My eyes open. The light stings them, and I blink rapidly to adjust to the brightness. I'm not dead. Daylight. It's actually day now. I'm still in the cabin. I know exactly where I am. That crazy man from last night, where the hell is he? I'm lying on my back on the floor and as I look down at my body, I realize I'm completely naked. Where's my dress? My underwear? He undressed me? I feel a spark of panic. I can't feel if I've been violated. Maybe I haven't. Yet.
I look around. Now that it isn't dark, I can see everything clearly. There's no furniture in here. It's just dusty and the door's wide open. I can see the trees outside and I can hear the birds outside. There's not a single cloud in the sky. It's Saturday and it's a beautiful day. Garrett would take me to the park, and maybe we'd have a picnic, or maybe he'd take me out to lunch. He knows I love Chinese food. Then we'd get ice-cream and stroll around the city hand-in-hand. I love the way my hand fits right in his. We would get home late in the evening, and we'd make love in our bed. Oh, Garrett. What's going through his head right now? Imagining him in despair is crushing and devastating. I keep expecting him to barge in here to save me, but I know that isn't going to happen. He doesn't know where I am. That guy made sure of it when he smashed my phone with his hand. He wanted to make sure no one would find out. I don't know what he intends to do with me, but whatever his intentions are, they're not good. I'm not dead yet, but I might be soon.
There's no one in here. I'm all alone. I try to move, but I can't. I try again. I can't turn to my side. I can't feel my legs at all. Or move them. Or wiggle my toes. I try to move my arms. I concentrate really hard. I can't. I just can't do it. It's the strangest, most horrifying feeling ever. I can't move or feel my body. I'm paralyzed.
"Mia."
I look at the door. My heart starts beating fast again. I feel a prickle of fear. He's standing next to the door, dressed, and staring at me. He looks different in the daylight. He's clean, the blood's gone. This isn't a dream. Last night was too real to be a dream. I don't think I'll ever forget what happened last night, even if I do make it out of here by some miracle or divine intervention. He inches closer to me. He's in a plain shirt and jeans. I try to speak, but I can't. I screw my eyes shut and concentrate. This can't be happening to me. My head is spinning. My tongue is heavy. My mouth is dry and there's a bitter taste in my mouth. Bile, maybe. Or vomit. What has he done to me?
"You're awake. You shouldn't be awake."
There's urgency in his tone. He sounds panicked, but I'm not too sure why. Am I supposed to be dead, is that what he means?
I lick my lips. They're cracked and it stings when I lick them. I try to talk, but it comes out incomprehensible. I try again. "I can't feel my body."
He looks down. "I know."
"What did you do to me?" I'm strangely calm. I can't shake off the feeling of last night, of dying.
"I bit you."
He said that last night, too. I'm sure of it. I try to touch my neck, but I can't move my arm. I remember feeling two small holes and blood pouring down my neck. That wasn't a bite. "You're lying."
"I'm not." He gets closer to me. I can see his face clearly now. He looks different from last night. It's the same face, only this face is more refined somehow. "I bit you."
"Those weren't teeth marks. I felt them. Those were punctures."
"Yes. From these." He flashes his teeth and I see his canines. I didn't know normal people had such sharp and elongated canines. They're like fangs. He stares at me again. His eyes are unnaturally green. It's like he can see right through me. Like he can smell my fear.
My voice is small. I want to cry. "What have you done to your teeth?"
"I was born this way." He takes a seat next to me on the floor. I can't move away from him. His eyes trail down my body. He places his hand on my thigh and squeezes. I can see him do this, but I can't feel a thing. "It's starting."
"What's starting? And where are my clothes? Why'd you undress me?" He wipes his hand on his shirt after sniffing it. He looks contemplative. He's deciding whether to tell me or not. It's so frustrating. Don't I have the right to know what will happen to me? Why does he have to keep it a secret?
"The process has started already. You'll be gone in a day. Maybe tonight." He says this so calmly, I don't say a thing for a full minute. Gone? Does he mean dead? I'll be dead by tomorrow? Is this what he just said?
"Gone? So you're going to kill me? I'm going to die?" My voice is firm, despite the panic ensuing within me. I can't even clench my hand. He runs a hand through his hair. He's so calm, it's infuriating. If I could move, I'd scratch his face and tear his hair out of his scalp. I'd kill him.
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean 'not exactly'? Am I going to die or am I not? Why have you brought me here? What do you want from me? Answer me once and for all. I want full, straight answers. I have the right to know." My throat is too sore to shout. It feels raw and I taste some blood in my mouth.
