Verona Rose

I was never alone before, but I was after.

Vienna and I were inseparable, but what twins weren’t? We had been together since we came into existence, and I used to think we would go “out of existence” together. But everything changed for me that night, the night of Vien’s death and my bloody rebirth.

We were camping. Vienna had convinced me to do it; I hadn’t wanted to.

“C’mon, Verone,” She said. We both had nicknames for each other, though they were really just our names with the last syllable shaved off. They were silly things that only we used for each other.

“It’s our last weekend before junior year!” Vien went on, leaning forward with bright, bright eyes. We were identical, but everything was brighter on Vienna. She wore all of our features better than I did. People thought twins were all equally beautiful or ugly, but they were wrong. Even twins have a more beautiful one.

“Exactly. So we should stay home and relax, enjoy our last days of summer.” I laughed. It was a losing battle, though, and I knew it. So did Vienna. She grasped my arms and pulled me to my feet, swinging me around the room we shared.

“It’ll be fun, I swear, Verona!” She’d promised as we laughed around the room. I wish she was right, but she wasn’t.

“Fine, God, we’ll go fucking camping!” I relented, much to Vienna’s amusement and my own chagrin.

Our parents drove us out to some far out camping grounds. I’d never heard of it before but now can’t get it out of my head; Moonlight Creek. Vienna was stupidly excited. She was spontaneous and loved the idea of going camping. I just knew that I was going to miss air-conditioning.

Mom and Dad left after we found our spot. Vienna and I begged them to stay at least to help us with the tent, but they shook their heads and smiled, amused by the image of their two sixteen year old daughters struggling to put up a tent. They just made sure our phones were charged and waved goodbye. They trusted us too much.

Everything was fine, then, until the moon came up. I was actually having fun, and had a stitch in my side from laughing so much. School and the real world was the farthest thing from my mind as we roasted marshmallows over a wilder-than-we-meant bonfire, nearly burning our damned eyebrows off as we laughed next to the open flames. I wasn’t even slightly unnerved by the quiet around us. I could only hear our laughter, and thought of nothing else.

It was among the best nights I’d ever had with my sister.

It was when the moon had fully risen that things turned into a nightmare.

“Hey, look,” Vienna had said, nearly the last words she would ever say to me. We were lying on our backs, staring up at the stars. They had been fiercely beautiful that night, burning bright and white and marvelous. The moon was beside it, hanging in the sky so perfectly, gorgeous silver moonlight kissing our skin.

“It’s a full moon. Freaky, yeah?” She asked, nudging my shoulder with a laugh. I chuckled.

“Oooh, spooky. Think the werewolves’ll get—” But I never finished, because Vienna screamed. I was going to ask, but then I didn’t need to. Howling. Howling and roaring and shrieking lit up the night, yellow eyes—big, huge yellow eyes with slit pupils and a hunger for blood—were suddenly all around us.

I didn’t make the conscious decision to scream, didn’t even know I was screaming until it was all over and my throat was raw for days.

“Vienna! Vien, wha—” I screeched, my words cut off by some wild, ferocious, all-consuming pain in my left shoulder, a blinding agony as razor-sharp teeth tore my skin and muscles and bones to bloody bits. My vision flashed white and my heart stopped for a moment. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, smell, or think for the pain. Whatever was holding me lifted me from my feet with incredible strength, their jaw tightening until I couldn’t even scream any longer for the agony. And then the monster tossed me, so I flew through the flames and suddenly everything was burning as I spun through the air at sickening speeds, my skin shriveling and popping where the fire touched it.

And then I fell with a splash into the creek—Moonlight Creek, I’d thought, deliriously—dousing the flames but not the burns, rushing into the wound on my shoulder so it stung and yelled, the dirt and sharp pebbles beneath me breaking my skin, drawing blood, draining my life force so, even without my vision, I knew the water was running red. I’d hit my head against the rocky creek bed, and it was pounding, pounding, pounding.

Vienna. Where is Vienna?

“Vienna!” I screamed—or maybe I only managed to wheeze it—desperate. My shoulder was now the one on fire, even though icy water was kissing my skin. Whatever had given me the ferocious bite was now circling me, growling with such menace that I shivered and whimpered. My blurred vision managed to make out only a silhouette, a monstrous black shape that looked like my nightmares’ incarnate.

And yet, I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was afraid of losing my sister.

“Verona! NOO!” My heart leapt when I heard Vienna’s familiar voice. My sight was flashing, though, and I was so weak, too weak with pain and blood loss to do anything but slowly pull myself to all fours. The monster was still circling, and I could almost swear it was cackling. Hot blood was streaming down my arms, the stench making me sick to my stomach.

“Verona! Verona, I’m com—“ But my sister’s words were cut off by a piercing shriek, a long keening wail that meant agony and hopelessness and death.

I cried out, in pain and in despair, because how could someone live after uttering that sound?

I wanted to scream, but the blood loss was catching up to me. My head was pounding and my heart was thumping,
slower,
slower,
slower, until
Black.

I didn’t wake up until 2 weeks later.