeah. And he was watching us on the other side, I replied. How long was he there for? I shrugged. You were the one who spotted him. I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't pointed him out. Tough to miss, really. He had that beige ball cap and... The mask, yeah, I interrupted.

Who wore a mask out in the woods? The kind of guy who liked to watch kids swim, I guess. It was a wolf mask. A really well-made one. Thinking back on it, it almost looked like a real world. wolf. Remember what he said? It was impossible to forget. His words had been the catalyst to everything, the jump-off point for the worst experience of our lives. It's nearly dark, I said. It's nearly dark, Eric repeated. The two of us were silent for a moment, the shrinking daylight, and the implications of what that meant not lost on us. Maybe we were. we should do this in the car on the way down?" he said.

I shook my head. I don't think it works like that. And I think you know that now, too. Standing up, I crossed the room and grabbed my leather jacket from the coat rack. I threw it over my shoulders like a poncho. Now that the sun had dipped behind the tree line, the temperature had dropped with it. You're remembering things clearly again, aren't you? I know I am.

He frowned, avoiding my gaze. We both knew this wasn't a normal cabin. And deep down, I guess we both came to realize we couldn't run from our family history forever. Eric was right. If we didn't confront this now, then we'd probably be running from it for the rest of our lives. I suppose things do feel clearer, he said. Being here feels strange, like everything's coming back as vivid as that. day it happened. I knew what he meant. I could picture the man by the river almost perfectly

now. Dirty jeans, a checkered shirt, and that mask, it had to have been torn right off of a real wolf because I remember the smell. It smelled dead. Decaying. Eric plugged his nose, contorting his face in revulsion. You smell that too? I asked. He nodded. What is that? That's what he smelled like. The man by the river. I'd forgotten how horrible it was, but this cabin's bringing it all back to me, I said.

I glanced around the dimly lit room where shadows grew in the corners as the sun fell lower in the sky. He told us to come to him. After warning that it was nearly dark, he said he had a. gift for us. You thought he was Uncle Jake. I remember that. Yeah, I mean, who else could it have been? I replied. Grandma had built her cabin on the land of an abandoned firewatch outpost, far from the sleepy village below. Nobody lives up here, I said. It was only the four of us that week. When you swam over, Eric said quietly. Did he say? anything to you?

I don't think so, I said. I closed my eyes and drifted back to that moment. Twelve years ago, in spite of it being the height of summer, the river was freezing that day, and the current had made it hard to get across. The man stood on the other side, waiting patiently, though. He was holding the gift behind his back, I said. I remember thinking it was a fishing rod. Eric cracked a bittersweet smile.

We'd both been badgering Uncle Jake to let us use his fishing rod. I, too, remember hoping that's what it was. Talking about this was cathartic, but torturous all at once. My mouth felt dry as a bone. When I got closer, I got this weird feeling, I said. Like something was wrong. Yeah? Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, it's hard to explain, but it's like, even then I knew something wasn't right. I gave in to the memory, letting it swallow me in my search for answers. Grandma's cabin seemed to fade away, replaced by a warm summer day. The river rumbled behind me now, and the mountain breeze caught at my wet, shaggy brown hair. Above, the sun beat down furiously, dressing me in a full body. sunburn. I realized it wasn't Uncle Jake when I stepped out of the river. He never told me that before. I don't think I ever let myself believe it, I replied. In the cabin, the branches swayed above us, their long arms scratching at the roof and the rising wind. So? So what?

So what made you realize it wasn't him? He said. Oh, I chewed on my lip. My eyes staring at griff's cracked skull on the floor. It was because he twitched. Twitched? Yeah, I said, looking Eric in the eyes. My voice cracked, despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

His entire body twitched. like some kind of predator reaction. Like a cat seeing a mouse, I said. Or a wolf seeing a rabbit, he replied. The implication hung in the air between us. We were prey. I wanted to run back into the river, I said. I wanted to scream for help. I wanted to hide. But he held the gift out. The book Eric said. Yeah, yeah, that's right. The Mysteries of the Cryptids. I'd gotten halfway back across the river when Uncle Jake came down.

I continued. He was on your side of the river and dressed entirely different from the man. I paused, recognizing this was one of the memories I'd never fully accepted. How could I have? it meant I was more broken than I was comfortable admitting. That's when I realized we weren't alone on the mountain, I said. I opened my eyes and pulled myself out of the memory. It felt a little disorienting, like my senses were being thrown about in some sort of amnesiac tornado, but I did what I could to re-ground myself in reality. I focused on my weight in the rocking chair,

the cool feeling of leather around my shoulders and the roaring wind outside. Eventually, the cabin returned to focus. Eric ran a hand through his curly brown hair. You think that maybe? Outside, the sound of shattering glass rang out. Eric and I jumped to our feet. My heart thundered in my chest. The two of us stood frozen, each knowing we needed to ask.

but not knowing how. Being the older twin, I breathed deep and stepped forward, forcing my body to act in spite of its fear. I slid along the wall toward the four-pane window. It was dusk now. And the last rays of sunlight barely pierced the thick pine trees. Darkness began to overtake the landscape,

and the once lush tree line now looked more like a gaping, nightmarish maw. I peeked out the window at an angle so that I wasn't squarely in front of it in case anybody was watching from outside. Shit, I said, catching a view of my car. A massive broken branch lay flat against its now equally broken windshield. What? Eric took a furtive step forward. Is somebody there? No, I replied. I pulled my jacket from around my shoulders and shoved my arms through the sleeves, zipping it up proper. A branch just smashed my windshield.

Story time's over. We're getting out of here. Eric burst out laughing, his hand on his chest. Holy shit, Matt. That sounds scared the crap out of me. It was just a tree branch? Yeah, I said bitterly. storming from the room and toward the front door, just a tree branch smashing a windshield that

I can't afford to fix. What a damn relief. I'm sorry, man, Eric said, jogging after me. He wasn't really sorry, but I couldn't blame him. That sound could have been about a thousand worse things in a stupid branch. Even still, it wasn't in my budget. I gripped the handle of the front door and flung it open, preparing for a chilly drive down the mountain. And then I stumbled backwards. My breath caught itself in my chest. I opened my mouth to say something. Anything. But the words weren't there. Behind me, I heard Eric mumble asoft. Oh. Then a loud crash. Had he fainted? No. This wasn't happening. Please don't let this be happening."

A boot stepped past the doorway, creaking on the cabin's old wooden floorboards. With it, came a stench of decay. I reached blindly, desperately around me, unwilling to take my eyes off of the figure, but also needing a weapon. Anything. I only found empty air. Jake had already moved most of grandma's things. With each step the intruder took, I took one back, until finally I came up against the far wall.

The figure stood framed in the dark of the hallway, a ball cap on its head, and two glowing, yellow eyes. It's nearly dark, it said. I shook Eric. waking him from his feigning spell. He sat up grogly, rubbing the back of his head, where he knocked it against the hardwood. What happened? He muttered. How to say this? A lot, I replied. He blinked, and his eyes scanned the room. Then he froze, his hand gripping my arm as he looked up at the man by the river, standing before us, dressed in his beige ball cap. checkered shirt and dirty jeans. The wolf mask he wore reeked of decay, and its eyes glowed a faint yellow.

It's nearly dark, the man said. Yeah, I know, I said irritably. You all right, Eric? He looked from the man back to me, his mind probably reeling. What's going on? He whispered. I shrugged. It was the truth. I had no idea what was going on. When the man had cornered me at the end of the hallway, I expected myself to be torn limb from limb, maybe have my teeth made into a nice necklace. Instead, he just said it was nearly dark and stood there expectantly. It took me a few moments before I realized he wasn't going to attack me.

And that's when I awkwardly walked around him. and came to check on Eric. I don't think he's going to hurt us, I said. Not that I knew that for sure, but I figured if we'd survive this long, then we might be in the clear. Although, I don't really know what his deal is. I said. Eric stood, steadying himself against me. He studied the man.

What if he's worn in us? What if he was worn in us back then, too? The book flashed in my mind. The Mysteries of the Cryptids. A pulp fiction novel the man had given me during our last encounter. Back when I was just a kid, Eric had packed it into one of Grandma's moving boxes, not even realizing it. If he is, then he probably wants us to read that book, I said. I marched from the room, past the man, and tore open the box of books.

I rifled through it, tossing whatever I didn't read in every which direction. Finally, at the bottom, I found it. I picked it up and ran my fingers over its faded cover. The thing was in pretty bad shape, with some of the pages fused together from water damage during its river crossing. The illustration on the front was of a Sasquatch being strangled by a sea monster. Lovely. Is this what you want us to read?

I asked the man. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Let me guess, I said. Crossing the room back to Eric. It's nearly dark. Don't be a dick, Eric muttered. He held out a hand for the book, and I passed it to him gladly.

Out of the two of us, Eric was the academic. If there was a mystery to be solved in those pages, then he would be the one to do it. This thing looks like it was written in the 50s, he said, looking over its cover, right down to the art style. He flipped the book in his hands, scanning the text on the back, and reading it aloud. A compendium of the greatest mysteries known to man, cryptids have long since fascinated the scientific community. Though their existence is highly contested, here are three. great tales, sure to frighten and entertain. He furrowed his brow, his eyes re-scanning the text, as if he might have missed something.

A moment later, he shook his head. This just looks like an old monster novel. He stared at the man. Is this a prank? I mean, if it is, it's pretty good. How'd you know we were coming back up here? The man didn't speak. Eric looked at me and sighed,

I guess we can read it. Sure, I said, plucking the book from his grip. We'll read it on the way back down the mountain. I stuffed the book in my jacket pocket and made for the front door. The man stepped in front of me. It's nearly dark. He said, You're right.

And that's our cue, Eric. Let's go. Eric looked at me in disbelief. Matt, this is practically what we've been waiting for. The answers are here, I mean. He gestured incredulously at the man. Here he is, and he isn't even trying to eat us or whatever. Don't you want to figure this out?

Look, I said. Nobody said we needed to sort this shit out tonight. We can take the book, do a novel study back at Uncle Jakes, and then come up here with plenty of daylight hours and piece it all together, I said. A chill ran through me. Like the memory of the man, the memory of our first night was returning to, and I wasn't ready to face that again. Talking was one thing, but this therapeutic walk-down memory lane. had grown a bit too real for my liking. Sound good?

I said. Eric stared at me, with stubborn defiance. If we'd inherited anything from our late grandmother, it was our unfailing resistance to having our minds changed after they'd been made up. Luckily for me, I was more stubborn by a mile, and Eric knew that. Sure enough, he folded his arms and looked side-long to the winter. window." All right, fine," he said.

We'll leave tonight, but I'm not kidding about this. We do as you say, study that book and then come back." I nodded, and I meant it. I hated this, don't get me wrong. It scared me in all the wrong ways, but I'd been through enough hours of therapy and dumped enough money into booze to know that if I didn't sort this shit out now. then I'd either end up dead or bankrupt. I promise you we'll be back tomorrow, I said.

Eric waved me off. Sure, whatever, let's go. I let out a sigh of relief, thankful that Eric was much more reasonable than myself. All right, Wolfie, you heard us. We'll be back first thing tomorrow, I said. I gave him an awkward half salute and moved to step past. him, but he grabbed me by the wrist. It's nearly dark, he said.

I tried to pull my arm from his grasp, but his grip was ironclad. I get that. That's sort of why we want to get the hell out of here, I replied. I could feel my wrist bruising as his callous hand squeezed. Get off of him, Eric said, grabbing the man's finger. and trying to pry them free. I brought my other hand around and did what I could to help, but it was like trying to pull apart a vice clamp.

It's nearly dark. The man growled. His voice now guttural and beastlike. It's nearly dark. His wolf teeth drips saliva, and his eyes flared with a wild rage. Something agonizing dug into my arm, and I realized claws were growing from his fingers, piercing into my skin so that blood ran down them.

Stop, I said, certain that in any moment my wrist would be ground to dust. Please! The man's body twitched, and he pulled me effortlessly toward his jaws. The reek was overwhelming. I gagged my body in sensory overload. With a violent jerk, I felt my wrist snap as he tossed me sideways. My nose collided against the wall with a dull crunch and pain exploded across my face. I struggled onto my hands and knees.

My body quaked from the agony, my vision blurring and eyes ringing. Something dripped under the floor. and I wasn't sure if it was tears or blood. Eric rushed to my side. I shrugged him off, standing on my own two feet, so that I could look at the wolf-faced bastard in the eyes. If this guy was going to kill us, I wasn't going to take it lying down.

I'd make him earn it. I dashed into the den, Eric staring after me dumbfounded. There, by the fireplace, Exactly what I was looking for. I gripped the fire iron, holding it before me with my good hand, and rushed back into the kitchen. Get behind me, Eric! I shouted. We're getting the hell out of here.

Eric didn't move. Had he seriously given up? No, no, it wasn't that. It was that his attention had been stolen by something else. He stood, gazing, transferex. fixed out of the four-pane window. Between my broken wrist and smashed nose, I could hardly think past the agonizing pain rioting through me, but I still found the will to fight. Eric? He was sightseeing.

Matt? He muttered. Get behind me, Eric! He turned toward me, his hand pointing hopelessly toward the forepane. Something's out there, Matt. My legs felt weak, and for a moment I forgot about my wrist and nose. I forgot about the throbbing hurt. What's out there?

I asked. Memories clawed at the edges of my mind, and I pushed them down. I needed to focus. Eric looked back to the window, and a moment later, an ear-splitting roar rang out, so loud that I couldn't tell. which direction it came from. It felt like it was everywhere all at once. Get away from the window, I shouted. He took a couple unsteady steps backward. It's starting. I turned to the man, who stood as still as ever. What the hell are you doing to us? I screamed. I brought the fire iron down on him,

but he grabbed it and tossed it aside. as if it were a piece of styrofoam. It's dark, he growled. A thud sounded against the cabin's heavy door. Then another, the timber of the entire structure shook, dust falling down from the rafters, and whatever Uncle Jake had failed to take with him crashing to the floor, Matt, Eric said, inching toward me.

It's happening. again. I swallowed. Memories rushed around me. My mind smothered by them. We need to hide, I said hastily, anxiously. Eric was sweating, his face a mask of pain. Where? This is where we hid last time. Then we have to hide somewhere else, I said. I didn't know what was happening or why we were reliving this, but I knew the man wasn't going to help us. At best, he was a neutral party. At worst, he'd kept us here to die. I gripped one of Grandma's wooden kitchen chairs, and with as much strength as I had in my right hand, flung it clear through the four-pane window. The front door exploded, flying across the vestibule and colliding against the far wall with a deafening

crash. Something screeched, then stepped inside with a thunderous footfall. I didn't need to say a damn thing. Eric had already climbed through the shattered window. He reached inside and helped me to get myself up to the sill, then I rolled over it and landed in the dirt outside. Throwing his arm under my own, he heaved me to my feet. I immediately noticed a tire where it shouldn't have been, with a massive bite mark in it. My eyes drifted to my car in horror. Its roof had been caved in, and half of its wheels were flattened. I spared a moment to look back at the man. He was motionless, though it was hard to call him a man anymore. The mask looked to effused with his neck, and his hands, or paws, were now covered in fur, with long, dark.

claws. His jeans had been torn, and he stood upon two legs, curved in the fashion of a bipedal wolf. His jaws salivated as he stared back at me. We're going to read it, I shouted at him. I don't know why I did, or if he could even understand me. All I knew was that he'd given me that book for a reason, and whatever was happening was intrinsically linked to it if there was an answer to this. It was in those pages. I felt myself being dragged away by Eric. All right, Matt, let's go!

The two of us fled into the tree line, our footsteps muffled by the sounds of the cabin being torn to pieces. Eric and I ran so hard that my lungs felt like they'd caught fine. Fire. Exhausted. I fell to the dirt with a groan. The pain of my smashed face, broken wrist, and a lifetime of poor decisions had finally caught up with me. I'm done. I breathed. Eric doubled back, crouching next to me. Take it easy, man. Look. He pointed ahead. We're nearly to the river. Let's get you some water. So we were. Now that I was catching my breath. The rest of my senses seemed to sharpen again. I could hear the rushing current just barely through

the howling wind. I pushed myself to my feet, and the two of us made our way to the bank, where I dropped to my knees and slurped as much water as my mouth could hold. "'Pass me the book,' Eric said. I reached inside my jacket and handed it to him, its pages rolling in the storm. He held it closed, up to the light of the moon. The entire time you had this, he said, squinting at the cover. And you never noticed the author? I looked at him, wiping dribbles of water from my mouth. I mean, it's not like I had it my whole life.

I left it here when we went home, I said. I really didn't need any mementos of that week. Who wrote it? Grandma, he said incredulously. He turned the book toward me and jabbed a finger at the bottom text. G. Fasdrow. Well, I'll be damned. Don't sweat it, Eric said, shaking his head.

I missed it on first glance, too. He glanced around, no doubt scouting for a place free from wind with enough moonlight to read by. Eventually, he settled on a large boulder near the water, shielded from the storm. by a gnarled fir tree. He clamored up to it with some effort. Did you know she was a writer? He called down to me. Not at all, I said. Come to think of it, I had no idea about anything Grandma did, besides come over every Christmas and bake apple tarts. Mom never talked about it. Eric flipped the book open to the first page and adjusted his glasses. Mine keeping a lookout while I peruse this thing? I nodded, rising from the riverbed and looking up and down the shore. No sign of the

man and no sign of the beast that destroyed the cabin either. So far so good. I cradled my broken wrist and breathed the sigh of relief, pushing it out of my blood-caped nostrils in a painful snort. I hiked up the side of the bank, getting to higher ground so I could better keep watch over the area. As I did, the book played in my mind. The mystery of the cryptids. Why would Grandma write something like that anyway? For kicks? She'd never so much as mention the Lochness monster or abominable snowman growing up,

and here she was a supposed authority on them. It seemed bizarre to me. But then all of this did. Had she known about the man, too? What about the beast? She must have. Something splashed in the river, and the hairs on my neck stood on end. I swallowed, my eyes searching up and down the running current, scanning every outcropped rock and wayward branch.

Just a fish, hopefully. Seconds turned to minutes. The only sound coming from the croak of river toads and Eric flipping through the pages of mysteries. Maybe I was making a bigger deal about things than I needed to. I closed my eyes and tried the breathing exercises my therapist recommended. Then another splash. This one closer. Louder.

I strained my vision. Even beneath the glow of the full moon, the river's dancing waves were difficult to keep track of. Light gleamed off of them one moment, then died the next. Small flickers caught my eye, but when I'd look, I'd see only dark water staring back at me. Was something swimming toward us? Eric flipped another page of the book nonchalantly, his expression thoughtful, eyebrows furrowed in focus. He hadn't noticed a thing.

Something felt wrong, though. It was the same feeling I'd had when I first came upon the man by the river, like my mind was picking up on things that I hadn't yet fully processed. Eric, I called, taking a couple steps on the stone shore. Come away from the water. He looked up, perplexed. Why? He adjusted his glasses and looked around, holding his hair against the wind.

Is something here? I need the light of the clearing to read, Matt. Just get off. the rock, man. Come over to me, I said, glancing upward. The moon shone, pale and ominous through drifting clouds. There's plenty of light over here. I'm nearly finished, just relax. Now, man, I said. Growning, he creased his page and closed the book, then slid down the big rock carefully. He He steadied himself on the wet clacking stones as he walked toward me. For God's sake, Matt.

Another splash. The day we met the man by the river, I said, the pain in my wrist fading against the backdrop of my mounting fear. I came back down to the water. What? Eric said, bracing himself against the roaring wind. I forgot the book. Jake brought us down fishing rods, remember?

I was so excited that I'd forgotten all about mysteries. I left it on the riverbed, I said. I was so transfixed by the river now. Something was in there. I knew it. When I came back down to get it, I saw something in the waves, I continued. Like a fish? Eric said, finally reaching me.

He turned, following my gaze to the river, though he looked skeptical. I shook my head. Bigger, I think. I don't know. I just grabbed the book and ran. Another splash, this one near the shore. I backed up, nearly slipping on the stones. Behind us, the pitch black of the woods, and in front of us, whatever lurked in the water.

You hear that? Eric nodded, stashing the book in his pocket. After what happened earlier, I say we don't take any chances. Let's find somewhere safer to read. Where, though, I thought. The woods? We'd get lost, and there was no question of that. Back to the cabin, or whatever was left of it?

No point. The car was totaled, and besides, whatever beast had come knocking didn't sound nearly as reasonable as the man. It was probably still there. No, we were resigned to the river. We just need to be careful and stay as far from the shore as we could. Good Lord, said a voice nearby. I jumped, my arm flying in front of Eric instinctively. You boys have really worked yourselves up, haven't you?

I wheeled around to see a familiar face standing at the height of the riverbank, a stone in his hand. He hurled it, and it landed in the water with a heavy splash. Uncle Jake? He began walking down the bank, slowly, with a sway in his step, like he'd been drinking. Good news, boys, he said. He shot us a smile, but it felt wrong. Horrible.

His eyes were unfocused, and his tongue lulled from his mouth. I just found Griff. and he can't wait to see ya." Uncle Jake ambled toward us, his pace irregular. One moment he moved slowly, the next frantically. His head seemed loose on his neck, rolling about with his momentum. I was worried about you, too, he said. Matt?

