The Darkness We Hide

GARETH

“I’ve got something,” Louise called, summoning the search party to her side. When they were all assembled she looked at her oldest son.

“Gareth is this him?” she asked, pointing to a series of footprints in mud.

Dropping down, he inhaled deeply taking in every scent he could. He found loam, mold, mildew and under all of that the stench that was Richard.

“Yes,” he said, sniffing again. “I can smell Michelle too, but something is off. Her scent is wrong…. Sickly.”

“These tracks can’t be more than a few hours old,” Hugo said, kneeling beside his son and testing the ground. “So we know she’s still alive.”

“Or she was,” Gareth added pessimistically, the hope he’d been nursing the last two weeks finally giving way to reality. After so many days and hours of searching this was the first time he’d caught a hint of Michelle, and she was sick.

“Alright,” Louise said, pulling off her jacket, attempting to change the direction Gareth’s mind was taking, “we are hunting a rogue. He’s possibly unhinged and if he’s planning on turning Michelle, it’s tonight. The moon reaches its zenith in two hours, so we don’t have a lot of time to find where he’s keeping her.”

“Our goal,” Hugo continued for her, “is to stop him from committing this violation and save this young woman. Everyone fan out. If you find him, sound the call and we will join you. Do not, under any circumstances, try to take him down alone, he’s already proven that he’s not above using violence.”

“Let’s move,” Gareth said lastly, shifting to the wolf in the blink of an eye, before disappearing into the tree line.

“Keep an eye on him,” Louise said to her husband and sons. “If this goes badly, he’s not going to take it well.”

Nodding their assent, her family followed suit, each taking their own path into the forest searching for any sign or scent of Richard or Michelle.

Hugo, the most experienced tracker of the pack soon found the trail they were looking for, and summoning his family, led the way into the darkness. The going was slow and treacherous, the lack of moonlight through the thick canopy hampering their progress.

Richard had chosen a well protected place to hide, deep in the national forest with no access from roads and thirty miles of undisturbed woods on all sides. As they neared what could only be described as a shack, they fanned out, making sure there was no way Richard could escape.

Edging closer and closer, Gareth could smell more of Michelle, and he’d been right, she was sick. He could smell not only blood, but infection as well.

MICHELLE

Through the induced haze between life and death, Michelle was vaguely aware of the terrible crashing sounds, followed by snarling and growling that was going on around her. The knife was taken from beside her head and soon the pressure of the straps on her arms and legs was gone.

“You’re too late,” she could hear Richard screaming somewhere off in the distance. “My blood is in her! She’s mine!”

Still unable to focus on anything, Michelle barely understood what was said around her.

“He’s right,” Louise called, looking into each of Michelle’s eyes with a flashlight. “He’s begun the change!!”

“Damn you,” Gareth screamed, cradling Michelle to his chest. “She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to change!!”

“Gareth,” Louise said sternly. “This is going to happen no matter what. We only have two choices now. Either we let her change and be Richard’s progeny, or we do our damnedest to fix this and make her yours!”

“Mom,” he sobbed. “I can’t. She never wanted this.”

“There’s no choice, Gareth,” the voice said firmly. “It’s already begun, we can’t stop it.”

“Michelle,” Gareth begged, gently touching her face. “Michelle, please forgive me!!”

Laying her back down, he went to the workbench and began to mix herbs and chant, but not in the same language as Richard.

She was too far gone to feel the second set of cuts made on her body. Through the fog surrounding her mind, she felt herself being lifted again, and struggled feebly to escape the bowl. She would not drink Richard’s blood, not again.

“No,” she choked, trying to turn away. “No more Richard, please.”

“Michelle, my love,” Gareth begged, fumbling the bowl in his hand. “Michelle, you have to drink this.”

When she struggled against the bowl again, Gareth urged, “Please, drink my love, I can’t live without you.”

With the last of her conscious will, Michelle heard Gareth and drank.