Chapter 6
Camille
She doesn’t remember when she started screaming, but it happened. Her vocal cords stretched out into the woods. The monsters snarled, taking giant steps forward in their direction.
“Hey! Get away from them!” Antoine’s voice pierced through the air. Over the right shoulder of the beasts, Camille saw Antoine grab a log from the ground and throw it at the creatures. Baring their teeth, they immediately leaped at him, all three– at the same time.
Daymond grabbed her arm tightly, forcing her to move. “We need to go now!”
But before they could even think about it, the black wolf-man, the largest of them all, leaped between them, landing on Daymond. He screamed in agony, blood already pouring from his neck. Camille looked helpless, unable to think or breathe. Looking to her right, she searched for Bernard. He was already on the ground, blood filled his gums, and he had a bite on his shoulder.
Antonie’s shrill yells of “No, no, no!” clouded Camille’s thoughts. Suddenly, a white wolf-man sauntered over to her, eyes still golden, with a speck of blood at the corner of its mouth. It smirked at her, taking its time to torture her in fear. Before Camille could even blink, it lept, howling in her face before burying its teeth near her neck. Camille bravely blocked it with her arm, but the damage was done.
She had one single bite imprint the size of a softball on her forearm. Copper was flowing down to her elbow and began to sting everywhere and nowhere at once.
Looking up at the stars, she saw herself in them, and when she squinted, Antoine, Daymond, and Bernard were with her, too. But they looked different – their silhouettes strong and sturdy, ready to battle. The howls she heard that night echoed in her brain. Loud and clear, she finally rested her eyes on the sounds of the crickets lulling her to a deep slumber.

Bernard
Bernard was the first to wake up. Crows were cawing near his wounds, and if he hadn’t woken any sooner, they probably would have started pecking on his flesh. Kicking his feet, the birds flew off into the sunrise. His throat was dry. Bernard tried to speak, but all he could was croak. It felt like sawdust scratching on his tongue.
He finally looked around his surroundings. Three bodies lay motionless in place of his siblings. Blood stained their shoulders, arms, necks, and anything visible to the skin and covered in mud. What the hell happened? How are we alive? Are they alive? Am I even alive? Crawling over to his right, he saw Antoine’s body first. It was the bloodiest. Covering his mouth with his palm, he began to shriek. Antoine’s entire sweater was soaked with blood.
Crawling to the other two, he began to panic—out of shock and fear, he didn’t know what to do. He was frozen. So much had happened in a short amount of time, and he was afraid to breathe as it may ruin something in the atmosphere. He sat against a tree stump, waiting for anyone else to wake up for what felt like an eternity.
Until Camille woke up screaming at the top of her lungs. She clutched at her arm.
Daymond was only a few seconds behind, his head leaning forward.
“What happened?” Camille was the first to speak.
“I think we are dead,” Bernard answered.
“That’s not funny,” Camille responded.
“I never claimed to be.”
The three gathered around Antoine’s body. It lay motionless — dried blood up and down his arms and shoulders.
“He might be,” Daymond sighed, reaching out to push Antoine’s body.
“Stop, leave him alone.” Camille was again squabbling with Daymond, much to Bernard’s annoyance.
“I’m just checking if he’s still breathing, is all.”
“That’s not how you do it.” Bernard pushed past him and reached out with two fingers toward his neck.
There was no pulse. Bernard stared at nothing and shook his head. Camille and Daymond’s faces grew solemn. But as if lightning struck, Antonie’s eyes shot open – with violet irises, making the three jump back.
Daymond
Antoine began to heave, coughing hysterically. Camille went by his side and began to pat his back. He flinched away from her, throwing his hand in her face. Daymond ground his teeth. Antione had some nerve.
He couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You left us to die.”
“No, he didn’t. He was just scared. He came back for us. That’s all that should matter.” Camille began rubbing his back soothingly. “Because he cares. Even when he pretends like he doesn’t.”
Antonie shrugged her off him and tried to stand up, but gravity was not his friend.
“Slow down,” Bernard said.
“What the hell happened?”
For the first time, that question really settled into the air. The stillness of it all.
Camille spoke first. “We need to find Dad.”
“No, I think we need to go to the road and get someone down here,” Bernard said.
“We need him. He’s going to know everything. And what are we going to say to the police? We got bit by werewolves, and yet we’re somehow still alive? They’ll put us in a psych ward.”
For the first time, Daymond checked his body. His wounds from the night before were completely gone. It was unexplainable.
“There has to be a logical explanation to all of this.” Bernard insisted.
“No, there isn’t,” Antoine finally said. “Camille’s right. We need Robert.”
“Wow, you actually agree with me?” She smiled triumphantly.
“Yeah, because the other time you almost got us killed,” sarcasm oozed from Antonie’s lips.
“What? That’s not true.”
“Actually, you are right once again. It was your idiot brother.” He turned his attention fully to Daymond, who was absently picking at grass at the moment.
Daymond furrowed his brows. “How the hell is this my fault?”
“You were the one that threw a chair into the window, dumbass.”
“Screw you! You are the one that ran away.”
“Because that’s the safest thing to do when you’re in a room with a lunatic.”
“At least I’m not a coward!”