Eric muttered. I held up my hand indicating for him. to be quiet. I was uncomfortable about all of this too, and Jake didn't seem like himself. After everything else that had happened tonight, I wasn't taking chances with anybody, family or otherwise. But still, I needed to know what the situation was. I needed to hear him speak. My eyes darted around, taking stock of our surroundings. If it came to a fight, I wanted to be ready. I cursed my myself for letting the man take the fire-iron. Still, there was always the river, and in a two against one, Eric and I had a chance against our uncle, even with my busted wrist. I swiveled

my gaze back to Jake. He was only a couple car lengths away from us now, and I could see him more clearly. His eyes were pale, milky, and faded, like he was drugged. His mess of dark care shot out from all angles beneath his trucker cap. I'd never seen him in such a sorry state. Boys. He said, Burpin. I just need to talk to you for a second. About Griff. He's just up ahead, but he's scared of the water. He gestured toward the wood, swaying on the spot. Come see him. I didn't say anything. I knew Griff was dead. I pulled his scorched skull out of the fireplace myself, and Eric had been there with me. Jake took a couple frantic steps forward.

I recoiled, putting myself in front of Eric. Call it older brother instincts. Call it stupidity. All I knew was this cabin wasn't going to claim any more of my family. Aw, Jake said, stopping and tilting his head. Are you afraid? Another burp. Of me?

What's going on here? I said quietly. I'm talking to my nephews, he chuckled, feet dancing to keep his balance. Come on, Matthew, Eric. Let's go. Another step forward. Don't take another step, I said. Stay the hell back.

He paused. His demeanor. changing. His face drooped, his sing-song smile, replaced by a snarl, showing a row of yellowed teeth. You boys were supposed to join us a long time ago, you know. But she got soft. No, she didn't, Eric said, stepping out from behind me. He held the book in his hands, holding it up to Jake. She realized how sick this whole thing was. She spared us. I had no idea what either of them were talking about, but clearly Eric had read something in mysteries while up on that rock, and whatever he'd read.

Jake knew about it, too. Spared you, Jake spat. He took off his cap and chucked it to the side, the corner of his mouth twitching. At the cost of the rest of us, maybe. He took a shambling step forward, his eyes cold with menace. What makes you better than me? I knelt down, using Eric's tall frame as cover from Jake's vision. My good hand found a decent-sized rock, and I clutched it, rising back to my feet and placing it in my jacket pocket discreetly.

We're not better than you, Eric says. But that doesn't mean we deserve to become monsters, either. Deserved to become monsters, I thought? What the hell had Eric read? You think I'm a monster? Jake bellowed. Eyes bulging. He slammed his finger to his chest.

I'm a product of progress, just like you should have been. My heart thundered. I didn't know this man anymore. You been drinking, Jake? I hope the answer was yes. I needed something to make sense tonight. Drinking? Jake said.

His wild cataract eyes looking from me to my brother. You ain't told him yet, have you, Eric? Didn't invite him to the book club. What's he talking about, I asked. Eric swallowed. He's talking about mysteries. No shit, I said, getting in pain. What about it? Help me out here, man."

I'm sorry, he said, shaking his head. More anxiety. When it came down on Eric, it came down thick. The book's written like an autobiography, Matt. I thought it was a stupid pulp novel grammar wrote, but it's like research notes, man. Research notes? Jake took another half step forward, and my hand tightened. around the stone.

Stay back. I'm not kidding. He smiled. Come on, Matt. I've never hurt you before, have I? Yeah, research notes. Eric continued. I didn't think much of it, honestly.

Thought it was part of the book's gimmick, but seeing Jake like this. Jake hunched his back, hands pumping in and out of fists. Like what, Eric? He growled. Don't talk to him, asshole, I said. Jake was bigger than me by about half, and in his current state, more unpredictable by a mile. If he came at me, I'd have one shot to clock him with a stone. Talk to me, I said.

Ah, talk to you. But you're so boring, Matt. All you've ever done is bitch complain and mope. His eyes drifted by. behind me. To Eric. Your brother's always been the interest in one. And now he's even gone and figured out my mother's secret.

Eric, I said. I really need you to get me up to speed. The book, man, it's English. What about the book? I kept one eye on Jake, my hands gripping the stone so hard that I could feel my palm cramping. "'G—Grama wasn't some writer documenting cryptids, Matt,' he said. He brandished the paperback, then snapped it open, flipping through it aggressively,

until he hard-stopped on a page. He thrust it in my face. I pulled my head back and squinted. The ink had faded from years of aging, not to mention the water damage from the river crossing. The left page looked like a list of ingredients. pencil markings over the print, and beside them a set of tiny, bulleted instructions. On the right was a diagram, too complex for me to properly make out, given the condition of the book.

Wait, what? Some of the markings look to be runes. No. They were definitely runes. She wasn't looking for cryptids, Matt, Eric said breathlessly. She was making them. Making cryptids? My mind reeled.

How did somebody make a cryptid? What the hell was our grandma doing? I brought a hand in my forehead, wincing as memories hit me like a cement truck. It's medicine, Matthew. Now be still and no crying. We don't want to worry your mom. But I feel fine, Grandma. I don't need any medicine. Everybody needs this medicine. Give me your arm.

What about Eric? He'll get it too. Now give me your arm. Uncle Jake clapped his hands and broke me from my reverie. Oh, good work, Eric. Good work. This is why I always said you'd be great for the cabin. His eyes gleamed. Now, why don't we all go for a little hike as a family? I have something I'd like to show you. After all of this, Eric said, you must be drunk. I don't think he's drunk, I said.

The memory subsiding. The sound of the rushing river returned, along with the frigid chill of the wind. Why were these memories so invasive? So vivid. I shook the thought away. I needed to get us out of this situation first. He's taken something to keep him normal, I said. What?

Eric said. He glanced at mysteries in his hands. Did you read this when we were kids, Matt? I shook my head. No. I never was the reader between us, was I? My hands found the stone in my pocket, and I thumbed at it. feeling the weight, the shape.

I remember Grandma giving me a kind of medicine, I said. My stomach felt upside down just talking about this. I hardly knew what it even meant. I think Jake's taken some medicine himself, maybe something that keeps him from becoming whatever Grandma meant for him to be. Jake frowned, his small, milky eyes narrowing. "'Quite the theory, Maddie?' "'Is it?' I said quietly.

He stepped forward, two rapid paces one after another. His body swayed at the sudden stop. From the edges of his mouth, his tongue flicked out, licking at his lips. "'Is that why you're so afraid of me?' he said. "'Because you think there's a monster underneath.' "'I'm not afraid of you.' I lied, squeezing the stone. Jake let loose a howling laugh.

Matt? Eric said, stepping closer to me. I don't think we should be provoking him. Too late for that, I thought. Jake was here to finish something, and it involved us. I wasn't interested in letting him see it through. Tell you what, uncle, I said, stepping forward. His eyes darted from my striding feet.

to my face. He looked offended that I'd even considered myself in the same league as him. Walk away right now, and I won't murder you. His shoulders thrust back, and his head jerked forward. His milk-white eyes bulged. Murder me? He said in a voice that was beginning to sound nothing like his own. Does your therapist know your...

delusional. His entire body tremored, his feet stumbling in an effort to stay upright. Something's happening, Eric said. Now cut it out, Matt. A lot was happening. More would soon be happening. I could guarantee that. Now give me an opening, dear uncle. My therapist thinks I've got the right idea, actually. That my family is a bunch of hillbilly trash. I am, Jake said, dropping to a knee and snarling. A product of progress. Whatever he'd taken to keep him level, his emotions were throwing it out of whack.

Show me, I said, doing my best to keep my voice level. With a growl, he launched himself toward me. his catatonic limbs flying about, slaves to his own momentum. I took a step backward, steadying myself on my rear leg while I pulled out the stone with my good hand. I smashed the stone against his skull with all the force I could manage. I heard a sharp crack, and then a groan as my uncle dropped wordlessly onto the rocky shore. Eric and I stood there transfixed for several moments, my heart feeling like it might beat out of my chest.

My breaths came in heaves. Was he unconscious? You were trying to provoke him? Eric said, stepping carefully around the other side of Jake's unmoving body. I nodded. Yeah. Now let's make sure he stays down, I said. I lifted the rock in my hand.

Ready to bash my uncle's skull to a pulp. Eric pushed me away. What the hell? He said. You can't kill him, Matt. I can't kill him, I thought. I did my best not to punch Eric's square in the jaw. Look around you, man.

We're screwed out here. You think Jake's a friend of ours? That he's going to help us down the mountain. I took a few steps away, running a stressed hand through my long. long hair. What do you think's going to happen when he wakes up, huh? You think he just calls it a day and lets us go?" I don't know."

Eric stuttered. But I know we're not murderers. We're not... Like him. His eyes drifted to Jake's unmoving body. His expression torn. If we do that, how are we any better? I stomped toward him and grabbed him.

him roughly by his shirt. How are we any better? I growled. How about we're better because we didn't lure two nephews out here to try and get them to become Dracula's? How about we're better because we didn't give two kids a lifetime of trauma? Eric was silent. His eyes wet behind his glasses. I let my hand fall from his shirt and turned my attention to Jake. His eyes were closed, but after what I'd seen in him earlier, I didn't trust him to stay out much longer. Something was trying to break free of him. Something horrible. I ran a thumb along the stone, biting my lip, weighing my options. Matt, Eric said, his hand on my shoulder, voice cracking. We have so many good memories with Uncle Jake.

You remember fishing. Remember fishing, I thought. As if fishing could make up for this. Whoever Uncle Jake had been or pretended to be, that wasn't what he was anymore. My stomach sunk as I imagined him waking up now, turning on us. But without the handicap of whatever medicine he'd taken to keep him human. I don't have a choice, I said. And I brought the stone down.

The snap of Jake's cheekbones filled my ears, drowning the sound of the river, the roar of wind. I brought the stone down again to another horrid, dull crunch. Eric grabbed at my jacket, trying to pull me off, but I threw him backward with my good hand. He might have been a foot taller than me, but he weighed close to a hundred pounds less. I was doing this, and no one was going to stop me. I brought the stone down again and again. Blood caught in my eye, and I paused with my arm in the air, still clutching the stone. Jake's face had been smashed apart, his orbital bones caved in, and his eyes rolled from their split-open sockets.

I dropped the stone to the ground, heaving breath after breath. I blinked, wiping at my face with my sleeve and looked down to see a thick layer of crimson on my arm. Are you finished? Eric said softly, his voice uneven. I turned around to face him, mouth half open with a thousand reasons on my lips. Reasons that I'd done this. Reasons. I had to do this.

But they all evaporated when I saw his red tear-streaked eyes. His hair was even more disheveled than usual, like he'd been tearing at it for the past five minutes, and his face was as pale as the moon. He stifled a sob, because I'm pretty sure he's dead now, Matt. I looked back to Jake's corpse and slowly rose to my feet. His face was mangled. Bone splinters lay scattered around what remained of his cheeks. I forced myself to look away, but there was something oddly intoxicating about it, the way the blood pooled beneath us had, the way his limbs had stopped twitching after my fifth strike with the stone.

I licked my lips. The medicine appears to be working well. You can go and play with your brother now, Matthew. We should be okay now, I said, swallowing. My head felt woozy, hazy. Should we? Eric said, pulling off his glasses and dabbing at his eyes with a sleeve. Are you okay? What? I shook my head. Of course I was okay. I was the older brother, wasn't I? I could handle this. I handled this for years. Just another,

notch on the trauma belt. No big deal. Why were my eyes ringing? I'm fine, I said. Okay, Eric said. Was that anger in his voice? It got a little hard to tell back there, he said. Aye, my heartbeat slowed and the world refocused. I had to. I looked at Jake and felt a sickness grow in my stomach. Had I really done that to him? Look, he was going to hurt us, Eric. I said the words, because they were the words that seemed right to say. What was I supposed to do? Let him drag us off to God knows where and turn us into—turn us into what? Eric said. Monsters? I took a step back, feeling my vindication, crumbling against his words. No, man. Man.

Cryptids. I fell off. Strange. Unwell. I licked my lips again. When did they get so dry? Just give me a second, will ya? He didn't say anything.

Just stared at me with this crushing look of disappointment. Where tears had streaked his cheeks earlier, they were now a bright red, flush with anger. Resentment. Heaving a sigh. I walked off down the riverside, trying to piece together what had just happened. What might still be happening. Above, thunder cracked and rain pelted my face. The storm was worsening.

Of course it was. He was going to kill us. I mumbled to myself, hoping that saying the words aloud would help me understand them. Or at least he was going to hurt us. Turn us into something horrible, definitely. I had to kill him first. I had to. I didn't have a choice, I said.

No, a voice somewhere inside me said. I did have a choice. He was unconscious, wasn't he? We could have run. Left him there. I chose to kill him. More thunder. More rain.

More rain. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, shivering as I did my best to come to terms with what happened. There's no going back now, I said quietly. Doing this self-talk, my therapist recommended. I have to accept it and move forward. I made a difficult choice to protect my brother, and... Beside me, the river gurgled and a large bubble grew on the surface. popping with a wet slosh.

Had the current shifted? I slammed my eyes shut, trying to re-ground myself in the moment. I did my breathing exercises, focused on the cold rain, the howling wind, and the pain in my wrist. Then a splash,

bigger, louder than any before, like an entire tree fell into the damn drink. Eric, I called. No time to feel sorry for myself. We weren't safe yet. No, Matt, he said. He was further up the river. Had he not hurted over the wind?

No, no, look, I said. I jogged back to him, doing my best to ignore my splitting headache, the heavy guilt in my gut. You're right, man. I shouldn't have done that. I don't know why I did or why I didn't listen to you, but the river's current grew still, and something rumbled in the water. Stones rolled from the riverbank into the drink, and a dark shadow began to fill the surface

of the channel. Eric took a step back, eyes wide in terror. I knew exactly what he was thinking, because it was all I could think of, too. Something was in the water. Had Jake summoned it with the stones? "'Earick,' I began, but he turned away from me. He started clamoring up the bank of the river toward the woods. "'Eryk!' I shouted, scrambling after him.

"'Can we talk?' "'I don't really feel like talking right now,' he said bitterly, stalking into the tree line. "'Let's just get away from that damn water!' I reached the top of the bank and then ran to catch up with him. I just need to talk about what happened earlier, please. I don't want to talk about earlier, Eric said. He squinted up at the rainy sky through the forest canopy. The storm's getting worse, and we're not exactly dressed for the weather, he said.

He tugged pointedly at his hoodie, wiping a wet mop of cruelly hair from his forehead. We need to find some shelter. We're not making it down the mountain tonight. That much was true. It was an hour drive just getting up the mountain, and that was without whatever creatures the darkness had coaxed out. We can try the cabin, I said, not feeling much like I deserve to be making suggestions anymore. The beast knows about the cabin, Eric argued. That's assuming the cabin's even still standing.

He shivered, bringing his hood up and over his head. But there's the cave. The cave, I thought. We'd meant to explore it when we were kids, but Grandma had stopped us. She said it was too far from the cabin and that there were cougars in the woods. Bears. Right, I said. Do you remember? Yeah, I remember, Eric said, stepping off.

Uncle Jake was the one who told us about it when we were younger. It's why I suggested it. If she didn't want us going near it and he did, then there's a good chance that's exactly where we need to be going. He said the words with a finality that told me the conversation was over. We walked for 20 minutes in silence. My conscience aided me. The weather beat me.

And my body ached all over. But it was the small voice in the back of my head that haunted me more than anything. familiar but distant, like a faint echo. My mother weeping. Matthew, she said. Please. There it is, Eric said, stopping suddenly. I stumbled nearly colliding with him.

I'd been so lost in my own thoughts that the world sort of melted away. He pointed up a small hill where a pitch-black cave mouth yawned from the earth. It had a large entrance, easily big enough for an entire trailer to fit through. If not, too. Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, turning the flashlight on. He scanned it into the mouth of the cave, and it looked as if the thing went on for some distance. Then the light sputtered, blinking, before vanishing completely. Oh, shit, he said.

Battery's dead. Too many texts to Dad. Mind using yours? Of course, man, I replied. Fumbling into my pocket for my own. Feeling thankful I could be useful again. Feeling thankful I could do something, anything, to make our relationship feel a little normal again. Here, I said, flicking mine on. We stepped into the cave carefully. Our sneakers not ideal for walking on slick, wet,

cavern floors. Our progress came steady, but that was fine by me. I didn't know what we were likely to find in the cave, but I had my suspicions it wouldn't be unguarded. I'd rather see the trap before it was sprung. Do you smell that? Eric said, bringing his finger to his nose. It reeked, like the worst smell I'd ever experienced, and it was getting worse the deeper we went. Yeah, smells like something died in here. Well, that'd be nice, Eric said. But somehow I think it's going to be much worse than that. I nodded.

Probably, I said. More steps in silence, just us and the light of my phone, dancing against slick cavern walls. Did you finish the book? I asked. Most of it, yeah. Most of it? I skimmed some pages. It looks like Grandma had stuffed her notes and do an actual paperback novel, maybe to hide it from visitors.

But she wrote the novel, too, I said, remembering her name on the cover. Seems a lot of trouble to go to, doesn't it? Maybe, Eric said. He stopped suddenly. Wait a second, Matt. You've just made me think of something. Yeah? Actually. He pulled the book from his hoodie and turned the first couple pages.

Bring the light over here for a sec. I came closer, holding my phone aloft so that we could see the book clearly. He slid his finger down the page before jabbing at it with a victorious... Aha! What is it? Have a look, he said, handing me the book. I squinted at the faded lettering, dedicated to my three, little monsters, Jacob, Alice, and Nolan. It's a dedication page, I said, to Uncle Jake,

mom, and Nolan. Eric shook his head, his face a mask of disbelief. I just assumed anything to do with a novel portion I could comfortably ignore. Why bother, right? We wanted to know about the research, what was really going on. But this? Who's Nolan, Matt? I blinked, trying to pull up any memory of the person. Had mom talked about him before she passed? Had dad? I have no idea, I said, feeling useless all over again. This is something, though, he said. His previous coolness, replaced by a sense of academic excitement. If there was one thing that improved Eric's mood, it was solving a problem, or at least getting partway there. She called them her three little monsters, which means...

It means grandma had another son. I finished. He grinned. Exactly. And we've got another uncle. Something moved in the distance. Like a footstep. up, echoing through the cave. Shit, Eric said. The light, Matt.

I was already fumbling with it, my fingers swiping the screen in an anxious flurry. Eventually I managed to shut it down. Darkness engulfed us. Eric, right beside me, disappeared entirely from my view. I reached out, grabbing his arm, and he jumped back. It's me, I whispered. I don't want us losing each other. Right.

Okay, sure. The footsteps echoed closer now, like they sounded distinct from our own. Padded, almost. Like an animal. Like paws. My palms grew slick with sweat. Was it the beast?

Had it found us? A growl reverberated through the cavern. Low and gutterol. monstrous. I squeezed Eric's arm tighter on instinct. I wasn't going to lose him. I couldn't. Then a voice... It's dark. The man was in the cave. His footsteps neared each one coming at a slow, deliberate pace. But then he didn't need to rush. We were trapped, caught in a massive cavern. we knew nothing about, with our only exit blocked by the man himself. He knows we're here, Eric said.

I wanted to tell him to shut up, that there was a chance he didn't, but I knew he was right. In the man's current state, he could almost certainly smell us. My mind shot through a hundred different escape plans, but each one ended up with us being captured or killed, possibly eaten. Eric shifted beside me. What now? We do the only thing we can do, I said quietly, feeling not entirely sure of myself. We retake control.

Retake control? He asked. I took a deep breath, hating myself for what I was about to do, but we were out of options. Running blindly into the cave wasn't on the table. and neither was running blindly into the man. That left one thing. Took you long enough, I said into the dark. The man's footsteps stopped.

Matt, Eric hissed. Nolan, right? I continued, ignoring my brother. You were our grandmother's other son, which means you're our uncle. Silence. Seriously, Eric said. trying to put his hand over my mouth. I pushed them away.

We know what she did to you, what she turned you into. A growl echoed through the cave, low and ragged. Then the footsteps resumed. They were faster now. I sucked in an anxious breath, second-guessing my plan, but I was all in on this now, and there was no going back. We can help you, I shouted. The footsteps thundered, like a beast on all fours, and close.

I stumbled backward, my body acting on instinct, my muscles twitching to flee. But I couldn't. There was nowhere to run. I crashed to the floor with a gasp, the wind knocked from my lungs, the man's heavy paw pressed on my chest, his breath smelling rancid and rotten, his eyes a horrible, glowing, yellow. I struggled at him, and his claws dug into my flesh. Eric cried out beside me, bashing at the man, before he too hit the ground with a dull thud. Eric, I weased. I kicked in bit of the man. Eric, I said again. His paw moved from my chest to

my mouth, where it clasped itself almost entirely about my head. I screamed, muffled cries into it, my fist beating at him uselessly. This was it, I thought. I'd killed both of us. My chest heaved, emotions rioting within me. Tears fell from my face, adrenaline raced through my veins, and regret filled my thoughts. I should have listened to Eric. I was a fool. I was a fool. The man had only advanced once I made it clear we were there. If I hadn't, a roar sounded from outside, one deeper, more feral than even the man's. It filled the cave, its echoes ear splitting, and its tone like gravel. I fell still, my resistance fading, as I realized what the man was doing.

It's dark. The man growled. It's dark. The same warning he'd given us the first time the beast had shown up. He'd meant to warn us again. I nodded beneath his grip, and he removed his gnarled paw from my face. I sat up slowly, my eyes still useless in the pitch of the cave. Eric?

