Drowning.

IT WAS SILENT IN THE HOUSE, like it was every night. Only this time her mother was with her. Her mother had been given the night off due to the slow night. Florence had been relieved to not have to spend another night alone; her fear had been on quite the edge since news of the murder. Every night, she had to sleep with a knife under her pillow.

But tonight, her mother was here for the first time in a long time. She could protect her, care for her, nurture her. There was no need for fear tonight. At least, that’s what was expected.

Unfortunately, Florence’s nerves were not cooperating with her thought, and she felt even more on edge than before.

What if he gets my mom?

What if she’s next?

All night, her mother watched as she checked the windows and doors for him, her tired mind not thinking much of it.

But Florence knew she’d suspect something soon, it was only a matter of time till she does something different and her mother will know. And once she knows, she’ll leave her; nobody wants a broken glass doll of a daughter.

But she couldn’t stop. She knew she was going to give herself away if she kept checking, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t let herself stop. What if she stopped and he’d come? She’d be the reason her mother’s ruined.

“You were watching a scary movie before I got home, weren’t you?” her mother asked, a sly, tired smirk resting on her lips. Her eyes were circled in black, all the night shifts catching up to her. Her hair was thin and breaking, grays lining her roots.

Florence nodded, biting her lips as she continued checking the kitchen window for any signs of movement. Her mother shook her head, making her way to the living room and sitting on the couch.

“I don’t know why you always insist on watching those, you always end up scaring yourself half to death.” Her mother waved her over, patting the seat next to her.

“Why don’t you come hear and spend time with your mother, I hardly ever get to see you.”

Florence nodded again, taking one last glance outside before making her way slowly towards her mother. She continued to chew on her lower lip, her nerves now building. Her mother wrapped her arms around her, letting Florence feel safe after many months of insecurity. Her once rapping heart slowed to a steady beat; her mind silenced their torturous thoughts, letting Florence enjoy the moment.

It was nice, not thinking at all. No more thoughts scaring her to death, no more painful memories of the past, no more illusions of him. It was heaven sent and Florence wondered if this was what death felt like. Was it as serene as when her mother held her? Did all thoughts flee? Will peace fall over her?

These thoughts scared her. She never once thought she’d ever come to the point where she thought taking her own life would be appealing. But they did. Would she be able to stop these thoughts when she was at her worst?

It scared her how easily they slipped into her mind. How easily they persuaded her to take the knife and cut; drink the bottle whole; tighten the noose.

Her mother caressed her hair, silencing these thoughts once again. Her mind remained blank. She was able to sleep without any dreams, any nightmares.

The slumber was cut short by the shuffling outside the house, causing Florence to jump up and clutch the nearest thing. The muffled growl caused her to scream. Her mother was dead to the world, not even the scream of her daughter could wake her now; the continuous sleepless nights finally catching up.

A dark figure with glowing gold eyes stood in front of the window next to the television. As it lurked forward towards her, Florence prayed. Her mind was reeling at the sight. The monster had finally found her.

She began to feel lightheaded and as her eyes began to close, a familiar figure passed the window, taking the monster with it. His face flashed to hear for a second before disappearing as if he were never there.

Isaac Lahey.



ISAAC COULD FEEL THE ADRENALINE PUMPING THROUGH HIS VEINS. It made his heart beat faster, his flesh heat up, and his muscles to strength. The trees flew by him as he ran to his destination. He knew where Boyd was off too. He could feel it in his bones, and he knew he had to stop it.

No harm will come to Florence, never again.

He still didn’t know what happened to her, but he knew for a fact that she could not handle finding out werewolves existed at this time. She couldn’t even handle him right now.

He breathed in, taking in the smell around him. He was getting closer; hopefully he wouldn’t be too late. He couldn’t be late. He wouldn’t let himself.

Isaac watched as Boyd drew closer to the house of the poor damaged girl, his steps a mile a minute until he reached the bushes. Boyd began to slow his step, watching his prey like a wolf.

Isaac growled, his pace picking up speed like never before. His claws extended and his fangs grew, ready for attack. Boyd’s figure became bigger and bigger as Isaac became closer. He leaped, tackling Boyd, claws at his neck.

“You will not touch her,” he sneered, claws digging deeper into Boyd’s neck with passing second. Isaac looked into the window, fingers still clasped around his friend’s neck. He needed to make sure Florence was fine. Her eyes met his before her body dropped onto her mother.

Boyd noticed Isaac’s distraction, clawing his bicep and fleeing into the woods as Isaac fell to the floor. Another menacing growl left his lips, and with one last look into Florence’s window, he followed Boyd.