Dark Side of the Moon

“Where the hell have you been, Mason Bridget Mayfield?” My father demanded the second I walked through the door.

Darkness had fallen when I awoke in the forest. I didn’t remember blacking out or when the wolf (if that was even what it was) had disappeared. I felt shaky and nauseas as I walked home in a daze.

The next thing I knew, my dad was sitting me down in the living room. His initial anger receded to fatherly concern.

“Sweetheart,” He tried rubbing some dry blood off my cheek, “Are you okay?”

I frowned and licked my cracked lips, tasting tangy, metallic blood. I shook my head.

“Mase, Mason.” He pushed away my hair from my sweaty forehead. “Sweetheart, what happened?” I just locked into his gaze with a blank stare. I couldn’t control my shaking hands. I wanted to answer my father; I just couldn’t remember what had even happened.

I watched my father call someone on his cell but instead of his voice I just heard a buzzing noise ringing in my ears. My father handed me a glass of water, forcing me to drink some, and a few minutes later Sheriff Stilinski and Stiles entered our living room. The sheriff took a seat next to me on our red, velvety couch.

Setting a hand on my shoulder he said in his kind voice, “Mason, I’m going to need you to tell me what happened.”



I told the sheriff part of what I remembered. I didn’t tell him the whole story, partly because I wasn’t sure if I was completely sane, and partly because I still was unsure what had happened to me.

I informed Sheriff Stilinski that I was attacked by some sort of animal but I couldn’t honestly tell him what happened after that. He and my father went to talk in the kitchen in hushed tones afterwards.

“Come outside with me.” Stiles said softly, taking my hand as he dragged me to my front porch. He sat me down next to him on our old, rickety porch swing.

“What happened, Mase?” He begged for the truth.

“I was attacked by something.” I answered shortly.

“By a wolf?”

“I think so.” I sighed, leaning back as I rocked the swing slightly. “I just don’t know.” I felt so overwhelmed. Two days ago I would have loved for something like this to happen, now I just wanted to go to bed and forget all about it.

“The same one from last night.” It was more of statement than a question but I nodded anyway. I don’t know how I knew it was the same one but I did.

“It was huge,” I remembered slowly, “And…it smelled me.”

“It what?” He asked incredulously.

“It pinned me down, stared at me, and then took a big whiff.” I recalled foggily.

Stiles gazed at me. His brown eyes were swimming. He ran a hand over his buzz cut. “You shouldn’t have run off like that. If you had let me take you home this wouldn’t have happened.”

I groaned inwardly, hoping to avoid this confrontation. I didn’t want to talk about why I left without him because that would involve discussing why I had been so angry with him and I didn’t have an honest answer to that either.

I wasn’t used to not having all the answers.

“Why did you leave?” He asked. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I wanted some fresh air.” I lied, “Didn’t Scott tell you that?”

“Scott said you were angry and that you were lying,” He stated, “Just like you’re lying to me now.”

“I don’t know why I did it.” I snapped, “Am I still lying?”

He didn’t answer. I took in a deep breath to calm myself. Stiles was just trying to help.

“I’m sorry.” I murmured looking out into the darkness. Stiles wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a suffocating embrace.

“I was terrified when my dad said you’d been attacked in the forest, especially considering what happened….” He trailed off, sniffing suddenly. I hugged him back tightly.

“I’m fine, Stiles.” I released his hold to smile at him, “Just a couple scrapes. No big deal.”

He chuckled softly and then replied, “You could be bleeding out and still telling me it was no big deal.”

“I’m a tough girl. I can take care of my—”

“Promise me you won’t run off like that again. I don’t care how mad you are at me, please don’t do it again.” He cut across me, letting out a shaky laugh as I nodded earnestly. My cheeks were heating up at the uncomfortable intensity of his gaze.

“So, how were lacrosse tryouts?” I changed the subject abruptly, feeling anxious about where this conversation was going.

“I sat on the bench, per usual.” He leaned back, relaxing for the first time since he’d arrived. “Scott was amazing, though.” His tone sounded more accusatory than impressed.

“It was probably his positive attitude.” I commented lightly.

“I don’t know….” He stared out at the landscape in concentration.

“Okay, what’s wrong with Scott doing well at lacrosse? He’s your best friend, you should be happy for—”

He cut me off again, “Have you noticed that Scott didn’t use his inhaler once today?”

I shot Stiles an inquisitive look before answering. “Uh—I don’t know. I didn’t follow him around all day like his shadow.”

“Well, he didn’t. Not even at tryouts.” He continued, not really even listening to me.

“Maybe he’s he grown out of it.” I suggested.

“I don’t think you can grow out of asthma.” He argued.

“I’m ‘like, pre-med’.” I quoted. “I think I would know.”

“Well, then, Dr. Mayfield,” He mocked, “Can you grow out of asthma?”

I shrugged, “Fuck if I know.”

Next to me, Stiles chuckled, “Language, missy.”

“Fuck you, Rupert.” I stuck my tongue out in retaliation. He glared at the use of his real name but went on with his thought process.

“He even went up and talked to the new Allison girl.” He continued.

“Really?” This shocked me more than his lack of inhaler usage.

“Yeah,” He guffawed, “I almost didn’t believe it but he called and told me he’s going to the party on Friday with her.”

“Wow.” I nodded, commending Scott’s ability to come out of his shell.

“Yeah,” Stiles replied, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“You going to the party?” I asked, yawning in the process.

“Probably.” He grunted. “You?”

“Probably not,” I said, “I’ll have to see if I don’t get murdered by some crazed wolf this week.” Stiles sent me a look that clearly stated he found no humor in my comment, but before he could retort his dad and mine came outside to tell us Stiles had to go home, and I to bed.

“Night,” I called after Stiles’ retreating figure. He waved in response before hopping in his dad’s police cruiser.

“Try not to take anymore short cuts into the forest alone anymore,” Sheriff Stilinski joked mildly.

“I’ll try,” I smiled, “No promises.”

He chortled and patted me on the back.

“G’ night, Mayor Mayfield.” Sheriff Stilinski tipped his hat to my father and stepped off our porch.

“Thank you for your time, Sheriff.” My father grinned appreciatively.

“Just doing my job, Richard. This is the second animal attack in less than two days,” He announced, “We will be looking into this, the circumstances is too suspicious to ignore.”

“Thank you again.” My father shut the door as the sheriff trotted off to his car. “You should get to bed. You’ve got an eventful day of school tomorrow.”

“I don’t think tomorrow could possible top what happened today.” I smiled lightly. My father, however, did not crack a smile.

“I don’t want you wandering the forest again. I don’t care if the boys are with you.” Mayor Mayfield commanded, “Stay out of the reserve, Mason, and that’s an order.”

I wasn’t some bumbling intern at the office to order around. I was his daughter and I resented being dismissed; however, in my exhaustive state I didn’t feel like arguing.

“Good night, Sweetheart.” He finished his reprimand.

Without another word, I obediently went up to bed and fell asleep immediately.

A humanoid wolf chased me throughout my dreams.