I said quietly. I'm here, Matt. I heard the man rise to his feet. Then he grabbed me by the back of my leather jacket and heaved me up with him. Eric grabbed my shoulder, steadying himself as the man easily plucked him up next. The beast is back, Eric whispered beside me. Looks that way, I said. The man grunted expectantly.

It's dark. Right, I said, getting his meaning. I flipped my phone's light on. and cast it ahead. The man had already begun walking deeper into the cave, though this time more slowly. He intended for us to follow. Eric and I exchanged a brief look of unease before nodding and shuffling after him, my heart racing, as I prayed we'd made the right decision. This feels too convenient, Eric whispered. Don't forget the last time the man showed up. We nearly died.

Yeah, but we don't have much of a choice, do we? I said, cradling my broken wrist. If it's between the beast and the man, I'm going to take the man every time. If the man was Nolan, then he might be trying to help us, and maybe that was his intention all along. Likely, he knew about Jake, too. We walked only a short while before we came to a halt in front of a rusty cage door, which separated our half of the cavern from the one ahead.

The man sniffed at the bars animatedly before heaving the heavy door open to a symphony of metallic screeching. God, I said, plugging my ears. When's the last time that hinge got greased? Might have been a while, Eric reasoned. Grandma didn't seem to care much for her hobby in her later years. if if Uncle Jake's words were anything to go by. Uncle Jake, I thought. We were both quiet for a moment, guilt swimming in my stomach,

and only stirred when the man beckoned us forward with a great gnarled paw. We made our way to him. As we neared, the light of my phone began playing across man-made objects against the stark black stone of the cave. Tables were scattered about, stacked with books and various surgical tools, while chairs sat tucked neatly beneath them. On the smooth wall ahead was a great sprawling diagram written in white. I recognized it as the same diagram from mysteries. Do you think this is it? Eric said breathlessly.

Where she made them? It seemed that way. hadn't wanted us exploring this cave, and after passing that steel gate, she clearly didn't want anything in here, human or otherwise. I picked up a beaker of fluid, gazing at it like I knew anything about chemistry. This definitely fits the mold of evil lab, I said. Where'd she get the time to do all this? Eric said. There was the snap of a match, and then a flame hissed quietly to life. turned to see Eric lighting a large candle. I'm sorry if I startled you.

I just figured we ought to save your phone's battery. No, no, it's okay. That's a good idea, I said. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, while the two of us made our way around the lab, lighting the other candles. I've been thinking, Eric said, weaving out his match as we lit the last of the wicks.

About what we might find down here. I could still hear our mother weeping in the back of my thoughts. I could still feel, no matter how far I pushed it down, the thrill I'd felt at bashing in Jake's skull. I swallowed. Yeah. Me too, I said. We split up and looked over the contents of the tables. A lot of it was books, written in a language I couldn't make heads or tales of,

bound in leather with fancy steel clasps on their front. They looked a thousand years old. Then, beneath a stack of scattered paper, I found a page with my name on it. I snatched it up, looking at Eric to make sure he had noticed. My brother stood near the far wall of the room, his head in a book, occasionally glancing at the ground and adjusting his glasses. Good. I was in the clear. This is what I read. Matthew is responding well. His mannerisms appear mostly unaffected. He is still kind, rambunctious, and curious, certainly far less aggressive than Jacob. I was also quite happy to see his physical state has remained consistent, and I sense I may have sorted out the issue

that affected Nolan. There are still certain, uncertainties I have about him. But it's possible he's the one after all. I'll continue monitoring over the next week, but Alice is growing concerned, and the boys have grown more brazen. I found Eric wandering toward the cave yesterday. I may soon have to send them home. I'll remind Jake to keep a better eye on them in the future and to stop filling their heads with tales of adventure. there'll be plenty of time to explore this mountain when everything is done. Eric, I said, the reality of the situation crashing upon me. What if we...

Find out were monsters too? Eric finished. I didn't say anything. The truth was, I didn't think there was much wee in it. Grandma had given me something, and now it was clear it was the same serum she She'd given Jake and Nolan. I looked at the man at Nolan and sighed. What had she done to us?

Why? I don't know, I said, hating myself for being too weak to admit what I was. What if I turned now and hurt Eric? My stomach twisted. You know what? Why don't you stay here? I'm going to go get some fresh air, I said. I slunk towards the rusty door.

Eric put his hand on my shoulder. I get it, Matt. I do. Jake wasn't Jake anymore. You did what she had to do in order to protect us. He shook his head. I was wrong to make you feel like you were one of them. I paused.

Unsure what sparked this change of heart. heart. Eric's expression wasn't angry or hateful anymore. Rather, it was calm and a bit regretful. He let his hand fall away. So don't feel like you need to run off, all right? I nodded. It was a nice sentiment, and I was glad that Eric trusted me again. But he was wrong to. The page had confirmed it. I was a monster, and I'd already felt myself losing. control to grandma's medicine. What if next time instead of Jake, Eric was the focus of my anger? I stuffed my hands into my pockets.

I wasn't going to let that happen. Don't worry, I lied. I'm not running off, just getting some fresh air. I've got my phones light. I'll find my way back, I said. I heaved the steel gate open to the sharp notes of squealing metal. and Nolan stepped in front of me. His massive jaws dripped saliva, his glowing yellow eyes boring into me. I squirmed beneath his gaze.

It's dark, he said, pointing to the back of the room. I blinked. Was he trying to show me something? Swallowing, I picked up a candle and followed him toward the shadowy corner. the same corner I'd seen Eric in while I'd read the page. As we neared, I realized something was on the floor beneath us. Roons. They made a large circle and looked as if they'd been carved directly into the cavern floor, hammer and chisel style.

What the hell? I muttered, recalling the runes from mysteries. What is this? They're symbols. Eric said. Pagan by the looks of him. His eyes were downcast. I think it may be a sort of summoning circle.

Summoning circle, I said. To summon what? Eric fidgeted with his hands. He started to speak. Then the words escaped him and fell silent again. Eric? I, Matt. His words came between whimpers.

Another anxiety attack. No sense badgering him right now. Nolan had led me here. Perhaps he had more information. Nolan, right? I said. What's going on? Can you tell me anything?

Help me understand? Silence. Of course he couldn't explain. His only vocabulary consisted of announcing the time of day. Still, I'd have appreciated it if he could have pointed out a book or scroll or something to help me along. Then it hit me. Eric might be too worked up to get any words out, but I knew where he'd learned about that

summoning circle. I extended my hand to my brother. Hand me the book then. I'll find out myself. Eric stepped backward, clutching the book against his cheek. I can't, Matt. You don't get it. What don't I get, Eric?

Stop messing around, man. Another roar erupted. The beast. Was that closer? Shit, I thought. The bastard probably heard the screeching of the damn gate. I'm not messing around, Eric shrieked at me. His eyes wet with tears.

There's stuff in there that you wouldn't understand. Couldn't understand. What the hell was going on, I thought. I winced, bringing a hand to my head as my mother's crying voice screamed in my mind. Please, Matthew, please. My lips felt dry again, and my ears rang. Eric, I said, stumbling to stay upright. The book.

I need to know what this circle is. I already told you. He sobbed. It's a summoning circle. Yeah, I need more details than that, Eric. What the hell is it summoning? I heard those words in my head again. Please, Matthew.

Please. You have to. I shook myself free of my mother's voice, gritting my teeth and grounding myself in the moment. Focus on the pain in my wrist. Focus on the sound. Sound of water dripping against stone. Focus on the cool breeze. Breathe.

If I give you the book, you'll do it. Eric said, backing away from me and shaking his head. You'll do it. Do what? I shouted. Sound, touch, scent, ground, ground myself. God, this was hard. It's nearly. Dark, Nolan growled.

Another roar. This one echoing through the cave, so much closer now. Sharp, jagged, and monstrous. The beast? Was it inside? If I give you this book, Eric said, pointing at me with a manic expression, glasses crooked on his nose. You'll do to me what you did to Jake.

My legs felt weak suddenly. I stumbled to a knee, taking another breath and centering myself. Memories bombarded me, while my mother's voice screamed in my head over and over. Please, Matthew. Please. Shut up, Mom. Why would I do that? I said, screwing up my face in sensory overload.

Tell me. Eric, tell me why I would do that. I... Eric said, trailing off. It's dark, Nolan repeated. This time harsher, more fiercely. It's dark. I became acutely aware of him moving, darting off toward the way we'd come.

Where was he going? Another roar, guttural, horrible. So close. Too close. Something was running through the cave. Something massive. Please, Matthew. Please.

Eric, I screamed. Tell me. I'm one of them. He sobbed quietly. I'm a monster. I shook my head. No, no. I was.

the monster. Eric couldn't be. There was no way. It didn't add up. He was too kind, too selfless. He was my little brother. Please, Matthew. My mother's voice in my head said again. My wrist was still in agony, and my head still swam with old, unbidden memories. Grandma's needle of medicine. Her calm voice telling me to recite the words. Wait, what words? Why? Focus, damn it. You're not the monster, I told Eric through gritted teeth. I am. I shoved my hand into my pocket and thrust the page to his chest. He took it while I did my grounding exercises, focusing on my breath, my sense of feeling, my sense of hearing. I needed to return to this moment.

I needed to break free of my mother's voice, of old memories scraping at the edges of my mind. We weren't safe. We needed to act. Eric tore the piece of paper in half, throwing it to the ground. What are you doing? I said, feeling myself re-center. You didn't even read it. I don't need to, he said, shaking his head.

I believe you. He believed me. Great. I was happy we were rebonding our sense of brotherly trust, but the situation seemed a little extreme to stop and smell the roses. Just know that we're in this to... The entire cavern shook. It sounded like something heavy smashed into one of the walls. The tables rattled.

Dirt fell from the jagged ceiling. in a low-paned groan made its way through the cavern. The man, Eric breathed. He went to head off the beast. Seem like it. At least now we knew where we stood with him. If we managed to survive this. It's Nolan, Eric.

It's got to be. How can you be sure? I grimaced. The last remnants of my mental war fading to ash in my mind. Because I read that damn page you tore up, I said, looking around in desperation. Now we need something to help us fight that thing. I think Nolan's going to need all the help he can get. But the lab was just that.

A lab? And a crude wanted that. It looked like a cross between a cult's conference room, with its various tables and strange pagan symbolism on every wall in book. and a research facility with its many beakers. I didn't see a single weapon, or even anything close to it. I tore across the room, flinging open cabinets, scanning shadowy corners, and upending desk drawers. Nothing. How the hell, I sat, grasping the edge of a table.

Do you live in the woods making monsters and not even keep a shotgun to defend yourself? Eric was at a loss for words. He kept looking from me to the swinging middle gate, panic lacing his features. This was fine. I knew Eric wasn't the action type. He'd done his job well enough anyway. Now it was time for me to do mine. A monstrous scream rang out from the cavern, and then Nolan exploded through the metal gate.

His massive wolf body skidded to a halt in the center of the room. coming to a stop against a sturdy table leg. He wasn't moving. The gate screeched in its death throws, swinging from a single hinge. We were out of time. Eric, I said. Get under the table now. He shook his head, grabbing a scalpel from one of the drawers.

No way. You're not facing this thing alone. You got to be kidding me, I thought. What was it with younger brother? and always needing to prove how grown up they were, how mature. I spat, really wishing I hadn't quit smoking. Cigarettes always helped me think. Footsteps rumbled in the darkness, nearer and nearer.

I stood in the center of the room framed by candlelight, and then I realized what a fool I was. The candles, I said, rushing to the nearest one. We dashed about, Distinguishing the candles in quick secession, when we'd finished, we both tucked ourselves beneath the table, waiting silently for the beast to enter. Each of its footsteps was like a small earthquake, deep and full. The creature's weight echoed throughout the cave, and then I heard the sound of groaning

metal, followed by what sounded like bolts being torn from their anchorage. The table beside us burst into splinters, followed by a deafening clang as the steel gate crashed against the cavern wall. I clapped a hand to Eric's mouth, making sure he didn't utter a word. The truth was, I didn't remember a thing about the beast, only that it had come for us the night we'd seen the man twelve years ago. I didn't know what it looked like, what its capabilities were. I just prayed it couldn't smell us.

Another set of footfalls rumbled. Slow, powerful, heavy. Sweat beaded from my forehead, and I swallowed, doing my best not to move or so much as twitch. Being so deep underground, there was no adjusting our eyes to this darkness. I couldn't see a damn thing. Only hear it. It's massive, huffing breaths. It's low growls.

I could hear it in the room now, stalking among the tables. Searching. Our only option was to wait. Maybe we could slip by while it looked for us. Make for the exit. Each footfall caused our table to rattle. And all those around us. Not far from us, a beaker crashed to the floor.

Then my entire body froze. Still so frightened. Boys?" The beast said. Its voice raspy. Unnatural. I'd have thought you'd feel nice and confident after your last performance. The table next to us where the beaker had fallen, exploded, its wood fragments raining

down atop our own with sharp thuds. I slammed my eyes shut, waiting for death. But it never came. Instead, the creature's great footsteps moved toward the other end of the lab. Still speaking. Why could it speak? But not Nolan. A question better suited for Eric, but now wasn't the time.

I have to say, Maddie, the beast said, making my heart skip a beat. I'm impressed. I never thought you had it in you. Its voice gleamed with malice. I felt Eric shift beside me, and I knew he was as confused as I was. Had the beast seen me murder Jake? It didn't matter. We weren't having a conversation.

We needed to get out of here. Now that the monster was on the other side of the room, I nudged Eric and began quietly slinking out from beneath the table. He followed my lead. When you brought the rock down on my head, I was surprised, it said. I froze. My body halfway out from beneath a table had he just said, But then you brought it down again. And again, you bashed my brains to mush. The beast chuckled.

I actually thought you might have killed me. This wasn't possible. It couldn't be Uncle Jake. The voice of the beast was deep. It was gravely. It had no. no accent and it didn't sound anything like him. Jake was dead. His damn eyeballs weren't even in their sockets by the time I'd finished. I let out an exhale, as calmly as I could, and then pulled myself from the table and rose to my feet in the pitch blackness.

Next to me, I faintly heard Eric doing the same. Another snap of wood rang out, followed by the sound of splinters falling to the cavern floor. He was destroying every table in the room. And you, Eric, Jake said, causing Eric to pause next to me. I'm surprised. You let Matt lose control like that. I'd have thought after your own experiences and such that you'd be much quicker to step in. I tugged at Eric's arm.

indicating that we needed to move. We needed to get the hell out of here. Storm or not. I trusted my chances in the rain a hell of a lot better than this. Eric resisted at first, his damn curiosity getting the better of him. But after a moment he relented. We both snuck along the opposite wall of the beast toward the exit. I was hoping I wouldn't have to kill you until after you turned. continued, destroying another table with a grunt. But the truth is, you're needed for summoning. Always have been. Keep moving, damn it, I thought.

I gently pushed Eric along. But I think I can make do with a stray hiker. Maybe an old friend from town. Hell? Maybe your dear father. He's likely to put him. He's likely to put up a fight, but turning him would be so satisfying. Lord knows the jackass deserves it.

A little further, I thought. I could fuel the wall curving towards the exit passage, where the detached gate would be waiting for us. Nearly there. Something smashed against the wall beside us. A chair? Footsteps thundered. Then silence.

I fell on my ass, ears ringing as something jumped in front of us, as he jumped in front of us. Jake let out a howling shriek of a laugh. Oh, boys, boys, boys, you actually thought I didn't know exactly where you were this whole time. His voice turned guttural, menacing. How do you think I found my way through the damn cave? A hand, five times larger than Nolan's, picked me up, and I felt matted in rough fur scratching at my skin. Maddie, I always figured you were a lost cause, but after that last display, murdering your own uncle, I'm surprised you're not welcoming this opportunity to become greater. I kicked and punched at the beast hand, so large it nearly fit around my torso.

Go to hell, I shouted, as if I'd ever want to turn into a monster. Another ear-splitting, horrible laugh. Was this really my uncle? Strangely, Eric, Jake said, and I became aware of the fact that he probably had him in his opposite grip. I didn't think it'd take any convincing for you at all. Or are you still pretending you didn't murder your sister? No. No way, I thought.

Don't listen to him, Eric. I said, my body flailing uselessly against Jake's strength. He's trying to convince you to turn into whatever the hell he is. Our mom died. in a riverboat accident. I knew that. We both did. Shut it, Jake said, a spit flicking across my face and his voice so loud that my head rolled back in a daze. His giant hand squeezed, and I felt my breath trapped in my chest. Don't hurt him, Eric said.

He is life, Jake said, in that horrible, uneven. in gravelly voice. Depends on what you choose. Eric, I weezed, and Jake squeezed tighter yet, extinguishing my next words. I sucked at the air, but my chest was too constricted. I was suffocating. I can't choose that, Eric said. I never want to feel it again.

We must be voluntary. Jerry, Jake said. You must say the words. Please, Eric said. I sputtered, rasping as my adrenaline-soaked body ran through the last of the oxygen in my blood. My vision blurred, limbs twitching in a primordial panic of death. Fine, Eric said, his voice more desperate than I'd ever heard. Just stop it.

Just leave him be. Jake's grip fell away, and I dropped to the hard floor in agony, heaving for air. Good. Jake said, disregarding me. Now let's go get you some medicine, Eric. It'll help the process along. Jake's footsteps thundered away from May. The cave still cloaked in absolute darkness.

I choked and weased on the ground. reorienting myself in the moment. Eric, I said, though my voice was hardly there. Eric! I stumbled forward, following the mighty footfalls, following my terrified brother. Don't touch my brother, I said. Now here's what you're going to do, Jake said. You're going to put this needle in your arm, and then you're going to speak his name.

You're gonna welcome him home. What? Eric stuttered. I heard him struggle, but I knew Jake wouldn't let him go. His name, Jake growled. Surely you remember that by now? Or are your memories still as gone as Maddie's? Chairs scraped on stone, followed by what sounded like Eric being seated in.

in one. Speak his name when I inject you. Say it. Prydaeom. Prydae-on? Eric, I said, slipping on the slick stone. I crashed to the floor and pain shot through my kneecap. No time. Ignore it. I pushed myself back to my feet, head still spinning. Eric. You're next, nephew, Jake said. Wait, your turn. I inched closer to them, my breath and senses returning to me. Who the hell was pride, A-home?

Why was it so important that Jake turn Eric and I? Don't you dare take that needle, I said. Don't? Enough from you. Jake's weight shifted. making the entire cavern rumble, and I felt him moving toward me. And then a shot rang out, and another. Gunshots.

Light filled the cavern for two terrifying moments, as I watched the beast mangled face just inches from my own, drop wordlessly to the ground. I stepped backwards. I wasn't sure I'd get here in time, said a voice. Did I know that voice? A beam of light erupted from the entrance to the lab, illuminating the shattered tables, my horrified brother, and the beast.

Jake's face had stayed as mangled as I'd made it, with his bones jutting out at grotesque angles. His eye socket sat empty, just two gaping, flesh-tinged voids, while his long fangs were shattered, sharp and jagged things. I almost vomited. He looked like some kind of monstrous approximation of a Sasquatch. Who's there? Eric said nervously. What's the matter with you?

Can't you recognize my damn voice? The light swung around, retreating from the room and framing the figure in the entrance. I blinked. Dad? Long time, Matt, dad said, holstering his shotgun on his leg. He stepped into the room, looking like something out of a time machine. He looked every bit like the asshole I remembered him as, right down to his neat cropped hair, thick leather jacket, five o'clock shadow.

And wait, was that night vision goggles on his head? Eric, you're right over there, he said, making his way over to him. Eric nodded, still pulling himself out of his panic attack. He gazed at Dad in disbelief, and I couldn't blame him. Eric hadn't seen him in two years, and I hadn't seen the guy in twice that. Didn't prick yourself on that needle, did you? Dad said, giving Eric a once-over. He took the syringe from Eric's hands, held it up to the light to make sure it was still full,

then pocketed it in his jacket. Good. What are you doing here? I said quietly. He glanced back at me. Well, I was invited, wasn't I? I think he means, Eric began. Dad cut him off.

I know what he means. Raise your arms. All right, good, nothing broken there. Eric shook his head. The poor kid was an hour younger than me, but our father treated him like he was half my age. All right. How are your legs? Dad. Dad, Dad, I'm fine, Eric said, standing up. He looked shaken beyond belief, his body still

trembling with anxiety. I think Matt wants to know why you're here, and so do I. There was no escaping the question now. Dad sighed, a thick mitt of a hand, pulling his night vision goggles from the top of his head. He dropped them on the table with a clatter, and pulled out a chair with a screech, sitting down in it, and looking up at the dark stalactites on the cave ceiling. I got your text, Eric, he said after several moments of silence, I sent you one back, but you never got it, clearly. Yeah, no shit, I said.

When did you send it out of curiosity? Because we started our drive at nine in the morning. Dad gave me a scathing look. his brown eyes colder than any blue. I sent it in the afternoon when I woke up. Ah, there it is. You were drinking, huh? I said.

Oh, give me a break, Matt. Don't lecture me on drinking. Eric shot me a shrug, and I got the picture. I really wasn't a bastion of moral superiority when he came to booze. Even still, I had more questions. So what? You came as soon as you saw the text? Dad put his head in his hands, as if speaking to me was the most painful thing he'd experienced all year. No shit, he said, patting his shotgun on his thigh.