He rubs his chin and looks at me with those eyes. Those green eyes that are otherworldly. What has he done to me? Why can't I move? I close my eyes and grit my teeth. I'm sure one of my molars crack, but I'm not concerned about that right now. "Answer me."
"I'll show you."
He shifts away from me and I turn to look at him. Tears are blurring my vision, but I blink them away. What is it he wants to show me? Why can't he just say it? He looks down and grunts. That sound again, of snapping bones.
It's coming from him. His spine curves and hair starts sprouting out of his pores. Thick, black hair. Like the hair on his head. Like fur. His clothes tear to shreds. His face elongates, and the sight is so hideous I close my eyes. When I open them, there's a beast staring back at me. He's the beast. He turned into a monster. Oh my God. The eyes. These are the eyes I saw last night. There wasn't a dog. It was him. Or it. His hands and feet are paws now. He looks like a wolf, but not quite.
Bigger.
"Werewolf?" It's real. It's all fucking real. It's not a myth or a story. It's real. This man just turned into this wolf thing right before my eyes. He moves closer and I scream. "Get away from me!" He nears me despite my protests and starts sniffing my naked body. I can't even recoil. I can't do a thing to stop him.
He, or it, starts licking my skin. I can't feel a thing. It's so frustrating I scream, and he steps away and I hear his bones snap. He's back to normal. Naked. So this is what happened when I hit him with my car? He turned into a person after I hit him? I feel his hands on my face. He's wiping my tears away. I turn my head the other way. "Don't."
He sits next to me, naked, and won't take his eyes off me. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't look his way. I cry silent tears. Am I ever going to go home? Am I ever going to see Garrett again? Is he looking for me now? I don't even know what time it is. Will someone find my car in the road and alert the police? Maybe there's a way out. Maybe someone will come for me and get me away from this monster.
"Are you going to eat me?" I ask, because I have to know. He just turned into a carnivorous creature right in front of me. He's been smelling me this whole time. Maybe I'm just prey to him. Oh, God.
"No." He chuckles. He's laughing at me right now. There's nothing remotely hilarious about this situation. I turn to look at him. He's running his fingers through my hair, affectionately, the way Garrett does sometimes after we've had sex. He has no right to do this. I don't even know him.
"What, then?" I ask. "What's all of this for?"
All of a sudden this rancid smell invades my nostrils and I gag. It's awful and putrid. It smells like something dead. Garrett found a dead mouse in the basement once. This is how it smells like. He doesn't stop stroking my hair. He doesn't react to the smell. I cough and again, there's this taste of blood in my mouth.
I think I eventually fell asleep or I fainted, because I open my eyes and it's dark. I can hear him walking around the cabin. Just pacing up and down. I open my mouth and a whimper slips out. Something is wrong. There's something bubbling under my skin, threatening to burst out. I don't feel any pain, just the sensation.
He looks my way and sees my eyes open.
"Mia," he says. His voice is so low I can barely hear him. "It's starting now. Just close your eyes. It'll be over soon."
I think I'm sweating. I look down at my body, but I can't see a thing. I still can't move. But something feels...weird. I'm trembling, but I can't feel the floor and I can't feel pain or discomfort. Something inside me cracks and I taste blood in my mouth. I turn my head to the side and blood pours out of my mouth. I'm horrified. "What's happening?"
"It'll be over soon." He sounds anguished. Scared, even. "Just close your eyes and go back to sleep."
I can't. I can't ignore this feeling, this awful sensation. It's like I'm floating. The rotten smell from earlier is stronger now. More blood pools in my mouth. I spit it out. He's at my side now. I turn and I see my hand in his. Suddenly, my lungs are on fire. I can't breathe. It's like I'm being choked. My neck is about to snap in two. "Let go. Don't fight it."
He's kneeling beside me. This goes on forever. If this is what dying is, it's terrible. Frightening. It's the worst feeling in the world. I remember almost drowning in the pool when I was eight. Not being able to breathe and choking on chlorinated water. It was so traumatizing, I haven't stepped foot in a pool ever since and I can't stand the sight of any large body of water. This feels like it. I'm choking on more blood. Everything burns.
There's this pain in my chest that's excruciating. My body's alive in the worst way possible. I couldn't feel a thing before and now, I feel it all. Every kind of pain imaginable. I can't fight it much longer. I let go.
The last thing I see are his eyes, bright green in the dark. He holds his hand above my face. Something warm pours into my mouth.
I close my eyes.