The Calling
The wind howled outside the rustic cabin, sending shivers through the wooden walls. Lucas stared at the door, heart racing as the sounds of the night echoed ominously around them. The crunch of snow beneath heavy paws and the low, predatory snarls of the grey wolves outside rattled his nerves. He quickly placed a heavy board against the door, securing it tight.
"What are you thinking, Em?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and urgency. "You know, they want to kill you.
Emily's eyes darted around the dimly lit cabin, her mind reeling. "I know," she said, her tone softer than his as if the shadows inside the cabin held secrets, she could almost grasp. "But they were saying something to me, Lucas. It wasn’t bad... they didn’t want to harm me."
Lucas's frown deepened as he leaned closer, desperation creeping into his voice. "What are you talking about? I didn’t hear anything but snarls. Those sounds...they’re dangerous!” Ignoring him, Emily moved across the cabin towards a lonely candle resting on the table. She struck a match, watching it flicker and glow before carefully leaning it towards the wick. The flame caught, casting a warm, soft yellow light that danced across the rough wooden walls. Lucas turned his attention to the fireplace, kneeling to kindle the embers into a roaring fire. A comfortable warmth began to fill the room, but it did little to chase away the chill that had settled in Emily’s heart. She crumpled into an old, rugged chair, frustration pouring from her like a river too long dammed. With her hands tangled in her hair, she mumbled, “You just don’t understand Lucas.”
He stepped closer, uncertainty lining his brow. “What is there to understand? They want to kill you.” Lucas says persistently Silence enveloped them for a moment as he stood behind her, reaching out to place his hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, my love. I just worry about you and the baby.” Lucas utters softly at the mention of the baby, Emily raises her trembling hand to cover his, their skin connecting softly. “I know,” she replied, pain etched on her features. The overwhelming hunger twisted inside her, but she couldn’t admit it, the sounds of her stomach screeching threw the cabin. Lucas rummaged through his jacket and brought out a small piece of bread, offering it to her. “You need to try to eat. Please.”
The smell of the bread wafted towards her, yet it made her stomach churn. “No, I... I’m not in the mood.” Even as she said those words, her stomach growled in protest. It had been days since she had felt truly full, and the gnawing hunger intensified with every second. “What are you feeling?” she finally asked him, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her frustration. “Maybe I should go see Doctor Scott tomorrow.” “That’s a good idea,” Lucas assured her, concern softening his features. As he embraced her, the warmth of his body offered a brief respite from the chaos swirling outside. He leaned in and kissed her gently, cherishing the moment.
But just as their lips met, the town dog, Gizmo, emerged from the small bedroom, his posture rigid and alert. He stood in the doorway, eyes fixated on Emily, his tail straight up like a flag signaling danger. They pulled away from each other at the sight. “Gizmo, what’s wrong?” Emily asked, concern lacing her voice. The dog didn’t budge. He remained a statue, eyes wide yet filled with a primal instinct known only to animals. After an uncomfortable moment, he crept forward, whimpering softly as if pleading with her to heed an unspoken warning.
“Lucas, something’s not right,” she whispered, standing up nervously. “Ignore the dog, Em. Let’s go to bed,” he urged, trying to guide her away from the imminent dread that pulsed in the air. But as they turned, Emily’s heart raced with unease, a weight in the pit of her stomach that no amount of warmth could alleviate. Once in the small bedroom, Lucas quickly drifted to sleep, his breath soft and rhythmic beside her. But Emily lay awake, the gnawing hunger morphing into a painful cramp—a stark reminder that she had to eat. But food felt like a concept designed for a girl that no longer existed. The food looked bad and smelled worse; her entire being recoiled from it.
The darkness pressed in on her, and Gizmo’s whimpers grew louder until they coalesced into a plea that drove her from her dreams. The old cabin creaked around her as she slipped out of bed, each step weighted with the uncertainty that came with the deep night. “Okay, boy, I’m coming,” she murmured, propping herself against the cold front door. With a strong pull, she removed the wooden board, and the door swung open, letting the frigid air swirl around her. Gizmo dashed out onto the porch like a bolt of lightning, rushing into the misty darkness.
“What is it, Gizmo? What’s wrong?” Emily asked softly, reaching out to stroke his back, but before she could touch him, he was off into the night, leaving her shivering alone under the stars. Suddenly, whispers curled around her like smoke, filling the air: “Eat, Emily, it’s okay; you have to eat. Don’t be scared. I’m coming.” The sound was surreal, jarring against the calm of the night, and dread pooled in her stomach
“Who are you? What do you want with me?” she shouted into the darkness. The voice answered, barely above a whisper, yet it stirred something primal within her. “I am yours, and you are mine. Together we will be a pack.” She shook her head furiously, defiance surging through her. “I have a pack! Lucas and I are raising a baby together. Show yourself so I can rip you apart!” The whisper echoed again, stronger now, throbbing in her veins. “Together we will stand, and all will serve under us. You will usher in a time of the calling. I am yours and you are mine.”
The power in the voice washed over her, and an unsettling sensation twisted in her gut. She blinked against the shadows and gritted her teeth, the rumbling growl deep within her surprising even herself. “Come on then! Come get me!” she shouted defiantly, her hands clenching into fists until claws began to erupt from her fingertips, glinting ominously in the moonlight. But as the power surged, the hunger came crashing in, unbearable and insistent. “No…” Emily gasped, clutching her stomach, the pain twisting and pulling at her insides. The urgency of her baby’s needs echoed through her, amplifying her desperation. “Shut up! Just… shut up!”
Then, the pounding of unseen paws resonated around her, the sound thickening the silence, reverberating like war drums growing ever closer. Red eyes flickered to life in the distance, too many to count, a legion of glowing orbs advancing through the blackness. At their center stood a massive creature, larger and more magnificent than the rest, the embodiment of the voice that called to her.
With a grace that contrasted its size, it stepped into the light, revealing a sleek, grey form, beautiful yet terrifying as it held the carcass of a small deer in its powerful jaws. Emily's breath caught as it dropped the animal before her without a sound, the blood staining the snow as strong scents of fresh meat wafted toward her, overwhelming her senses. “I am yours and you are mine. Together we will stand as one,” it intoned, its voice resonating within her chest. And just like that, they vanished into the night—like ghosts slipping through the fabric of reality, leaving only paw prints in the snow and the bloody deer at her feet. The world fell silent once more, the wind whispering through the trees as confusion pressed down on Emily.
Why hadn’t they killed me? What did they want? Emily pondered, as the bloody deer remained there, almost beckoning her, its warmth and vitality pouring into the cold air around her. As the hunger clawed at her once more, she leaned down the struggle between the voice’s call and her motherly love for her child escalating within her.
With trembling hands, she reached for the deer, hearts pounding in the darkness. She had been prepared to fight, to defend what was hers, but now there lay life and sustenance before her, hinting at a darkness she had yet to comprehend.