Listen, I showed up, didn't I? I saved your asses. About that, I said, folding my arms and walking around Jake's motionless corpse. It was grotesque, with blood-streaked fur, massive feet and hands, and a set of jaws that made a tiger look like a bobcat. Looking at him, it was as if a bear had been mixed with a chimpanzee, with a bit of asshole thrown in. How did you find us? I said, how did I? Dad leaned back in the chair, its legs creaking as he drummed his fingers on the table. He ran a hand over his screen.

ruffy face. Well, let's just say I knew a bit about your dear grandmother's eclectic interest. And, yeah. He trailed off, a trait he and Eric shared. So you knew about this place, Eric said, doing his best to look dad in the eye. And you never told us? I stomped over, not giving Dad a chance to answer. I needed to say my piece. Yeah, you just walked out and left us with a bunch of lunatics. Then you vanished. Poof. Gone. Who cares, though, right? Not like we would have appreciated so little as a warning. Oh, you wanted a warning, did you, Matthew? Dad started. I did everything I could warn you. Both of you. I told you to come with me. I begged you too. But no, you wanted to stay with your dear old mother. You wanted to stay

Um, and honestly, Matthew, and this is on you. After all the tantrums you threw, the bullshit you tossed my way, I wasn't willing to fight it. Not anymore. You even poisoned Eric against me. I rounded on him, towering above his chair. It took every bit of willpower I had not to sock him in the jaw right then and there. Fifteen years, and he still couldn't take responsibility.

He patted down his jacket, irritated, before reaching inside and pulling out a pack of smokes. "'Who's prideom?' Eric said quietly. "'I recognized that tone. It was one I'd heard a thousand times before as a kid. He was trying to change the subject before Dad and I got too heated. "'Well, Prideom,' Dad said, opening his pack and sliding a cigarette out. Is the Lord beyond the veil? He made a mystical, wavy gesture with his hand, then spat a mouthful of chew on the ground.

Your grandmother, Gail, not Beth, was obsessed with him. Some kind of death-called shit. He planted the cigarette in his lips and lit it, then held the pack toward me. No thanks, I quit. Ha, dad waved out his match. taking a long drag on the dart before exhaling in a plume of smoke. You are a dipshit, Matt, but that was a good call. He pulled another long drag.

Smokin's expensive. Yeah, yeah, not as expensive as night vision goggles, I said, eyeing the dark green lenses on the table. Where'd you come across those anyway? He didn't so much as glance at them. A store? That hell you think I found him. Oh, so now you're going to start another fight, huh? I said.

I'm not starting shit, he said, taking another drag. I got him the same time I got the shotgun, when I realized I might need to use it someday. Thanks to your mother's bullshit. He nodded towards Jake's corpse. That's your uncle, I'm guessing. I nodded. Yeah.

So you knew. about that too, huh? I had a feeling, he said. Oh my God, Eric said, looking around in a sudden panic. Nolan? Shit, in the chaos of everything, I'd forgotten about him. Dad, give me your flashlight, I said, holding out my hand expectantly. He looked me up and down, as though incredulous that I'd ever ask so lofty a favor as borrowing his light. You boys just say the name, Nolan. Yeah, Eric replied. He helped us, and I think he might be hurt.

Dad glanced around, suspicious. He's supposed to be dead. The light, asshole, I said, reaching for it. He pulled it away. Hold on now, Matthew. Dad rose from his chair. clearing his throat. You mean to say your late uncle is here with us?

I looked at Eric, pleading for him to do something. When it came to our dad, my opinion didn't mean a damn thing. Eric was the golden child. Dad, Eric said, stepping forward, hand me the light and I'll show him to you. A moment passed. All right, then. Show me the ghost. Eric took the light and swung it around.

toward the center of the room where we'd seen Nolan crash against the table leg. Sure enough, his body was still there. Unmoving. I ran to him, Eric following, the light bobbing up and down. Our dad took his sweet time, still dragging on a cigarette. I fell next to Nolan's body, racking my mind to recall my first aid course from years ago. I leaned toward his jaws, his stench overpowering, and listened for breathing. Nothing. Not good. So, Dad said, coming up behind us and giving Nolan a nudge with his boot,

this is your brother your mother mentioned, huh? According to her, he died in a fission incident. Yeah, well, that's clearly not the case, I said, frustrated. I opened Nolan's eyelids, and his yellow eyes had, lost their glow. They gazed lifelessly at the ceiling. Shit. I rolled him over to his back with all the strength I had and then began attempting chest compressions with my one good hand. Somebody want to give me a hand? Well, he's dead, Dad replied. He flicked his cigarette to the ground.

You're not a doctor, asshole, I said. I hated I was getting this worked up. I pushed on his massive chest, coarse with black fur. I pressed and I pressed, doing everything I could, but my strength wasn't enough to move his cavity a centimeter. Eric, give me a hand, I said. Eric knelt down, and Dad grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him off. It's over, he said. Your uncle's dead. Let him rest in peace. I fell on top of Nolan's chest, the cuts on my face stinging as the tears slipped into them. He was the only one that tried to help us, I said, sobbing. The only one who tried warning us.

Get up, Maddie. It ain't over yet, Dad said coldly. You, you don't get to speak, I said. You don't get to tell me when it's over. Everything was pouring out of me now. All the hatred, the sadness, the regret, everything, like a tidal wave of emotion. You would have let them take us. He, he at least tried to help, and he died for it.

Pull yourself together, Dad growled. If it wasn't for me, the two of you would be lying there next to him. I lunged at him, hating that he couldn't for one. have a damn heart. He struggled at me, but I got a foot behind his leg and tripped him to the floor. We crashed against the cold stone and my broken wrist screamed in pain, but I ignored it. I had one good wrist, and that was far more than enough. I raised it up. Eric grabbed it, holding it back and keeping me from bashing in my dad's face. Enough, Matt, Eric said. Yeah, Matt, my dad said, swinging at me from below and catching me in the jaw.

I rolled off him, dazed, and he clamored on top of me, delivering another short punch to my face. That's enough, he said. Eric dropped the light and tackled him, the two of them rolling off of me. I sat up, shaking the stars from my vision, and I heard something move. not Eric, not Dad. I glanced at Nolan, who was still motionless. Shit, stop it, I said. What? Dad said.

Finally realize you've been thrown a damn tantrum this whole time? No, I spat. I thought I heard something. I reached for the light Eric had abandoned, sweeping it around the room. Everything looked as I remembered it, shattered and broken. I brought the light to the entrance, making sure no new cryptids were sneaking their way inside. Nothing. All clear.

And then a massive form crashed in front of us, grabbing me by the length of my hair. I cried out as it lifted me up, my nostrils filled with a scent of blood. And it shook me. My neck feeling close to snap. No, it said, furiously tossing me aside. I crashed through a table with a groan, my body too weak to move. I heard thundering footsteps, a shotgun blast, more footsteps, another blast, and then screaming. So much screaming.

My vision dulled, my mind fading. No, I thought. Eric, I blinked, seeing only darkness. Every movement felt like running a marathon, but I needed to move. I had to. Eric, I coughed. My neck craned upward, following the beam of light toward an empty entryway. In the distance, I heard shouting, crying, hollering. I heard breathing. Heavy, brutal, breathing. I heard Jake speak, Oh, by the time this is over and done with, I'm going to be a husk thanks to all of you.

But lucky for me, I'm built sturdier than a human. I tried to rise to my feet, only to stumble and fall painfully on my face. I groaned, rolling onto my back, while Jake continued, Like I said, Eric, I'm a prodig. act of progress. Now let's make you one too.

Darkness filled my vision, and I drowned it. Lost in black shadow, my mind and thoughts drifted through a void with only pieces of voices, of moments breaking through. I'm so sorry, Eric. I'm so sorry. Regret and guilt swirled inside me. Good. That's the need. needle done? No, no. Dad had the needle. I saw him take it.

Dad, I said. Now say the name, Jake said. Welcome him into you. Welcome him beyond the veil. I felt myself falling away, losing consciousness. Eric was crying, sobbing, pride, ehome. No. I opened my eyes, hating myself.

I'd nearly done it, nearly lost control again. I'd tried doing to Dad what I'd done to Jake, beating him until there was nothing left. I sat up in pain shot through my neck. Jake, he was still alive. How, though? His face had been beaten to mush, and he'd been shot with five or six slugs. I groaned rising to my feet. Darkness surrounded me, with a single beam of light piercing through and illuminating drifting dust. The cave, right? We were in a cave. Focus, Matt. I stumbled to dad's flashlight and picked it up. The light was fainter now.

thinner. The batteries must be nearly dead. How long had I been out? I brought a hand to my neck and massaged it, feeling like I'd spent the night doing my best impersonation of an owl. Eric, I called. My throat dry. God, I needed a drink. Dad? My light beam swept across the cavern, revealing only scattered books and splintered wooden tables. The place, had been demolished, only a handful of desks and tables still remained in one piece, and even they had their drawers pulled out and tossed. That's right, I remembered. I'd done that trying to find a weapon to fight Jake, and all Eric managed to find was a scalpel.

That was the best we had. Then Dad charged in and saved our asses. Until I screwed it up. I staggered forward, still feeling. like I'd been hit by a Sasquatch-shaped truck. The hell was wrong with me? Jumping dad like that. I tried to shake the self-loathing, but this time it was all consuming.

That really screwed us over. Jake had probably used our fighting as covered to make his move. And now Eric was paying the price. He'd been injected with Jake's medicine and then forced to say the name to welcome the Lord beyond the veil, whatever the hell that meant. It didn't mean anything good. I knew that much.

I swept the light to the summoning circle, and my stomach dropped. Its ruins glowed a dull red, casting a crimson tinge to the black stone they'd been carved in. Eric, I said again. Dad. No. God, no. I fell back into a wooden chair, putting my head into my hands. Where were they?

Please, Matthew. My mom's voice started up in my head again. Not now, Mom. Please. I screamed. As loud and as hard as I could. My throat felt like sandpaper, but I didn't care. I screamed and I screamed until I was out of breath,

until the voices in my head shut up and then I cried a while. Even if I could find them, how the hell was I supposed to help them? I picked up the scalpel Eric left on the table and stared at it, hated it. How was I supposed to save them with this? Jake took shotgun blast and shrug them off and all I had was a scalpel, a busted wrist, and something inside of me, trying to get out. It's dark.

I looked up, not sure I'd heard properly. Was that? I brought the light around, scrambling from my chair, my sneakers slipping on the slick cavern floor. Nolan! I shouted, falling to my knees beside him. He was sitting upright, breathing heavy, and no longer the bipedo werewolf he'd earlier resembled.

He was human again, or at least as close as he could get with a wolf mask fused to his neck. Are you? He raised a hand, then pointed to the scalpel still in my hands. Dark. Dark? I replied, with more frustration than I'd meant. I felt so much angrier here on the mountain like I was desperate for violence. I swallowed the rage.

Breathe. Just breathe, I thought. The scalpel, right? I said. He nodded slowly, as if the act was painful. What do you want with it? I said, completely at a loss. I wished he would just say some real words for once. Dark. He brought a finger along his neck, tracing the stitching of the mask. You want me to cut it off of you? The mask? Another slow, pained nod. That made more sense than anything I'd heard all night. I shifted closer and then paused. My heart thrummed in my chest, and I could feel the rage boiling inside me, thrashing to get out. I thrust the scalpel toward him. I don't trust myself

right now. You do it. I'll help you if you need it." He shook his head. Shit. He didn't understand. There was something inside of me, and whenever I saw blood, it clodd closer and closer to the surface. It happened with Jake. It nearly happened with my own father. I couldn't risk losing control on Nolan, not when he was all I had left. I had. I had I grabbed his hand and put the scalpel in it. He recoiled with an agonized scream, his body writhing. The scalpedal clattered to the floor. I leaned closer, panicked.

What had I done? He cradled his hand and I saw scorch marks on his palm. The red-seared flesh made an outline of the scalpel and steam hissed from it in snaking tendrils. You can't touch the scalpel, I breath. The puzzle pieces forming in my mind. But you could touch the iron gate. A decade of monster lore swam in my head. Is the scalpel silver?

It's dark. All right, hold still, I said. Doing my best to steady his head with my broken wrist. I used my good hand to make an incision along the mask's stick. His body jerked and seized as the blade sliced through the threads and in some places. His flesh, nearly there, I said. A thin trail of blood wound its way from his neck down to his chest, and I did my best to ignore it. Thankfully, the rancid smell of his wolf mask made a good mental anchor and helped me stay in the moment.

avoid the pull of whatever was inside of me. Please, Matthew, the voice in my head again. There, I said, cutting the last pieces of the mask free, I pocketed the scalpel. His skin was seared around the incision points, and his whole body trembled in pain. Sorry, I'm sorry, that that should do it, though. He raised his hands to the mask and lifted its side. slowly. The glow from its eyes faded, and the mask itself seemed to droop. The flesh sloughing from the skull and rotting away. I helped raise it off entirely, and we dropped it to the floor.

The man beneath looked a lot like Jake. He had a wide jaw, a mess of hair, and a short beard. His plaid shirt had been torn away during his previous transformation, but he still had those same jeans that Jake wore, faded from hours outdoors. It occurred to me that Jake probably gave him his clothes. Thank you, he said quietly. You can talk now? I asked. My heart raised. I had so many questions.

He nodded, swallowing. I can. He ran in. hand along his neck where the mask had been cut free. Only silver could undo those bonds. I'd tried cutting it before, but they healed too quickly. Thank you, Matthew. Yeah, I said. Of course. I looked down, guilt bubbling in my chest. Thank you for everything. But he got Eric, my dad, too. Yes, I thought that he might. He's my much stronger than I am.

Do you know where he's taken him? I asked. A small ember of hope began burning inside of me. Nolan must know. He'd been here all along. Because we need to get over there now, he summoned. Pride, ehome. Nolan finished, rising on shaky legs.

Yes, I'm well aware of everything. The mask prevented me from speaking, not listening. He ran a hand over his ribs, breathing deeply and wincing. I'm afraid without the mask, I won't be much help to you in a fight. But that's not what you need right now. You need information. And I can help with that. Hand me your light.

I did. And he brought it to rest on a broken cabinet in the back corner. That'll be it. He handed the light back to me and limped toward it. I followed. Pride a-home is powerful, he said. Perhaps too powerful to stop, but we may be able to save Eric. And my dad?

Nolan didn't answer. Reaching the cabinet, he arrested his body against it for a moment, taking several deep breaths. His face looked a great deal more worn than Jake's, with deep lines framing his eyes and a sallowness to his cheekbones. He looked like he was dying. I'll just be a moment, he said. Just catching my breath. My brother, he did quite a number on me.

He's insane, I said quietly. A question aided me, and I decided I had to ask. It might be the only opportunity to learn the truth. Is this? Is it really grandma's doing? Nolan smiled. Hmm, and good question. He pulled the book from the shelf and began flipping through its pages.

Early in life, my mother was a writer. She loved the paranormal, cryptids, ghouls, and the like. And I, well, I was her biggest fan. He grunted, tossing the book and plucking another. He licked the tip of his thumb and cycled a few pages. I loved reading her stories. They enthralled me. Ah, ah, excellent.

This should be the proper text. He let his body slide down the cabinet, his finger running across a page. I held the light above him. I spent ten years in university studying medicine. And when I returned, she was a different woman. Strange. Like something had gotten to her. Gotten to her? I repeated. I sat down next to him. This was a side of my grandmother I never knew.

A side of my family I never knew. Mom rarely spoke about anything that happened before Eric and I were born. She'd become obsessed with Pride Ae-Ome. At the time, I thought it was a bit of artistic madness, you know? Methodactant, perhaps. Getting into character for another one of her stories. He laughed, each chuckle accentuated by a wince of pain. When she asked for my help with the science behind creating cryptids, well, I thought she was crazy, but she showed me a library of books she'd collected. He paused, taking a raspy breath. They described incredible things, things that shouldn't be possible.

I stared into the dark of the cave. My voice barely a whisper. You helped her make you. Make Jake into what he is. My curiosity overcame my ethics, I confess. I agreed to another wince of pain. I agreed to attempt an experiment. But on the grounds that it had to be done to me.

me and me alone. He hung his head. It wasn't perfect, partly because I disregarded several aspects of the books that sounded too hokey for me. Too ridiculous. I made myself into a werewolf, but an imperfect one, one who could never fully stop being a beast. He looked at me. His sunken eyes tired and remorseful.

When I saw you boys up there, I wanted to kill you, I felt compelled to. I swallowed. But I didn't, he continued. I'm not sure what changed, but after seeing you two, it was like a piece of me returned. A small sliver of humanity, perhaps. I decided to try and warn you later that day by the river. Of the dark. Of my mother's intentions.

The book, I said. Mysteries of the cryptids. Yes, he said, flicking another page. I'd stuffed some of her research notes into an old novel she'd written. My hope was that if she saw you with it, she wouldn't grow suspicious. He tapped at the center of the page. Ah, here it is. The light of pride, ehome.

Give me a moment, please. I need to read this carefully. I did, using the time to reflect. Ten minutes ago I'd nearly given up, but then Nolan had given me hope. He'd saved me all over again. Whatever was in that book, he seemed to think it had a real shot at helping fix this disaster. I believed him. There was hope for Eric.

Hope for my dad. We could do this. Put things back to normal and get off this damn mountain and turn this whole experience into exactly what it deserved to be. A repressed memory. I just needed to know what to do. It's as I suspected. Nolan said a short time later.

The summoning requires an amount of offerings. or cryptids, to put it simply. Four of them and a host. That would be your brother. Or you? He shot me a weary smile. I don't understand. Is that good or bad?

Well, Nolan said, leaning back and resting the book on his lap. Without the mask, I've lost my ability to heal from my wounds. All this to say. that I'm dying, and I should thank you that I'm dying as a man. I suspect that when I leave, he clutched his side. You okay? I said, realizing what a stupid question it was. Jake had thrown him half the length of a football stadium.

His insides were probably damn near mush. I'm still dying, he said with a wry grin. But all right. But otherwise, as I said, when I leave, his offering will be one short and Jake's summoning will be unsuccessful. Wait, I said standing up, looking at the ruins and the ground. I thought they'd already summoned him. Yes, they have. He's on his way. But crossing worlds is not so easy a task, at least according to these old tombs. Holmes. He patted the book on his lap. I suspect that Jake's taken them to meet the Lord beyond when he arrives. Isn't that here? I said, staring at the summoning circle. Isn't he

arriving in that circle? The cabinet creaked as Nolan leaned back against it. His head rested on the cupboard door, and he closed his eyes. Think of that circle. As a telephone. As a telephone. It's a way of communicating that their terms have been met. Everything I've read about Pride A-Om would indicate him to be a prideful being, one who would loathe to enter this world through a dirty cave. He took a difficult breath. When I die, Jake's terms will be broken. Pride A-Ome won't grant him an audience.

Great. No pradium, but that still left one massive problem. Nolan, I said desperately. How do I stop Jake? How do I help our family? Silver. Nolan grimaced. Haven't you been paying attention? He gave me a grim smile. The trouble, of course, is getting the silver into my brother's heart. That's putting it lightly, I muttered. I doubted the scalpel was long enough to even reach his heart. Once my brother realizes, he said slowly.

His words spaced by flinches of pain. That the summoning is being prevented by something. He's likely to realize I've passed on. I don't know what happens then. He is unpredictable at the best of times. He coughed more blood, and it speckled the book in his lap. What do I do? I said.

There wasn't much time left, and there was so much I still didn't know. I can't kill Jake with a scalpel, I said. How do I stop this? His head rolled to the side, looking towards something in the dark of the room. Operating table beneath it. My father's dagger. Eric and I hadn't known much about our late grandfather, only that he'd been an archaeologist in life. I stood casting the light in the direction Nolan looked.

Sure enough, there was an operating table there, though it felt generous to call it such. It was really more of a slab of wood with some leather straps dangling off of it. Is the dagger silver? Nolan nodded. Not much, but it'll have to do. Now go. Get a head start on me. There was one last thing I had to know first.

Something important. When I was younger, I said, Grandma gave me some of that serum. Why haven't I changed yet? If she, if she only gave it to you once, it wouldn't be enough. He took a moment to catch his breath. It takes several doses to induce the transformation.

Then I'm not accrupted? He shook his head. I sighed, relieved. That was one terror I could put to rest, at least for now. Thank you, I said quietly. The truth was, I had so much to say and no. time to say it. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for thinking he was a monster, that I was sorry for attacking him with a fire-iron, that he'd done more for me than he could ever

know. But I didn't have time. You're a good man, I said, rising to my feet. Please know that. I hoped it was enough. It was a terrible feeling leaving my uncle to die here, in the cold darkness, where his nightmare had been born. But there wasn't any time. When this was finished, I'd come back and pull him out, give him a proper burial. But right now, there were still lives I could save. Lives I needed to save.

I made for the exit. Matthew. Nolan weased. I paused, turning my ear toward him. Don't listen. to the voices. The forest was quiet tonight. No sound of deer, no sound of birds, and not so much as the chirp of crickets.

I sprinted through the woods, avoiding the main trails and sticking to the brush. Bramble and nettle clawed at my jacket. Branches hung low and caught me in the face. And the dirt wet from the storm shifted with my every step. It didn't matter, though. I knew where I needed to be. The cabin was where this all began. It was where Jake had ambushed us earlier, and perhaps it was where he intended for all of this to end, too. Except this time, I was the one running

the ambush. Grandpa's dagger swung at my waist, hanging off my belt and smacking my thigh with every stride. While it was a good deal longer than the scalpel, it certainly wasn't ideal for fighting a twelve-foot Sasquatch. Still, it was all I had to do so much. had. Truthfully, I doubted a silver broadsword would have made me feel any more confident. I was terrified either way. On the glass half full side of things. It stopped raining. The temperature felt a good deal warmer, too, although I suspected that had something to do with me sprinting in a leather jacket. Above, though, the storm cloud still loomed, heavy and gray, and they'd shifted enough to mask the moon entirely. The forest was shrouded in near total darkness.

Thankfully, Dad had saved my ass again. I brought a hand to my face and adjusted his night vision goggles, seeing a landscape of greens and blacks. Normally, I'd be concerned about the lenses drawing attention, but I knew Jake couldn't see, not after I'd gouged his eyes out. He did, however, seemed to be able to smell us. I reared back my head and spat out a mouthful of mud. I'd rolled around in a puddle of it outside the cave, drenching myself head to toe and muck and grime, and I'd managed to get it absolutely everywhere. Disgusting? Yeah, but maybe enough to mask my scent, at least until I got close enough to stab Jake, or something. Stuff to think about when I got there. Eric was the planner, not me.

I operated more on instinct, and I hope those instincts would serve me better than they had in the cave. All of us were relying on it. It didn't take long to reach the cabin. I slunk along for the last leg of the journey, careful not to make any sounds, since I figured Jake's ears were still in working order. Through the trees, I saw a weak light spilling from one of the windows, though no sign of any movement. I needed to get closer. I glanced about making sure the area was clear. To my left, there was only Grandma's old spinach patch, and beyond that the walking trail

to the river. Good. To my right, my beat-up car, and the road that led down to the mountain. I focused my goggles down the roadway. Was that a fender? No. That was an entire truck. This front end jutted out of the bushes a short way down the road.

No doubt about it. That was Jake's. I wanted to fist pump the air, but I composed myself. Maybe we didn't need to fight Jake after all. If the three of us could get to his truck, we could almost definitely outrun him. Then we'd just come back in the daylight and deal with things once his transformation had worn off. Perfect, I whispered.

First though. I needed to get Eric and Dad. The heart part. I dashed across the clearing and pressed myself against the cabin's wall, moving along it to the kitchen window. The light that spilled from it flickered as if cast by a candle. I pulled the goggles off my head and peered inside. Nothing. Shit.

The place looked exactly as I remembered it, right down to the chair I'd busted the window with. All right, I thought. No need to panic. Somewhere else, then. Maybe Grandma's bedroom or the living area. I crouched back down, slipping along to the front of the cabin. Its entrance had been torn apart by Jake's previous visit, its front door missing, and its entire vestibule sagging. Even the steps that led up to the front porch were cracked and broken, probably not built to withstand the weight of a wear, Sasquatch. I froze. There was a sound coming from the cabin.

It sounded like moaning, long, anguished groans. I slipped past the front door, following the sounds along the side of the cabin. There, a few feet away, was the dark window to the living area. That's where the sounds were coming from. I flicked on the night vision goggles, orienting myself beneath a window. I wanted to do this as carefully as I could. I slowly rose my head, peering inside. The fireplace was empty, just as I remembered, and I could see bits of griff's cracked skull

where I dropped it earlier. The wicker chairs were there, too, along with the boxes of Grandma's things, and... And there, near the far wall, Dad sat in a chair. A rope zigzagged across his chest, lashing him to a seat. I scanned the rest of the room. No sign of Eric? No sign of Jake, either. I gave the window a gentle push, and it slid. Good, unlocked. Made sense. What did Grandma have to fear out here? She was the one making the monsters. I opened the window quietly, so quietly that Dad hadn't noticed.

His head lulled in the chair, his eyes distant and spacey. The guy looked exhausted. I took another look around, double-checking I was in the clear before raising myself up onto the window cell. Once I was on it, I slowly lowered myself to the hardwood floor, again scanning the room. Nothing. Just dad and I. So far so good. My footstep creaked on a floorboard, and I froze.

Shit. My heart raised. Was Jake here somewhere? Had he heard that? My hand rested on the hilt of the silver dagger instinctually. Please, Matthew, the voice in my head. Please. Nothing.

Either nobody heard the sound, or nobody was here. I made my way to Dad, lifting the goggles off my eyes. Dad, I whispered, untying the ropes holding into the chair. Where's Eric? No answer. Just groans. He rolled his head down, eyes milky white. Dad!

I gave him a few gentle smacks on the face. He looked drunk. Wasted. Seriously, we need to leave now. Another long, low groan. Dad, you okay? I let the rope drop from my hands, taking a step back. I recognized those eyes.

I had seen them before. I took another step and something snapped beneath my foot. I looked down. A syringe. Three of them. Matthew, Dad said. The river. I stared at my father in disbelief.

It felt wrong seeing him like this. Glassy-eyed, groaning, and hardly able to keep him. himself upright. He'd always been such a force in my life, or at least an immovable object. Nothing seemed to sway him. He was bulletproof. Now, though, freed of his ropes. He groaned and his body lurched forward. I caught him as he fell, and something slipped out of his open jacket. The syringe. I'd thought Jake used it to inject Eric, but this one was full. No. Of course Dad wouldn't have given it to him. He'd never jeopardize Eric's life.

The lab had probably been full of doses like this one, and Jake had taken his pick while I was unconscious. I helped Dad onto the floor, laying him on his side so he couldn't fall again, or choke on his own vomit if it came to it. Then I looked back to the needle. My heart thundered as I reached for it. It takes several doses. To induce the transformation.

Nolan's words echoed in my head as I gripped the syringe. An emerald green fluid swam inside of it, the tip of its needle covered with a thin plastic cap. I swallowed. Looking back to my dad. He lay on the floor, a trail of spittle falling from his open mouth onto the hardwood. Every few moments he would twitch, sometimes his legs, sometimes his legs. Sometimes his arms, sometimes his neck.

Is this what that serum did to him? I slipped it inside my jacket. Jake knows, I said quietly. I wasn't sure if I was talking to myself or him. That's why he did this to you. He knows Nolan's dead. So he's turning you into one of them. I became aware of the weight of the dagger on my belt,

the feeling of its cool, silver against my thigh. He needs you to summon Prideaum. I couldn't let that happen, I thought. Dad's eyes rolled in his head, but I knew he was looking at me, or trying to. His voice was nearly gone now, barely there beneath the moans of pain. He was becoming one of them. A monster.

Matthew, he said. Please. I raced through the woods, hardly aware of the bushes and bramble scratching at my face. I knew where I needed to go now beyond any shadow of doubt. The river was where we'd met Nolan. It was where he'd given us the book. It was where our nightmare began. And it was where it would end.

I leapt over a fallen tree, landing in a puddle of mud with a cold splash. I shivered as it sprayed up. over me. But the sensation was gone as soon as it had come. I didn't have time to be cold, to be distracted. I needed to get to Eric. At my pace, and with the help of the night vision goggles, it didn't take me long to reach the river. When I did, I positioned myself behind a large, thick, berry bush at my proximity. It was enough for me to see through the bramble, but not enough to be seen at a distance. I twisted the focus on the goggles, zeroing them in on the shore.

Eric stood just short of the water, his back to me, and his hands at his sides. He was as still as a tree, and silent, gazing out over the dark river. I parted the brush enough to get a clearer view of the shoreline. No sign of Jake. Damn. Without seeing him first, I couldn't prepare for him. And if I couldn't prepare for him, then I didn't have a chance. I chewed my lip nervously.

Maybe Jake wasn't here. Maybe he'd gone off to do something for his bullshit ritual and left Eric alone. Maybe I could approach Eric now, and the two of us could get in Jake's truck and tear out of here. No. That'd be too easy. Too obvious. Besides, Jake knew I was still alive. If he'd wanted me dead, he would have made sure of it.

Was he waiting for me then? Shit. I was always horrible when it came to parsing through this planning shit. I stared at my brother for several long moments, wondering what he'd do if the roles were reversed. Then a thought struck me. Why wasn't he running? trying to make a break for it. Eric was all alone out there.

Unless he wasn't. A twig snapped in the distance, somewhere along the riverbank, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I swallowed, holding under the dagger with a vice grip. Another snap of a branch, followed by the shuffling sound of parting brush. Jake lumbered from the other end of the tree line.

He carried a black bag, tucked neatly under one of his massive brown arms. God, he looked rough. His eye sockets were two red gaping holes, while his body was covered in fur, matted by layers of crimson. My heart raised. I had them both in my sight. Now I just needed an opening. An opportunity to plunge the dagger into Jake's heart. Easier said than done.

Ah, can you feel him, Eric? Jake said. His voice more raspy than before. The shotgun blast may not have killed him, but they seemed to have slowed him down. He sounded pained, and his movements look sluggish. He stopped short of Eric and dropped the garbage bag on the stone shore with a dull thump. He's on the way. Nearly here.

He leaned down and under him. tied the top of the bag with a sigh. When this is over with, you'll thank me. It's a real honor, I'm telling you. Eric didn't say anything, but slumped his head forward. His silhouette, stark in the black of the night, looked like a portrait of defeat. He'd given up. Maybe he had the right idea. I was too stubborn, though. By about ten miles. reached inside the garbage bag and pulled something out, something large. I narrowed my eyes at it and then choked back a wretch. It was a corpse, one mostly rotten, its fresh blue and black,

with fungus growing all over its face. And I knew that face. Ma would have wanted to see this, Jake explained to Eric. She spent her life trying to make it happen. I brought a hand to my mouth, feeling sick to my stomach. That was Grandma's corpse. Had he kept it this whole time? What had we buried at the funeral? There, he said, sitting Grandma up against a large rock.

I told you I'd make it happen, Ma. He ran a finger through her brittle gray hair, and then slowly lowered himself next to her. Soon you'll be able to rest, Ma. I swear on that. I recoiled. The sight making me nauseous. Jake was more monstrous inside than out. First, he'd killed Grandma, and now he was parading her corpse around like a doll at a kid's tea party.

I squeezed the dagger and took a deep breath. Then another, I can do this, I told myself. I have to do this. It didn't seem like there'd be a better opportunity. The way he sat now, looking toward Eric in the river, meant his back was to me. The trouble was he was sitting in damn near the center of the stone shore. Getting over there without making a sound would be hard,

may be impossible. With the rocks wet from the storm, they were likely to slip and shift. Damn it. Think, Matt. I ran a hand through my hair, considering the various ways this scenario might play out. In each of them, Jake turned around, found me, and beat me to death. I looked to Eric, who remained as still and silent as ever. If our roles were reversed, he'd have known what to do. That was his whole schstick, planning shit out, and not paying the price for being an impulsive moron. Still, it was a role somebody had to fill. I said a quiet prayer, and then moved from the brush as silently as I could. The forest floor was loamy and soft, ideal for my sneakers to live up to their namesake. The stone beach, on the other hand. I paused upon reaching it,

gazing forward through the goggles. Jake still hadn't moved, though it sounded like he was whispering something to Grandma's corpse. A shiver ran through me, and I ignored it. This was far from the weirdest shit I'd seen that night. Shake it off, Matt. I stared at the slick stones and swallowed. One stray pebble clacking against another would quite literally jeopardize everything. I had to do this carefully. Perfectly. Go on, Eric. Jake said.

The sound of his voice nearly made my heart beat out of my chest. Welcome him home. I don't think we should, Eric said. Have you thought this through? What do you really know about Pridey Holm?" His voice was uneven, stuttering, and anxious. Good. That many was still my brother.

I've thought about this for decades, Jake growled. I know you're a good kid, Eric. I know that. Which is why I made you his host. His massive furry hand tussled Grandma's decaying hair. Ma here, always felt it should have been Maddie, but he's too much of a shit, you know. And, Pride, A-Ome, he deserves the best." Eric whimpered, his fingers dancing at his sides.

Still now, Jake said. I told you to stay still. I know, I know, I just... What if Pride, A-Ome isn't what you think he is? What if he's going to do something terrible? Jake chuckled, and when he spoke, his voice was laced with menace. He'll do plenty of terrible things, I'll bet. But sometimes terrible is necessary.

You and I, Eric, we can't possibly understand something like him. Something so much greater. than us, greater than anything. Eric didn't move. He didn't speak. He just watched the river. His messy hair caught in the dying storm's breeze. He'll save us, Eric.

Jake said solemnly. But first, we need to welcome him home. Now go on. Say his name. Guide him. Eric was silent. Say it. Jake bellowed, and I nearly jumped.

His voice was so loud that my ears rang. Eric winced at Jake's demand, but whimpered Pride A-Ome's name all the same. Again. Guide him home. P-Hre-D-Ome. The air seemed to shift. The clouds growing darker. I wasn't an expert on dark magic or evil rituals, but that didn't seem like an especially positive sign. I was running out of time. Either I moved or I lost Eric forever.

Shit. Jake grunted, and the sound of shifting stones filled the night. He adjusted his position while holding a hand to a side over a blood-matted, strip of fur, most likely one of the places dad had shot him. So, I thought, regular punishment couldn't kill him, but it definitely still hurt him. He groaned, leaning back, and stones began tumbling down the shore, clacking into the river with dull splashes. Now, I slipped forward, my footsteps in concert with his movements, using their sounds to mask my own. Yes. Yes, this could work.

Another stretch from Jake. Another step from me. But then he stopped moving. Comfortable at long last. Shit. I was left standing in the middle of the stone shore halfway between the tree line and Jake. If I risked moving again, there was a good chance he'd hear me, and then that'd be it. Game over.

But if I didn't... Almost there, Eric. Jake said, looking up at the darkening sky. Keep speaking his name. Guide him and you'll be rewarded for it. He chuckled. You'll be the body of a god. Eric did, his voice sounding broken, fragile, and scared.

Pride, eh-olm, he said. said. His shoulders quaked with silent sobs. Prideom! Pray, deum! Louder! Jake screamed. He beat the ground with one of his massive fists. He needs to hear you from beyond the veil, don't he? Shit, I can hardly hear you over here.

That answered one question. Jake's hearing and mine weren't so different after all. That was good. I just hoped my head-toe-mud bath would be enough to hide my scent from him. I ain't going to remind you again, boy. Say his name and be loud about it. Eric whimpered, and I felt horrible. But I needed him to speak louder, too.

I needed his voice more now than ever. Pry de om, he said. Pry-day-oam. No. Good. With each of his shouts, I stole another meter of space, and I was soon close enough, that I smelled the rot and decay of Grandma's corpse, another two steps, and I smelled the matted blood on Jake's fur.

Being so close to him, with such a clear view, made me appreciate what a monster he truly was. I shifted the dagger in my grip, swallowing, as I tried my best to determine just how to I was going to plunge this thing into his heart. Where was his heart, anyway? His torso was massive. It seemed liable to be swimming around anywhere in there. Wait, I thought. What if I didn't aim for the heart at all?

Nolan had cautioned that Jake wouldn't be put down by a few slashes of silver, but maybe I could get the dagger somewhere else to slow him down. neck, or his spine, if I could hurt him enough that he couldn't hurt me back, I could finish him through the heart. It was a long shot, but then it was also my only shot. Eric shouted Pride A-Ome's name again, and I crept forward. One step, then another. Each footfall guarded by my brother's voice, echoing across the water over the trees,

apparently into an entirely different dimension. I made a mental note to avoid mentioning any of this to my therapist if I survived. She already thought I was crazy. A moment later, and I took the final step, coming up directly behind Jake. His matted brown fur was short and reeked of blood. Even sitting down, he was nearly two feet taller than me. I wouldn't be able to reach his neck, Not reliably. But I could sever his spine. Something moved in my periphery, and I glanced. Eric had turned around.

He was facing Jake now. Facing me. No time. I raised the dagger and plunged it forward, but that moment had been enough. Jake was already moving, even as the dagger raced toward his spinal column. The dagger sank into his flesh, and he let out of his arm. a shriek of pain. His wound sparked and sizzled, and he stumbled forward, writhing in agony. He was moving, though, which meant I missed his spine. Not good. I dashed forward, knowing I had a window

the size of an ant to get this right. I tore the dagger from his back and raised it up, and Jake's arm caught me in the side. I let out a wheeze of surprise as my body flew backward, landing, on the stone shore with a painful crunch, the goggles rolling off my head. You! Jake bellowed, rising from the rocks. Fresh blood wound its way from his lower back, down the fur on his legs, and his mouth snarled. It's horrible, jagged and broken teeth dripping saliva. You can't help yourself, can you, Maddie? You're a real pain in my eyes. You're a real pain in my ass and I don't think I care anymore. I think I'm gonna kill ya."

He took a step toward me, and it felt like the whole shoreline shook. "'Sorry, Ma,' he said, glancing at Grandma's cadaver. "'It's him or Pridea-home, and I ain't got a choice.' I scrambled backwards, beech stone slipping beneath my hands and feet. I knew I needed to stand up, needed to run, needed to do anything, but my body was in agony. Jake hadn't held back with that last smack, and it was all I could do to gasp breaths from my panicked lungs. And then I realized how screwed I really was. I'd lost the dagger. Shit, I scanned the area frantically, looking up and down the shore. I must have dropped

it when Jake hit me. Where was it? There. My heart sank. It was next to a fallen tree, some 30 feet away, and Jake was closing. It was far, much too far. I didn't have a choice, though. I lurched to my feet, ignoring the slicing pain tearing across my body, and then I dashed. Each footstep shot daggers through me, but I grit my teeth and ran in spite of it. Jake was faster. He leapt, his massive body crashing on the stones in front of me. Too long, he growled. Have I let you get away with your disrespect? I stepped backward, my will to fight evaporating. Jake was hurt, sure, but I was damn near dying. I weezed another breath, tasting blood in my mouth, and dropped to a knee.

The only shot I had at stopping this was on the other side of a wear-sacquatch and I could barely move. It was over. Damn it, I said. And I felt something warm slipped down my cheeks. I fell to my hands and knees, the tears vanishing on the already wet stones. Damn you! Jake's shadow draped across me. He kicked at me and I tumbled.

my body rolling over the stones and further from the dagger. I slid to a stop on my back, spitting out a mouthful of blood, and gazing up at the sky. It had grown so dark. Jake, I said. It heard even to speak, but I needed to. With everything I had, I sat myself upright. Let me go instead of Eric. Let me be the host.

Like Grandma wanted. It was all I had left. I couldn't fight him anymore. I couldn't stop this. But maybe I could still save Eric. You don't deserve it, Jake said. He stepped towards me. His demeanor different now.

More resolved. It didn't matter what Grandma had wanted. He was finally going to kill me. So be it. I'd given everything I'd. I had, and honestly, I was in so much pain that dying seemed easy now. Still, I looked to Eric. I wanted him to know how sorry I was for all of this.

I wanted him to know that no matter what, he was my brother, and I loved him. Eric was looking back at me, unmoving, silent, and smiling. Huh? I blinked. His eyes looked different. Narrower. His face had lost the anxious framing from earlier. Now he looked calm.

Collected. Eric? I said. I let you live. Because you were family, Maddie. Jake said. I became aware that he was standing beside me now. Eric, I said more loudly.

Jake gripped me by my hair and lifted me from the stones. I figured this family deserved to see the world we were making, figured we were owed it. But my patience is shot. His other hand grabbed my arm and squeezed. The pain was unbearable. I screamed. It felt like my muscles, my tendons, my tend. My condens and my bones were being ground to dust.

He lifted me to his gaping jaws, pressing them against the side of my head. I'm going to rip you apart, he said. Lim from limb. Trees shifted in the distance. And what's more? Jake continued. His canines, slick with saliva, sliding against my face with every word. I'm gonna really have a good time of it."

Something rumbled in the woods, and Jake paused, sniffing at the air. I hung limp by my hair, rotating slowly before him. The rumbling grew faster, deeper, like a rock slide thundering toward us. Jake tossed me to the ground, and I groaned my body seizing up in pain. I was faintly aware of something sharp digging into me, but I didn't have the energy or will to care anymore. Shit, Jake said. The trees parted, and something massive burst out of them. Something angry.

The great creature crashed down on the shore, and the ground trembled. Its eyes were a wild purple, and its skull was pointed with a thick jutting brow. The beast lowered one of its massive arms to the ground, breathing furiously. Each exhale marked by a plume of steam in the chilly night. Jake left me, slowly circling the newcomer. He sniffed at the air like a dog in a butcher shop, his Simeon hands flexing in and out. I didn't think you'd take so well to the serum. The serum.

Was that thing my dad? If it was, it looked nothing like a. him now. It stood at least 15 feet tall, towering over Jake by two or three heads. Its skin was a mottled gray, and two fangs grew upward from its lower jaw. A trail of tangled, thick hair fell over its naked shoulders. It looked like a mountain troll. Or is it even you in there? Jake continued chuckling. Maybe you just smelled the blood of an Englishman and came running on over. The troll let out a deafening screech.

Its voice, like nails on a chalkboard, turned up to 20. It dashed at Jake, but Jake was faster. His ape-like body gave him agility that the creature couldn't match, and he clambered up the thing's backside, wrapping his thick arms around its neck. Now I know where Maddie gets his temper from, Jake grunted, squeezing his chokehold tighter. His dear old dead. The troll bucked and hollered its short legs kicking up stones in every direction as it lashed about, attempting to reach Jake and toss him off. Shit. So that thing was my dad. Worse yet, Jake had him in a bad position. He lacked Jake's flexibility and apparently his

capacity for human thought. Whatever self-awareness Jake and Nolan had learned over their years, was missing from my father. He was near mindless, thrashing about like a rabid animal. He looked feral. Jake was distracted, though. The dagger gleamed in the corner of my vision, framed by the last dying rays of moonlight. If I could reach it, maybe I could catch Jake unaware and hurt him enough for Dad to get the upper hand. Once Dad had knocked him around some, I could stake the bastard and put an end to this summoning bullshit. I pressed down with my good arm, trying to use it to leverage myself upright. But the pain was unbearable.

I collapsed back onto the bench, battered and broken. It was no use. I was just some guy trying to fight literal monsters, and I'd paid the price. But I wasn't alone. Eric, I called, craning my neck to look at him. He hadn't moved. On the contrary, he looked to have settled in. His eyes danced in the moonlight, and the faintest hint of a smirk played at the corners of his mouth.

"'Eryk!' I shouted again. In the background, the sounds of our father's voice grew quieter. More labored. Jake's chokehold might not be able to kill him, but we'd seen with a shotgun blast that enough punishment could slow the cryptids down. Eric, look at me for God's sake. Eric did. But it didn't seem like my brother.

He looked identical to him, but his eyes were cold. Dead. His anxious fidgeting had been replaced by a calm indifference. What is it, Matt? He said. The tone was all wrong. Damn it. Had the summoning finished?

If it had, it lacked the climactic. flair old horror movies it promised me. That's dad, I said, looking side-long at the wheezing troll. He needs our help. My brother walked toward me with an uncharacteristic swagger. His messy black hair swept up in the breeze. Why don't you help him then? He said. I'm a little hurt, I spat, gritting my teeth. In case you couldn't tell. Eric drew up in front of me. His skin paler than I remembered. His eyes flickered with hints of gold. We spent several long moments just staring at each other.

My heart beating out of my chest. He looked perfectly comfortable, though. Amused even. When he spoke, it was a word I didn't understand. Something from another language. Dyrul. The world began to melt away. The sounds of Jake and Dad retreated into the background.

The sensations around me faded until I was surrounded only by an encroaching, suffocating darkness. What was happening? Was I dying? My mother's voice echoed around me. Please, Matthew, she wept. Please. I could see her now. Her figure coming alive through the black of my memories.

She wore her favorite summer dress, dotted with bright sunflowers, and on her head, a wicker gardening hat. She smiled at me. Mom, I said, my voice stronger than it had been earlier. I felt whole again here in the depths of my memories. She brought a finger to her mouth. Shh, Eric's coming. We don't want to ruin the surprise, do we? I blinked, staring at her.

I'd almost forgotten the shine of her dark hair, the playfulness in her eyes, the kindness and her smile. She was such a nice memory. Why had I avoided it for so long? The light that framed her spilled out, illuminating the hardwood floor we stood upon, and then the walls with their dull baby blue wallpaper, and finally the ceiling, where an old fan spun lazily, cooling us from the summer sun. We were in the room I shared with Eric.

In each corner were our two beds, dressed in bright Power Rangers' blankets. The floor was covered in action figures and unfinished rounds of board games. The memory shifted. Eric was with us in the room now, small and young, just as I was. We must have been nine or ten. He didn't look happy, though. He was throwing toys about, stomping around the room and screaming at Mom. I don't care about it.

my birthday, I just don't want to hear him anymore. I want the voice to leave me alone." The voice, I thought. The bedroom began to twist, spin out of focus. I was back in the unending darkness, that blank void where my memories lived. She wants this to be her last dose, Grandma said. She sounded hazy. Dreamlike. Her words drifted in from somewhere in the unending abyss.

She'll have one last swim, and then she wants it stopped. For all of them. She's a coward, Jake said. The memory began to build again, and I was in the outhouse. Their voices were right outside of it. Eric has all the potential, and she's jealous of him. Matthew, Grandma said. Not Eric.

Matthew is the one best suited. He's less affected by the serum. But that's exactly why it needs to be Eric, Jake argued. We want somebody powerful, somebody willing to do what needs to be done. Hush. Keep your voice down. The boys might hear. Relax, ma.

Jake said with a side. They are swimming in the river, and Nolan's keeping an eye on him. I heard him pacing. Errik's potential is enormous, and we should be leverage in that. He's not himself on the serum." Grandma snapped. And by the way, Alice suspects you've been dosing him. I assured her that I've forbidden it, but I'm beginning to think that you're not listening to

me either. kick something, a bucket or a large can. Come on, you know Alice doesn't believe in this anymore. She's killing herself, fighting the damn serum. You've seen her. She looks half dead. It's her choice to make, Grandma said. I'll remind you that she's watching the boys from the water.

I wouldn't try anything if I were you. Jake laughed. She's the little sister. I'd be warning her not to try anything. The memory lurched again, this time taking us back to the mountain. Except it was a bright day, and Mom, Eric and I were on the river, sitting up on the big rock where he'd read mysteries. Mom looked more unhappy than she had earlier.

Her eyes were framed by dark bags, and her posture was slouched, exhausted. She smiled in spite of it, though, and I smiled back. So happy to be with her again. So happy to feel like a family again. If we catch a fish, can I kill it? Eric said. The comment caught me off guard. Eric was staring blankly into the water, his skin paler than before.

He kept scratching at the back of his neck, and I saw marks there. Some scabbed over. I call it mad. I get to kill it." Don't worry so much about that, Mom said calmly. I tried to speak too, but the words weren't there. I was an accessory to this, it seemed, and nothing more. Still, it was nice to be back here.

Before things had turned so bad, before that night had ruined everything. Try to enjoy the water, Mom added. It's a beautiful day. the sun. Eric spat, bitterness creeping in. I want to see the cave again. Mom shifted, looking uncomfortable. Grandma told you we can't go there, sweetheart. For some reason, this memory felt familiar, though I couldn't piece what happened next. He glanced at her. Uncle Jake took me there. I know where it is. My mouth opened. Words. came out. But they weren't mine. They were words I'd said years ago.

Come on, Eric. Jake's letting us borrow his fishing gear, and it's a nice day. Who cares about a stupid cave? He didn't so much as glance at me, just stared back over the water, silent. My vision blurred, and the memory swept me away again. This time the change was subtle, and it couldn't have been more than a few hours later. The sun was setting now, painting the blue sky in shades of orange and red. I was reeling in a fish. Why did this feel so familiar? It gave me a horrible feeling, and I couldn't place why. Mom, I shouted. I think it's a big one. Great job, Maddie. Uncle Jake is going to be really impressed. She beamed at me, and I felt my heart melt. Just in time for dinner, She added with a wink.

I loved her so much. Missed her so much. I'd forgotten how moody Eric could be, but that didn't matter. Not really. Kids were like that after all, and we were a family here. A real one. I finished reeling the fish in and pulled the hook from its mouth. The trout flopped and squirmed on the rock, desperate to return to the river.

My young stomach twisted, realizing this. This was the part where we had to kill it. I'd never killed anything bigger than a bug. Can I do it? Eric said, doing a poor job of masking his excitement. He eyed the fish hungrily. Mom looked tired. Exhausted.

Maddie caught it. I think he should. It's okay, I said. I honestly didn't think I had it in me to kill the thing. You do it. I tossed the fish to Eric gladly. and he held it on the rock. I think it'd be easier with the knife, Eric said.

Jake always uses the knife when he kills fish. He looked at our mother expectantly, his eyes drifting to the tackle box at her side. She hesitated, but opened the latches on the tackle box and pulled out Jake's gutting knife. She passed it to Eric candle first. He took it eagerly and gazed at it reverently, before stabbing it down through the fish's head. It wriggled, and he hacked it again and again. Then he cut into it, carving at it on the rock. Gut spilled out, and blood coated his fingers.

Stop, I said. You're ruining it. He looked up, and I felt uneasy. Those eyes, that panting excitement on my brother's face. I was beginning to remember this moment, and I wanted to leave. The sun inched behind the tree line, casting a shadow over the rock and over us. Shut up, Matt, Eric growled. That's enough, Eric, mom said. A slight nervousness had slipped into her tone. She held out her hand. You've killed it. Now let's put away the knife. Eric looked down at the blade, dripping with blood, coated in what remained of the fish.

He blinked, then stared up at our mother. There was something wrong with the way he looked at her. It was the same way he'd gazed at the fish. No, he said. I want to keep the knife. Just give it to her, you dick? I snapped. I was angry at him for ruin in my fish.

and our dinner. Young me had been so proud of catching it, so proud of the chance to show it to Uncle Jake, that I was practically fuming over Eric's treatment of it. I was too young to notice the danger in the situation, in Eric's expression. I wanted to look away, but the memory dictated I stare at him, furious, 11 years old and completely oblivious to the subtext of the moment. Dread began mounting inside of me, but I had no way to communicate that to the younger me, to my mother. The truth was, I realized why this moment felt so wrong and so familiar. It was twelve years ago, moments before nightfall.

The knife, Eric, mom said more forcefully. She nodded toward her open hand. Now, please. I already told you I'm keeping it. Eric said. He pulled back, clutching the knife to his chest. Tears came from his eyes. He wants me to have it, and he'll hurt me if I give it back.

Now, Mother said. Her patience had run its course, and she reached for it. Eric slashed at her. She recoiled in a spray of blood, cradling her hand. to her stomach. I froze my young heart thundering in my chest. No, no, there was no way. This couldn't have happened. It was a lie. All of it. Our mother had died in a riverboating accident. I knew that. Eric knew that. Pride Aome was doing this, affecting my memories. Strangely, Eric, I didn't think it'd take any convincing for you at all.

Jake's words echoed, Or are you still pretending? You didn't murder my sister. The memory kept playing, and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't affect anything here. I couldn't even look away. I was at the mercy of its history. Eric rose and mom tried to as well, but he caught her across the face with a knife.

More blood? So much blood. She stumbled backward, falling with an anguished moan. Please, Matthew. Please. Her voice broke my paralysis, and the younger me launched at them, my fear and shock, replaced by adrenaline. Eric slammed the slammed the knife into her, and I kicked him as hard as I could, square in the face. He flew off of her, his body slid down the big rock and fell to the beach with a groan. My chest felt tight with panic, with terror. I turned to Mom and saw the knife sitting in her chest. Blood pooled over her white dress, turning it a horrible crimson. Tears spilled out of my eyes, and I screamed for help. I screamed for Jake, for Grandma.

What did I do now? I was just a kid. Mom, I whimpered. She didn't respond. Her eyes were blank. Her body still. The gray of the rock had been replaced by a slick coating of red. Barking sounded in the distance.

Griff. Something struck in the back of my skull, and I dropped next to Mom. My head throbbed and my vision blurred. Beside me, there was a wet sound, and I realized the knife was being pulled from Mom's chest. I rolled over, disoriented, and scared, and running entirely on instinct now. Eric stood above me. He slashed at me, and I threw up a hand to protect my face. Blood sprayed across my T-shirt, and I screamed. He swung the, blade again, cutting it me over and over. Finally, with his other hand, he grabbed my arm

and pressed it down, out of his way, and then he was on top of me, the knife to my throat, and I was too terrified, in too much pain to move or react. His eyes glinned with a hint of gold. No, that's too quick, Eric said. He adjusted himself. moving the blade away from my throat. Agony tore through me. The knife stabbed into my side, slowly sliding deeper and deeper. My will to fight began to fade. I could feel the younger me giving in and giving up. My brother was killing me. I watched the memory play out in horror. That wasn't Eric. It wasn't the man I knew. Something,

Terrible had happened to him. Griff's barking grew louder, and I heard Grandma shouting. Eric looked up, his face losing the manic terror. The next moment, Jake pulled him off of me, and Eric kicked and screamed and shouted. His voice turned to mumbles, slurring, before going completely silent. He's killed them, Grandma said. Inside of my younger body, I felt my heartbeat slowing. My skin grew cold.

It was all I could do to keep my eyelids open for fear that if I shut them, I might never open them again. Things were dimming, getting murkier by the second. Somebody appeared over top of me, holding my eyes open and staring into them. Huh, Maddie's still alive, but he's hurt bad. It was Jake. We can save him with a dose. Grandma's wimperes turned to sobbing howls.

My owls. Ma, Jake said. The serum. Hand it to me or your grandson dies. I couldn't see Grandma from my position. But she must have agreed silently. Because Jake was leaning over me again, this time with a satchel draped across his shoulder. He reached into the bag and pulled something out.

And then I felt a thin, sharp. sharpness pierced my forearm. And Alice? Jake said, looking over to where my mom's body lay. I don't think a dose of this is going to make a difference for her. Grandma shuffled into frame. She looked panicked. Her eyes were wide, and her frame, normally strong for her age, shook with horror.

We'll have to give her more, then. What if it's not enough? Jake said, rising for me. My vision was distorted. Hardly there at all, but I could make out an empty syringe in his hand. He stuffed it in the satchel bag. What if she dies anyway? How are we going to explain that?

A pause. We'll have to throw her in the river. Downstream. Somewhere we can lose her body, grandma said. Fair enough. Jake replied. Can't have the authorities poking around up here. We'll need to make sure that.

The boys don't remember anything. This was a river boating accident. Nothing more. You hear me? Jacob. Poor Maddie's hand got cut up by the propeller when the boat toppled over. Grandma nodded to herself, running a hand through her short curls of gray hair. That's it.

That's it. We'll scuttle your fishing boat and tell the sheriff it was an accident. Nothing more. Let's hope she survives, then, Jake said with a grim chuckle. I love that boat. My vision faded to black, and then slowly, gradually, sounds returned. The high-pitched screeches of my father being choked by Jake. The words of Eric, or the monster wearing his skin, still standing before me.

You see now, that was him all along, Eric said. He leaned down and opened my jacket with a look of fascination. Jake did all this. Good effort, but unfocused. Messy. He gently put a hand near my stomach. Ah, and there you go. I suspect it as much, given your glassy expression.

You've already done it. I looked down, following his gaze to my open jacket. Shit. The syringe I'd pocketed earlier was sticking out of my side, still halfway full of swirling emerald serum. Its cap must have fallen off. I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Matthew, Erick said, leaning down to whisper in my ear. It's finished.

Eric's gone. I've crossed from beyond the veil, and now there's no turning back. I wanted to scream, to cry, but it was too much, I was too weak, too hurt. Pridea Yom brought a cold hand to the side of my head and tilted it, so that I was staring at Jake and Dad. Their fighting had escalated, and Dad was losing. Badly. Jake's Sasquatch arms still squeezed his throat, but now he'd bit into him as well.

His long, jagged canines pierced his neck. Blood leaked from my dad by the gallon, drenching the shore beneath. Your father's weakening, Prideyholm said. Once your uncles weakened him enough, he'll kill him. He can't touch the dagger, I said. My words were slurred now. Was that because of the serum?

them. It's... it's silver. Pridey om chuckled, standing up and dusting Eric's jeans off. You've caught on to this pretty well. Alas, no need for the silver. Not when your uncle can merely rip your heart free and be done with it. I didn't feel well. I felt nauseous, dazed. It was hard to think, like each thought was moving through molasses. You can stop it, Matthew. Pridey Homes' word seemed distant, difficult to make out.

Join me. And we can stop it together. Another screech, and Dad's body crashed to the ground, shaking the shoreline and causing a small rock slide of pebbles into the river. I wanted to rest. Close my eyes and go to sleep forever. I wasn't afraid anymore. I was ready.

Another screech, weaker this time. Dad was hurt, and he needed me. I'd lost everybody. Mom, Eric, Grandma. Dad was all I had laughed. And I was letting him down all over again. I didn't have a choice. If Pride A-Ome was already here, then it didn't matter whether or not I became a monster.

Not anymore. The war was lost. But I could still win the battle. I could still kill Jake and I could still save my father. I found the syringe in my stomach, and I pressed down on the plunger. Adrenaline rioted through me. Each breath like fire in my lungs and each movement sending pins and needles shooting through my nervous system. My eyes bulged as pressure built in my skull, and I felt thirsty, so thirsty.

that my mouth was parched and my tongue was fat. But I wasn't thirsty for water. I wanted blood. I needed it. My bones snapped and twisted, piercing my skin at points, while I choked on my teeth as they fell free of my gums. I let out an anguished scream as my spine elongated, popping and cracking,

as it snaked its way further up my growing tors. so. I clenched my hands, willing myself to bear this pain. Was this what dad had gone through? Mom. My neck cranked, snapping in all the wrong directions. Shit, I'd never been in such agony. It was like my entire body was being torn apart and reassembled from the inside out. My consciousness flickered, but my grounding exercises kept me awake. That in my dad. I had to save him even if it killed me. I had to because he was the only person left to save, and I couldn't bear to let another person down. Lucky for me, saving him meant killing Jake.

I blinked, and my eyelids felt slick, wet, and heavy. My vision was no longer the dim, shadowy thing from moments ago, rather now it was a mess of colors, An abstract painting of madness and instinct. A shotgun blast rang out, and I staggered to my feet, searching for the source. Nobody else was here, though. It was still just pride, A-home, my father, and Jake. No guns. I shook my head, feeling dazed and disoriented.

Another blast sounded, and another. I realized they were coming from right beneath me, and I looked down, catching sight of my fingernails falling to the stone shore. They dropped in slow motion, like leaves drifting down from trees, or something descending through water. One struck the ground, and I recoiled, its gentle collision, creating another ear-splitting blast of sound. I became aware of my ears tugging upward, growing on the side of my head, A cacophony of noise began erupting around me, each sound amplified by a thousand, each bringing new agony to my senses.

I could hear everything distinctly. My father's heartbeat, slow and labored, drummed like a deaf march, while Pride A-Ome's laughter echoed like bats screaming in a cave, I was consumed by sound pain, and terror. Look at that, Jake's voice said. Loud as a jet engine. Your sons finally decided to come around.

I heard the muscles in Jake's arm contract, followed by a chorus of my father's desperate wheezes. More blood on the shore. Could I hear Jake smiling? I needed to get over there. I stepped toward them and stumbled. My legs numb and unresponsive. Damn it. Clearly my body was still working its way through the transformation. It was all I could do to stand on my fast-growing legs and not keel over. I growled, staring at Jake. My entire being felt magnetized toward him. I was desperate to sink my teeth into him, to pay him back a hundred times for all the horror he'd caused my family. Soon, I promised.

Soon! My breath quickened in anticipation, but each gulp of air felt different. Smoother. Easier. Where before my exhales would steam in the chilly night. Now there was nothing. The air inside of me was frigid cold. I was leveling out now, adjusting to the serum.

The ungodly pain that had been omnipresent before was slowly tapering off. off, and I realized that transformation was nearly finished. I looked down, gazing at my new body beneath my leather jacket and torn t-shirt. I was lean, but I felt strong, stronger than I ever believed I could be, stronger than I ever believed anything could be. Yes, I could do it now. I could end Jake. I could drink his blood.

and wash away this horrible thirst. I licked my lips and found my tongue much longer than before. More serpentine and forked. Welcome to the family, Maddie. Jake said, Why don't you come on down and convince your old dad to see some light of reason? I flexed my hands and realized they too were different now. My fingers were long and thin, playing host.

to a set of horribly sharp claws. Good. Those would come in handy. I won't lie to you, Matthew, Prideaum said. I'm impressed, but unsurprised. I looked to him, willing myself to speak, but only managing guttural grunts and snarls. He chuckled, placing his hands on his hips. Still learning, aren't you?

His eyes shifted to Jake, who was. still perched atop my father, chewing into his neck, drenching the shore in blood. It took Jacob years to master sentience, and longer still to truly control his form, he said. I shouted at him to stop this, to let my brother go, but it materialized as an ear-splitting roar and nothing more. You are adjusting incredibly well. Pride Aum circled me. His gold-flecked eyes drifting up and down my person. His lips in a near constant state of grin.

Your father is nearly as brutish as he was a man, but you. He twitched. His head snapping to the side with a choking cough. A moment later, he ran a gentle hand over his neck and smiled. I'm sorry. I'm still getting used to my... my new suit. Looks like we're both acquainting ourselves to these new forms, aren't we? I heard his words and understood them, but I couldn't respond. Why not?

What? I managed to say, though the word came out twisted, broken, and strange. Pride Ae-Oam's eyes lit up. Ah, there it is. A new record, I should think. He pulled out Eric's phone and looked at it, before shrugging and tossing it into the river. Eh, dead battery. Can't save the time for certain, but your arrival at speech is certainly impressive nonetheless. What? I said again, pushing the word out more naturally now. I tried to say the next piece, but only managed to choke and growl. Easy does it, Matthew, pride Aum coached. try again, this time without the emotion. It's often such a stumbling block.

What am I? Prideaume clapped his hands enthusiastically. Oh, well done. I always knew you to be an apex, but to achieve this level of mastery so quickly. You, you are a true prodigy. I would have been happy to have been happy to have you serve as my vessel. What am I? Oh, oh, right, Pridey Homes said, bringing a hand to his chin and appraising me thoughtfully. Well, you're certainly quite tall.

Those fangs, though. His playful smile vanished, replaced by a piercing smirk. Hmm, I would say you resemble a vampire. One of the old ones. Old ones? I said. Dad's voice rang out, and I realized I didn't care anymore. I stepped toward Jake, my legs feeling stronger and more balance now.

Yes, yes. It was high time to finish this. I flexed my claws and let out a screech before springing forward, ready to end the bastard's existence. Pride A-on grabbed my heel mid-air. and flung me backward onto the shore. Yes, Pride A-Oam said. The old ones were those who existed before the madness of man, before people wiped them from existence.

They are the first born of this world. I staggered back to my feet. All right, so Pride A-Ome was powerful and fast. Faster than I was. I looked back to Jake and my father, hating that even as I was now, there was still this wall between us, the dipshit beyond the veil. Still, Jake wasn't killing him. He'd need to pull his heart for that, and he seemed more interested in simply keeping him out of play. Matthew, Pride Ae-home said. I heard a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Are you ignoring me? No. Oh, well, good. Such a relief. What is the first-born? Oh, excuse me. I forget myself. Context is everything, isn't it? You see, I'm not the villain you've painted me as. And yes, I see the glint in your eyes.

The anger. The desperation, the fear. I assure you, though, that I am no more your enemy than the breath in your lungs." He spoke so casually. It was hard to imagine him as the source of all this horror. He carried himself more like an accountant. Eons ago, Pridium said, before man began its slow descent into unfiltered madness, destruction,

and war. There was a balance, a calmness in the universe. I once walked this world, you know. I drink in its beauty every day, and I bathed in its wonder. He did a small pirouette, breathing deep. It was truly the gem of the universe. Of any universe, it was heaven. How much more stories!

I growled. My body lurching forward on its own accord. I felt so thirsty, so dry. I needed to drink something. Jake's blood would do. Yes, yes, it would do just fine. I stepped toward him again and Pride A-Ome hopped in front of me. Sorry, he said.

I'm almost finished. Then you can do as you please. As I said, context is very important, Matthew. My body was desperate for blood. My muscles twitched and spasmed, eyeing Jake. I bottled it, though, pushed it all the way down and put a cork on it. Just a little longer, I told myself. Sooner or later, this cosmic asshole would finish his monologue,

and then I could eviscerate my uncle. Prideaum folded his arms, noticing my distraction. The truth is, You humans have ruined everything, haven't you? You've spread across this world erecting steel monuments of greed and slavery, murdering the planet with every step that you take. His face. My brother's face, fell into a snarl. You've drained this world of its minerals, its oils, its very lifeblood.

You've cast a shadow of poison across it, filling it with waste and fallout. You think yourself gods. But you treat each other as ants. He took another breath and shook as he did so. He was furious and growing angrier with each word. His gold eyes began swirling, glowing and brimming, with an impossible depth. You've murdered the old ones. Centuries ago, of course, but with wanton cruelty.

The words fell from his mouth like a guillotine. You've wiped them from human memory, leaving them only as myths. Legends. Stories lost to time, foolish to believe, because they were only ever fictitious. Who are you? I said, surprised to find my voice sounding much more level now. I'm a means to an end, Matthew. I am the universe redeeming itself.

I am the pride of this world. Come to excise the cancer that his man. My father let out a cry, and his massive head dropped to the shore. He gave another swing of his arm, though it was weak now. half-hearted. Maddie? Jake called. I'm serious.

Get over here and tell your old man to settle down before I actually kill him. My vision exploded into a watercolor of red, and I couldn't control myself anymore. Jake! I screamed, launching over Pride A-home. The force of my jump was more than I imagined, and I cleared the gap by wider than I'd intended. I landed on the far shore with Jake and my father, now between Pride A-Oam and I. Jake, still eyeless, turned his head to face me as the sound of my body landing on the stones reached him. But he was moving slowly, so slowly. I might not be as fast as

Pride A-Oam, but I was faster than Jake. I bounded across the stones. My body long and long, But with each step, I grew more familiar with it, until eventually I dropped onto all fours and galloped toward my uncle, letting loose a feral screech. He hardly had time to paint his face with terror before I was on him, my claws slicing into his sides. He raised an arm to bash me, but I dodged at easelay. In this form, he moved so slowly. It was like killing a snail. I cut into him. Over and over.

Instinct overtook me, and I understood what I needed to do. I understood what I needed to destroy this tendon, that nerve cluster. Moments later, I landed back on the stones, breathing heavy, my long claws wet and red. The sound of fur drifting across fur met my ears, and Jake dropped from my father's backside, lying motionless on the shore. You little, Jake said, I gave you this and you. I stepped over him, pressing one of my thin legs to his chest. You gave me a living nightmare, Jake.

You took my brother from me. You nearly stole my father. The words were coming easily now. I was getting the hang of this serum. You forced me to become a monster. I leaned down, and the primal piece of me understood this fight was already finished. I'd cut his tendons apiece. He couldn't move anymore.

Not for a while, at least. Worst of all, I continued. My fangs were inches from Jake's mangled face. You dosed my brother, and you stole my mom. I pressed my hand to my chest. My claws digging into his flesh. Maddie, he sputtered. Come on now, I did what needed to be done.

You know that. Deep, deep down, I mean, for God's sake, look behind you, kid. I brought the Lord beyond back from the veil. He can fix this world. make it right again. Make it right, I said, tasting his excuse. That's it, Maddie. He's going to make it right.

And yeah, a few people had to get hurt, but your brother and I, we've done something incredible. You've done something unforgivable, I said, and I tore into his neck with my fangs. drinking his blood and my body shook with ecstasy. It tasted better than anything, and I'd waited so long. My, my lord, Jake said. His voice weak now. His head lulled to the side, gazing toward the monster in my brother's skin. Please, I brought you.

Pointless, I thought. I already knew Priding I wasn't going to save him. How could he? Everything he just admonished about humanity, Jake embodied. He was the poison. The demon in the shadows that stole the pride of this world and manipulated it for his own ends. You thought, I said, that you'd be rewarded for your murder, your hate, and your sick bullshit. I lifted my head from his neck, Jake's blood pouring from my mouth.

I positioned my hand over his large chest, my ears picking up the rapid beating of his terrified heart. You're not greater, Jake. I thrust my hand through his ribs and gripped his heart. He let out a scream, one so violent that the birds exploded from their roost, filling the night sky with wings and feathers. I leaned back down, and I put my mouth inches from his ear. I am. My fist closed tight around his heart, crushing it like a peeled orange before pulling it free from his chest, in a shower of blood. I closed my eyes, feeling the softness of what

remained of his heart. I felt the warmth of his blood on my body. I tasted it on my lips. The sound of clapping pulled me away. Pride Aeom strolled in front of me, smiling enthusiastically. You actually get it, Matthew. You understand the madness of this world, don't you? This isn't a solution, I said, looking at my father. He was bleeding, but I could see the puncture wounds beginning to heal.

Whatever was in that serum truly was incredible. Horrifying, but incredible. It's a death sentence for humanity, I said. Death sentence? Pride A-Ome looked offended. You want to turn everybody into this, don't you? It's the only way to fix this heaven, Matthew, he replied. What sort of heavens filled with monsters?

I asked. Pradayom shook his head, placing an impossibly cold hand on my arm. Monsters exist in the hearts of men, Matthew. Look at your uncle. Was his sin being a beast? Or the horror that lived beneath the fur in fangs? The horror of his human aspiration? Jake was an asshole, I thought.

But a poor example. There's a lot of good people out there," I said. They don't deserve this." No, but they don't deserve to be subjugated either, do they? Slaves to a world that gives them pennies for their efforts, while their lords grow fat on their sweat and blood. He leaned close to May. His voice intoxicating.

Men treat men like monsters, Matthew. The beast of the world. live by a code, and a simple one. They exist to survive and little else. They act as their instincts dictate. And even in their proliferation, they could never bring this planet to its knees. He clasped his hands behind my back and began circling me. Nuclear warfare will be the end of this world. I've seen it. The ash, the fire, and the unimaginable pain. He looked to my grandmother's corpse, still propped up by the water. When that time comes, the dead will be the grateful few.

You cannot imagine the horror that awaits your human race. It's not your decision, I said. If we screw things up, we screw things up on our own terms. Now let my brother go. He paused, giving me a remorseful look. Erick's a powerful vessel. Unstable, but powerful. To give him up would be to relinquish a millennia of effort.

He shook his head. No, no, I'm afraid I cannot. Not. Many times throughout history, people have come close to summoning me, to opening the gateway between our worlds. They've made a couple offerings, perhaps, or three, but never four, and never with a host so capable. He flexed his hands, and a nearby tree exploded in a shower of bark and leaves. I jumped back, stumbling off of Jake's corpse.

I felt stronger than I'd ever dreamed, but that? What was this guy capable of? I swallowed terror beginning to grip me, as I realized the gulf between our abilities. What? What was that? Pridey Ome interrupted. That was what I've been waiting for. He snapped his fingers, and the sky flickered blue before returning to the

block of night. Eric's even stronger than you, you know. In this body, I can nearly touch the full extent of my power. I can almost wield the veil, barring some instances of insubordination. He gave his head an irritated shake. Though, though should come under control in due time. Point is, Matthew, I've waited far too long to give this up in the name of a single human beings' emotional experience. He offered me a half-smile. I apologize, truly. But it is for the good of us all.

Good of us all, I thought. I'd heard that bullshit before. So what? You're going to wipe us all out? Scyonara humanity? No, no, not at all. I thought we covered this. I'm going to make everybody as you are, Matthew. Greater. I'm going to reroute this world from calamity and back toward simple beauty. I'll take the human mold and cast it into that of the old ones, into beings free from human ambition and horror.

You might be surprised to hear that most people don't find werewolves and vampires to be free from horror, I said. Pridey home smirked. Ah, Matthew. Humanity is always feared what it doesn't understand. How's this then? I growled. Jake was every bit the monster he always was. Old one or not.

And your serum. That made my brain. rather murder our mother. That was an issue with your family serum, I'm afraid. Pridium looked down, sighing. Regretful, of course, but ultimately necessary. To create a truly pure transformation within a human lifespan would be a near impossible undertaking.

He winked, and stones began to rise, floating around him. Luckily for me, I suffer no such limitations. In this body, I can recreate the old ones in their original image. I can free this world from the shackles of humanity and return it to a simple reality of instinct and survival. You start turning people into monsters, and they're going to kill people. Billions, if I'm lucky, he said. You're twisted. I'm necessary.

If you could see your world's future, you'd grovel at my feet, Matthew. But you're too absorbed in your humanity to care. To you, the only thing that matters is your brother and the rest of your family. You lack the perspective to see things on a scale so. So his endgame was turning everybody into a monster in the name of stopping some future nuclear wasteland. If that were true, it could almost justify it. Almost.

But it meant removing the one thing we possessed, our free will. There was a chance we didn't devolve into nuclear war, wasn't there? A chance we figured this shit out. as human beings. I had to trust in that. It was all I had left. Let Eric go, I said. I was done negotiating, done listening to his rationalizations. I wanted my brother back, and I didn't care how powerful this dickhead was. I'm not going to let you turn this world into monsters." Priding Home laughed. Ah, too late. The world's already full of monsters. They just look like you, so you don't mind

so much. I wrecked my mind for a way out of this. How was I supposed to force him out of Eric? I had no clue. This was always Eric's area of expertise. The planning. The know-how. I hated myself for not reading more of the cave's books when I'd had the chance. Maybe there was some mention of a way to reverse the ritual. Yeah, yeah, that was it. If Pridayum had walked the earth before and been banished, then there was definitely a way to send him back. I just needed to figure out how.

I think I'll go ahead and get started, Pradayam said. He stepped into the river. No, he stepped onto it. He walked along the water to the center of the current. This is where I was chained, you know, a bit further upstream. But still, it's almost poetic that this should also be where I deliver this world's redemption. He took a deep breath and raised his arms, and the water drifted upward, dancing around him. Sit tight, Matthew.

Soon I'll show you that change is a necessary part of our universe. and that some change is inevitable. Shit. Right now? He was going to turn the world right now? I looked around me, desperately hoping for some way to stop this. But I didn't have a library here. I didn't have any counterspells or ways of reversing the summoning ritual. I just had me, my comatose father, and the dagger. I swallowed, staring at the gleaming. flaming blade on the shore. It was silver, but its hilt wasn't. I could grab it. Use it.

Sarthu. Pradium said. His voice so loud that the very tree shifted. Barthu now shrie. I didn't know how long his spell would take, but I did know I was running out of time. I screamed into the night and and bashed my fist into the stone shore. What was I supposed to do? What options did I even have any more? My mother's voice echoed in my mind. Matthew, please. Priday-ohm, I shouted, hoping I could distract him, maybe by myself some time, maybe by everybody

some time. Tell me about the old ones. Tell me about the veil. Asano Valtoro, he said. His voice was everywhere now, and it felt thick with power. The river water swirled about him now, a cascading spire of green and black. Sir Pallor, he continued. It was no use.

Apparently he'd had his fill with lecturing me on all the reasons human being sucked. He was focused now, determined. to finish his incantation. Soon, the whole world would turn into a breeding ground for monsters like Jake, and I'd be out of a family. Think, Matt. Damn it, think. The dagger.

It was an option, but one I didn't want to use. I eyed it, resting upon the stones and gleaming in Pride A-Olems-Light show. It could kill Jake and Nolan, but could it kill the bastard they were. born to appease. I grit my rows of teeth, and I stared up at the entity wearing Eric's skin. My brother didn't ask for this. He'd never wanted to be dosed with that serum. He'd never wanted to become a vessel for some Eldritch dipshit. He wanted to be an engineer, start a small family, and maybe play video games in his spare time. Thinking about using the dagger on my little brother made me feel like crying.

But in this form, I wasn't certain I could. Instead, my body just swelled with frustration, and my muscles grew tight and swollen, building with energy. I could reach Prydeum from here. I could jump the length of the river and get at him. My eyes swiveled to the dagger. I could drive it through his heart. As I was now, I knew my aim wouldn't be an issue.

But it wasn't fair to Eric. And I doubted I could live knowing I'd killed my own brother. Matthew, please. I shook the memory. Not now, Mom. Not now. You're in quite the predicament, aren't you, son? The voice was faint, difficult to make out, but it was there.

Somebody had spoken to me. I swung my vision around. Dad was still unconscious on the shore, and Pride Aeum was still. still bellowing his chant. Then who? No. I spun around to Jake and breathed the sigh of relief. He was every bit as dead as I'd made him.

Which only left. My eyes shifted to Grandma. There was no way. I leapt and landed in front of her, showering her blackened corpse in an upkick of stones. She still looked dead enough. I'd been burned for thinking that twice tonight already. A memory tugged at my mind. Nolan had mentioned that it'd require four offerings to summon Pride Aom.

Himself and Jake had counted for two. And my dad would have been the third. I figured that since the bastard actually did get summoned, that I must have counted for the fourth. Even though Nolan suspected I didn't meet the criteria. After all, I might not have been a full cryptid at that point. But I did have multiple doses of the serum under my belt, and was well on my way to becoming one.

Even still, when I left Nolan, he was at death's door. Would he have counted? Or was there another monster out there? I stared at my grandma's rotting corpse, my enhanced sense of smell, really noticing just how pungent she reeked. It made sense that she could be the fourth, I mean, who better than the woman who started at all. Grandma?

I said, laying a gentle, blood-smeared set of claws on her shoulder. Are you alive? Oh, Lord help me if you're speaking to a dead woman. The voice again, but it wasn't coming from Grandma. In fact, it sounded more masculine on second hearing. I wheeled around. Might be we don't have much hope. After all."

Where are you? I said. Who are you? I eyed pride, Aome, relieved to see him still absorbed in his ritual. As a bonus, his voice echoed around us, drowning our conversation. Up here, kid. I glanced upward. All I saw were trees and dark sky.

Maybe it was a bird? I felt thoroughly confused. Was I getting me? pranked in the middle of the apocalypse. A branch shifted, and then another. Leaves rustled, but strangely only on a single tree, the one directly in front of me. A little lower, said the voice. I moved my eyes down from the tops of the tree toward the thicker area of the trunk, and was that a face in the bark? Bingo! The face most of the tree. The face must be it. The face moved, or its mouth did.

I didn't think that the next time I saw you, I'd be looking at, well, whatever it is that I'm looking at. I tried to place the voice, but I couldn't. It was definitely a man's, but entirely unfamiliar. Do I know you? The tree shrugged, its branches dipping and rising, like it'd been struck with a stiff wind. Ah, not so much. I suspect you know of me, but when you and I met, you weren't at the age to be remembering

much of anything. I took a step toward the tree, glancing cautiously toward Pride Aome. He was still distracted, or perhaps more accurately, he couldn't care less what I was doing. To him, I was a speck, insignificant, non-threatening. I stared at the face in the bark, and it looked like somebody I'd seen in an old photograph. Hang on. Grandpa? Oh, wish I had a prize to give you, Matthew. The two small indentations that resembled eyes widened, and its carved mouth curved into a smile.

I see Gail's little experiment has really taken off. I swallowed. Looking back over the shore, taking in the carnage, Jake's corpse, split open with his crushed heart lying unceremoniously on his chest, Grandma's rotting cadaver, complete with fungus growing over her blackened face, Dad's monstrous body, wheezing for breath in a pool of his blood, and there, hanging in mid-air over the river surrounded by swirling tongues of water, Eric. My brother.

Possessed by an entity from another dimension. Yeah, you could say that. I looked back to the tree. To my grandpa. You died when I was young. Did she do this to you? At my request, yes. Cancer, you know, terrible disease.

And I thought I could do with some more years of looking at this fine River. She placed my soul into the wood itself. His soul was a part of the wood. That sounded like insanity to me. How was something like that even possible? Mixing man and wolf DNA to make a werewolf seemed, at least in some regards, within the bounds of human science. But this? He must have read the confusion on my face. Oh, it's actually a simpler bit of magic. Then what's happened to you, if you're curious? I am, I said. But I don't have time to hear the details.

How long have you been here? He sighed, his branches sloping downward. Two decades. And, to be honest, I've spent most of it sleeping. So much for watching the river, eh? Thernasderasis. Pride A-Ome continued. His voice was rising bit by bit, growing into a crescendo.

I didn't know a damn thing about spells, but I had a hunch more enthusiasm wasn't exactly a good thing. Grandpa, I need to know. Is there anything I can do to stop this? You must have overheard grandma mention the ritual and the offerings. He chuckled. Overheard? I was the one who turned her onto it.

Where do you think she got all her books? I shook my head. What? I was an archaeologist in life, boy. Dug up those dusty old tomes during one of our excavations. Was a real pain getting them home. But after I'd read what was inside of him, there was no way I could leave him be. He paused.

His eyes drifting up to look at Pride, A-home. Like I said. said, I've been asleep for the past two decades. A good sleep, too. Until that bastard blew apart one of my trees. Yeah, that's Eric. I said, that bastard's taken over your grandson's body. So I've gathered.

I need a way to stop this, please. I said, dropping to my knees. I felt hopeless. If I don't, I continued. Then he's going to turn this whole damn world into monsters. Whoa, easy there. Watch your language, Matthew. Grandpa said.

With a sternness, I could hardly believe, given the circumstances. Still, I understand your dilemma. To be honest with you, I never expected it to reach this point. The rituals and spells listed in those books, they seem to get a way to immortality to having a shot at enjoying life beyond our normal lifespan. That's not what it's turned into. Billions of people are gonna die, Grandpa. I need to stop this. I gotta save Eric. Well, then you'll need to burn Pride de Ones corpse. Great. Like I had that line around. I don't have that kind of

At a time, I snarled. I need to do something now. You can do it now, you knit. But you'll need to do it quickly. If he catches wind of you, it ain't going to end well. The tree, Grandpa, shuddered. I should know. I felt what he's capable of. Listen to me. And listen well, Matthew. Up the river, Near Jake's fishing, Doc, is where Pride Ae-Ome's corpse was sealed. Happens to be why we bought this crappy old patch of land so many years ago. Okay, okay, Jake's Doc. Pride A-Ome's corpse is enclosed in a tomb, and that tomb acts as his gateway. If you can pull his corpse free, light it aflame.

You can end this for good. Great. That actually didn't sound terribly impossible by tonight's standards. I'm on it, I said. All right, then get a move on. I'm about ten minutes away from my life's legacy being the damn apocalypse. Right, I nodded. Thank you, Grandpa. I tore across the shore. Jake's dock was about a half mile up the river, but it didn't take me more than a minute to reach.

Once I had, I took one cursory glance back at Pride Aome, making sure he hadn't noticed me. Of course he hadn't. Errogant prick. He kept himself busy chanting, though the sky had begun flickering with snaps of lightning, and the river's current had turned all wonky. It swirled in places, then reversed in other places. Whatever he was doing, it was affecting the planet itself. bottoms up, I muttered.

I stepped off the dock, plunging into the black water. If I'd done this as a human, I'd almost certainly been pulled away by the current and drowned, maybe after bashing my head off a few rocks. Now, though, I could fight the current, force myself deeper into the river. The inky black wasn't a problem for my eyes either. The underwater landscape was painted for me in brush-struck. strokes of reds and yellows, as vibrant as the cabin had been yesterday afternoon. Looking below me though, I noticed the river was a lot deeper than I thought.

Even with my new eyes, I could barely make out the bottom. If I had to guess, I'd say it must have been close to 150 meters, maybe more. The thing was incredible. I'd shredded water, searching for what Grandpa had described. It took me a minute, but I caught sight of it. There. Deep. So damn deep. It was near the center of the channel and mostly buried by sediment and rock, but there was no doubt about it. That was a stone tomb, complete with the same creepy ruin carvings from the summoning circle. I swam toward it, the shifting current pulling me to and

fro. Once I reached the bottom, I positioned myself against a rock with my hands on the tomb's lid. I pushed with everything I had, and the thing barely moved. It must have been a couple of tons, way more than it looked. Maybe the effect of some kind of spell. All right, change of plans. I crouched, leveraging the river's bottom to help me lift the lid. After some struggling, I managed to get the lid up, just enough that I could push it free of the tomb. It thudded to the ground with a little rumble. That was the hard part done with. Now all that was left was snagging Pride Aome's corpse.

I stared into the tomb, looking at a creature. I couldn't comprehend. It resembled nothing I'd ever seen before, with its face all wrong and covered in eyes. On either side of its head were two mouths, each lined with hundreds of teeth. Call me a hypocrite. But even as a lanky vampire, I thought that he looked pretty damn gross. I lifted the freaky corpse from the tomb and pressed off the river floor toward the surface. Now I just needed to light this thing on fire and call it a day.

Something struck me. Hard. My jaw felt like a nearly cum-com. clean of my face. I recoiled, spinning through the water while I lost my grip on Pride A-Oam's body. I shook off the days and stared at the last person in the world I wanted to see down there. Eric. He opened his mouth to a flurry of bubbles. But that was fine, because I could hear his voice in my mind anyway. Diggin for treasure, Matthew. I merely indicated I'd been chained upstream. Interesting for you to have found my corpse so readily.

You're foolish to think you can be rid of me so easily. That body has no heart. It has no weakness. Pain exploded across my stomach, and I looked down to see Pridea Ome's fist buried in my gut. I weased. The last of my air pushed out of my lungs. God, this guy was fast. You've proven more of a liability than I expected.

Take solace, knowing that I will see to your death personally. An execution by a being of my stature is a pleasure few have shared. His hand. My brother's hand. Gripped my neck. I grasped at it, pulled with every ounce of strength I had. The same strength that it managed to move the impossibly heavy slab of stone moments ago. But it was all worthless. Pride A-Ome hardly registered my resistance.

I see it now. Your memories are split open to me. The crude things that they are, he said. He flung me, and my neck snapped as he did. My body launched through the water, up into the air, soaring through the dark of night before landing amidst the trees in a crash of dirt and leaves. I groaned, still alive, but in so much pain. So this is what Jake had gone through. I knew I wasn't dying, but it didn't make the experience any less shitty. Damn space demon, I spat, blood leaking from my mouth, then struggled to my feet. I couldn't move my head at all.

All. Not good. I shifted my entire body sideways so I could see Prideaum wearing my brother and floating above the river, just staring at me. Had he finished his ritual then? Or had I just managed to distract him? Given how pissed he looked. I was betting on the ladder.

So, Prideon laughed, drifting toward me, hovering over the treetops. You've been speaking with your grandfather, haven't you?" Yes, I have, I said. So he really could read my memories? Had it happened when he grabbed my throat. It's something grandkids do from time to time, I said. He recommended you burn my body, was it? Shit.

In light of that, I think I'll give you both a taste of your human depravity. You see, like Jake was a poor example of my vision, so too do you appear, Matthew. And yes, you too, Harold. In fact, it looks like the serum's penchant for sentience has rendered it quite useless in my world to come. Purple ribbons of light began dancing around Prideaum, casting my brother's face in a creepy, ethereal glow. I'll begin from scratch, regretful, perhaps, after all you've done to save this dying world, but necessary. The tree shifted, and I saw my grandfather's face grow in the

trunks of all those surrounding me. His eyebrows bristled, the indentations in the wood gazing up at Pride A-home. Gail was wrong to bring you about. I was wrong to speak any of you to her. The books described you as benevolent, but you're as twisted as any devil. I assure you that you won't suffer your regret for long. He spoke a word in a language I didn't know, and in a flash of red-orange, the treetops were lit ablaze. Branches crackled and snapped overhead, falling to the forest floor in crashes of sparks and cinder.

My grandpa's face, in the tree trunk surrounding me, howled. You destroy the whole wood! That's the wonderful thing about this place, Pridey Homes said. It always grows back. Without the madness of man, I suspect it'll return even more expansive. greener and more full of life than ever before. He descended slowly, drifting through the flame-kissed canopy. You see, he said, touching down on the dirt next to us,

in the world to come, I cannot allow you to whisper your poison into the minds of my children. You must be amputated from this earth, Harold. You really do love listening to your own bullshit, don't you? I said. Pride A-Oam glanced over his shoulder, staring at me for a moment, before striking me in the chest with the back of his hand. I let out a wheeze as my body rocketed backward, branches cutting at me as I cleared the tree line and crumped onto the stone shore. Pain bloomed in my right ankle, and I looked down to see it twisted in the entirely wrong direction. Shit. Vampire or not, that didn't look good.

I tried to stand back up, but only stumbled to the ground. My damn foot couldn't support my weight. I set my jaw, hating my big mouth. There was no way I was getting back to Pride A-Ome's corpse like this. The currents had been enough of a struggle with two working feet. If I tried to dive in now, I'd be at their mercy, and probably end up getting diced apart on some rocks. I needed to do something, though. I wasn't dead yet, and the flames were definitely getting hotter. If I let this drag out, I'd end up a pile of ash or some melted flesh on a

grotesque skeleton. I may not have his corpse, but I did have one other option, and it was close at hand. The dagger. I took a moment to weigh my options before realizing I no longer had any. run it, crawling toward the blade. I'm sorry, Eric. This wasn't the ending either of us wanted. Hell, I hadn't even wanted to come back to this nightmare cabin. But looking back, would it really have made any difference if we hadn't? Like Jake said, he would have just picked up some wayward hitchhikers and dosed them in our place. The world would still be ending. But I wouldn't even get the chance to save it. I reached the blade and gripped the leather hilt, breathing a sigh of relief. No agonizing burning sensations. That was good. I rolled onto my side to get my bearings,

then crawled toward Prideaum, who was still speaking to my grandfather's face in the tree bark. As I neared them, I caught wind of their conversation. I'm sorry, Grandpa said to Prideaum. To every damn person alive, I'm sorry for even looking at those books when I should have burned them and never looked back. I imagine you'll be arriving in the afterlife soon enough. You can tell them yourself. You're a demon. Grandpa's voice broke off as blazing sections of canopy fill from the treetops, crashing to the earth in a flurry of spark and flame.

One damn near fell on top of me, kicking up red-hot cinders and searing my flesh. But I held my tongue, not daring to make a sound while I was so close to Pride Aom. Oh, I'm sorry, Harold, Pride Aum said. You were saying something. Go to hell. Grandpa groaned, flames kicking at his face in the tree trunk. It's all you deserve. Hell is such a human concept, isn't it?

To live in a world so terrible and so full of horror that you'd create a place in your mind even worse, just to feel more comfortable in your suffering. Truly insane. I crawled closer, using his words as a cover for my movements. Well, that in the sky falling. A heavy snap sounded above me, and I froze as a branch smashed into the thicket next to me, exploding into a towering inferno.

Shit, that was close. Too close. The only insanity I see is what's standing in front of me, Grandpa said. You don't belong in this world. Now get out and leave us be. On the contrary. Pride-A-Lam started.

A splash sounded from the river. Then another one. This time absolutely massive. Drops of water sizzled down from the treetops and I paused, now just a few feet away from Pryd-Aelm. The dagger still clutched firmly in my hand. I shifted my body sideways so that I could get a good look at the water. The river wasn't far from us, but it was difficult to make out through the smoke.

Focus, Matt. I'd long since lost the luxury of worrying about splashes. I had to end this now and quickly. For Eric? For all of us? I raised the dagger, lurching another inch closer to Pridea home end. Something crashed through the forest canopy, landing in the blazing thicket next to me with a dull thud. I froze.

My mind racing. In the short span of time I'd seen that thing falling. I was almost certain I recognized it. What I didn't understand was how it got into the air and out of the river. Because that thing was Prydeum's corpse. The cosmic dick didn't waste any time acknowledging it. His face snarled in rage and he dashed toward his now softly smoking corpse. Curcing in a language I didn't know.

or care to know. He didn't so much as look at me as he moved to step by me. I wouldn't have been able to close the distance enough for a kill shot, but I could slow him down. Maybe long enough for his corpse to burn, then I could get Eric out of here. We might both die in a forest fire, but that seemed a good deal better than being a slave to this jackass for the rest of eternity. I swung the dagger, and it caught pride a home unaware. Right through, his calf. He staggered to a knee, letting loose a feral roar. Steam hissed from the wound. In the exact same way it'd done when I'd use the scalpel on Nolan. Good. So Silver could hurt him. He wheeled on me, kicking the dagger free of my hand. You! he growled. I smirked. Happy that his

arrogance, if nothing else, had given me the chance to deliver some kind of pain upon him. He reached down to grab me, but shock painted him, and he fell forward, flat on his face. What the hell? I looked past him. A massive, long tentacle had wrapped itself about his leg and was pulling him away from me. He spun around, kicking free of the appendage and snout snapping it open in a shower of blood. It recoiled, racing back to where it'd come from, racing back to the river. I squinted through the black smoke, and my jaw dropped.

A massive creature rose from the water, surrounded by an army of snapping tentacles. It looked like a sea monster, or some kind of kraken. Was this another of grandma's experiments? If it was, I had no idea they could get this Titanic. Oh, what a lovely surprise, Pride Aung growled, rising to his feet and staring daggers at the creature in the river. More insubordination.

My favorite human flaw. Another tentacle flung out, but he dodged it easily. This time, he placed his hands on it as it passed him. then gripped it with a powerful squeeze, his fingers digging into its flesh. Letting loose a roar, he pulled the tentacle apart, drenching Eric in crimson blood and causing the sea monster to rive in agony. He seized his opening and dashed for his corpse, which now snapped and popped in the roaring flames. Before he could reach it, though, three more tentacles raced out, snatching him in their grasp and pulling him through the woods.

His hands clutched at the dirt helplessly, desperately trying to grab into anything he could. But it was useless. A moment later, the tentacles lifted him up and stole him from the tree line over the river. He dangled there, pulling apart the appendages of the sea creature, but every time he did, two more would take their place. Eventually the monster had him wrapped in ten of them, so much so that Pride A-Ome's shouts of rage had been suffocated entirely. My memories came back to me.

I recalled Jake and Grandma's conversation about Mom, mentioning that she'd gone for a swim, and had one last dose of the serum. They mentioned that during that horrible week, she'd been watching us from the river. Mom? I said weakly. The Kraken squealed as Pride A-Ome continued to tear it, quite literally, limb from limb. I looked around, searching for the dagger in case it came to it, but couldn't see it anywhere. There was so much chaos in the forest now. The blaze and smoke made it impossible to discern much of anything. I looked up.

seeing Grandpa's pained face and the tree bark in front of me. He'll kill my sweet Alice, and then he'll come and pull his corpse free of the flames. He sounded so defeated. The body's already burning. If she can just hold him for a little longer. An anguished scream ran out, followed by several deafening splashes. Through the trees, I saw my mother collapse into the river. either dead or defeated.

Mom, I shouted. You have to stop him, Matthew. I'm unable to affect things as I am. I crawled towards her. Make sure the corpse burns. Grandpa shouted. You can't do anything for her, but you can still make the world right.

Again, I felt the story. strange sensation of wanting to cry, but being unable. I bashed my head on the ground, my body feeling so hot I could barely think. The only thing that offered me any protection from the damn heat was my DNA in old leather jacket, but even that barely covered half of my torso. Prideaume crashed in front of me, landing beside the thicket where his body burned. I'd never seen him look desperate before, but he certainly looked the part now. It may be a little bit. It made sense. He needed to save himself, and he didn't waste any time. He strode right into the flames, kneeling to retrieve his corpse. Thick black smoke billowed from the many-eyed abomination.

It was melting, but slowly. How much longer would it take? It was clearly made of stronger stuff than human flesh. Pridium turned and exited the inferno, and I saw just how much damage he'd suffered. His eyes, once cold and flecked with gold, were now faded, empty things. Steam hissed from them and from every other opening on his face, his mouth, his ears, and even his nose. He was dying. I just had to slow him down, only a little longer. I staggered to my feet, ignoring the anguish of standing on my snapped foot.

He strode past me. so arrogant that he didn't even bother to look my way. I'd change that. I lunged, swiping at him with a set of serrated claws, splitting open Eric's backside in a shower of sizzling blood. That should slow him down some. But he kept walking, unconcerned. The wounds on his backside healed nearly as soon as they'd appeared,

the flesh stitching itself back together as though by magic. Wait! I shouted. I had to get his attention. I had to keep him here in the heat. We were so close now, so damn close. This couldn't end with him just walking away. I said, wait.

Die in the fire, Matthew, Prideaum said, his voice echoing around the wood. He didn't so much as look over his shoulder at me. You're unworthy of death. by my hand. I opened my mouth to goad him again, but I knew it was hopeless. He wasn't as stupid as Jake. Without the dagger, I didn't have a way to stop him.

I needed silver. Prideaum reached a clearing and stopped. Then his feet left the ground, and he began drifting upward. The son of a bitch was just going to fly out of here, leave the rest of us to die. and then turn the world into monsters. And I let it happen. I gave up my humanity to stop this and set things right. And all I managed to do was convince Pride Aeom to start a forest fire.

I had nothing left. I'd lost the dagger. I'd lost the fight. All I had was my old leather jacket and a heart full of regret. Wait. My jacket? I swallowed all my fear, prepared myself for the agony to come, and then launched myself at Prideaum. I soared through the air, my ankle screaming at me, and my heartbeat thundering in my chest.

I reached a hand inside my jacket, and pain exploded across my palm. Tendrils of steam hissed from my fist as I rose my hand into the air, holding the silver scalpel I'd pocketed in the cave. I collided with Pride A-on, catching him by surprise, and buried the scalpel into his back. He unleashed an otherworldly scream as the two of us plummeted back to earth, crashing to the dirt in a cloud of ash and cinder. I moved to reorient myself, but he was faster. He dropped his corpse at his feet and reached for me. His eyes filled with a fury I'd never seen before. and likely would never see again. I recoiled, knowing this was it. I was finished. But his arm never reached me. His hand hovered in mid-air between us, shaking, while his expression

was a mess of confusion and rage. Insubordinate vessel, unhand me. I didn't know what was going on, but I reached down, pulling Pridea-Ome's corpse out from beneath him. He gazed helplessly at me, his whole body shaking as he willed it to respond, but it stayed locked in place. Was that Eric's doing? No time to think on that. With a grunt, I flung the many-eyed bastard back to the blazing thicket, its flames raging, taller and fiercer than before. Friday Ome screamed, and my brother must have lost his hold on him because he stepped toward me. But he stumbled, steam now exploding from his eyes, his mouth, his ears. He roared into the night, his voice no longer the gentle, human thing it once resembled, but now infernal and horrible.

I am. His body fell forward, landing with an unceremonious thud on the forest floor. Silent, unmoving, dead, I said. I gazed down at my hand, where I'd gripped the scalpel. The flesh had melted through to the bone, even in the small second I'd held it. Turns out that silver trick really came in handy. Thanks, Uncle Nolan. I limped over to my brother and tore off a strip from his hoodie, wrapping it around his mouth

and nose. Not much, but it might slow the smoke inhalation some. I wrapped my jacket around him for extra shielding and lifted Eric's comatose body into my arms. I looked back to the river shore, where I knew my father still lay as a massive lumbering troll. I'm sorry, Dad, I said. I couldn't move him. Not like this. There was hope for Eric, though.

His face was ghostly white and his breathing was labored. But he was alive. I needed to get as clear of this smoke and heat as fast as I could. Jake's truck could do the trick. It was nearby tucked into the woods on the side of the road not far from here. And if I could get to it, I had my money that the keys would still be in the ignition. I limped toward the road, through the woods, through the crumbling branches and the heat of the flames. Thank you, Grandpa.

I called, not sure if he could hear me, or if he was even still alive. How much of the trees had to burn down before his soul died with them? Don't thank me, said his voice, though it was strained in hoarse. You did good, son. I could faintly make out his face, materializing on the bark of the trees through the smoke. You make sure you boys get clear of here, and you tell the world what happened. Tell the world, I said, stumbling as I made my way up a hillbank, cutting straight through the wood, meant getting to the truck quicker, but it also meant the terrain was untamed. Why the hell would I want to tell the world?

I said, Well, if my hunch is right, they're gonna be wondering. His face followed me, appearing on the trees as I limped through the wood. Pride, elm. By my guess, didn't finish his ritual, but I'll bet he got at least part way there. Part way there. Are you saying that some people might have turned?

His face crinkled in the bark. That's it, yeah. If there's reports of strangeness or brutality out there, people need to be aware of what it could. His words tapered off, replaced by a long, pained groan. Of what it could mean, kid. Up ahead was Jake's truck. I could make out its bright white through the smoke and smoke.

trees. I'll do that, Grandpa, I said. I turned to him as Eric and I cleared the tree line. Goodbye. Bye, Matthew. I pulled the truck door handle, and it opened. Unlocked, good. That was step one dealt with. I loaded Eric into the passenger seat and shut the door, making my way to the other side. I slid in my lanky vampire body hunched over and compressed, but I couldn't have been happier. The keys were dangling from the ignition. I turned him, and the engine roared to life. The truck shook as a tree keeled over next to us, crashing in a flurry of sparks and flames. Time to go.

I slammed my foot on the gas, and my brother and I tore away from the cabin and the blaze. down the mountain road. One last time. So? I guess that brings us to now. A lot's happened since the drive down the mountain, but I'll try and fill in the blanks for you. By the time we got clear of the blaze,

the forest was swarming with first responders. I got their attention with a few blast of the horn before beating a hasty retreat back into the woods. I'm mostly certain that nobody saw me. I didn't hear any screams, and I still haven't seen any found footage of a lanky vampire slinking into the tree line. So that's good. Grandma's cabin burned to ash, along with most of the mountain. Nobody found any sign of a Sasquatch or troll, or Cracken, for that matter.

But they did find a strange cave with a lot of interesting books, as well as a dead man they've been unable to ID. There's not much in the news about it, but there's word that the fire was caused by an occult ritual gone wrong, which, I mean, is pretty bang on. I headed up there about a month afterward, once the investigation had wrapped up. I spent a few days wandering up and down the river, calling out for Mom. I hadn't been certain Pride Aome had killed her that night, but after the third day of nothing. I accepted that she was gone. I lost her for a second time. I made a small memorial for her and everybody else. It wasn't much, just some twigs strapped together and some rocks piled up,

but it was something to remember my family by. I always thought of them as absentee and aloof, unreliable. I figured that they were all gone or didn't care about my brother and I. But that That night showed me how wrong I was. Our dad had driven a hundred miles to get to the cabin and save our skin. Our mom had been watching over us from the river and did her best to raise Eric while Jake was dosing him with serum. Grandma and Grandpa didn't understand what they were getting into with Pride Home, and once Grandpa had realized, he gave me the information I needed to stop him.

Uncle Nolan. Well, he'd been there from the start since we were boys, trying to warn us and protect us, even while struggling with his own humanity. None of them were perfect, but when the chips were down, they showed up. To me, they're heroes, and I miss them dearly. It's been a couple months now, and I understand that Eric's mostly recovered. Well, as much as he can be. He has trouble walking, and I see him struggle just getting to his car at times, but he seems happy to be alive. I don't know if he knows that I'm alive, or knows what I've become. Sometimes when I check up on him at night, I swear that he looks back at me.

I wonder if he's seen me there in the show. shadows, but he's never said anything, or even really reacted. He just gets back to whatever he was doing. Every now and then, I catch bits of the news through the old newspapers. I guess Eric told investigators that he and I had gone up to pack up our grandmother's things, but that the fire kicked up while I was out for a hike. He couldn't find me, but the blaze got so bad that he had to get himself back down the mountain. He says that he blacked out from smoke inhalation just before the first responders got to him.

Not a bad story, all things considered. The authorities believed it, and nobody's trying to pin him with any arson charges. The blame's fallen instead on the John Doe in the cave. A stranger they found surrounded by candles and ritual books. Even in death, Nolan's looking out for Eric. Actually, these days everybody's looking out for Eric. He's sort of become the de facto poster boy for tragedy in the country. The saddest guy around lost his mother as a kid, that his grandmother, and then when he went

to clear up her effects, lost the rest of his family in a freak forest blaze. I'm sure he hates the attention, but it's better than the apocalypse. As for me, I'm getting used to being a mom. I think Jake must have taken a different serum to turn himself back into a man, because it's been a while now, and I feel like I'm becoming less human as time goes on. My foot sealed, though, and I'm back to leaping buildings in a single bound and racing locomotives. In fact, there's a train that runs through my new patch of woods, about ten miles from where grandma set up shop with her cabin.

There's a lot of game for me to hunt out there, and I mostly stay out of the way of people. Mostly. It's getting harder these days. Deer blood and rabbit blood just doesn't have the same taste that Jake's did. And yes, he might have been a Sasquatch, but his blood was as human as could be. It tasted delicious. On that note, I'll be signing off with this last opportunity. There's some hikers nearby, and they're distracting the hell out of me.

It's tough to focus when I'm near people, you know? It's like I can smell their blood through their skin. Ah, that sounds creepy, but there it is. I'm a vampire. What do you want from me? Seriously, though. I hope they head back down the mountain soon. After all, it's nearly dark.