The Crescent Moon.

What Lurks Beneath the Pines.

~Aria~

The bell rang sharp and clear, slicing through the low hum of voices and scraping chairs. Relief washed over me. The day had stretched too long, and even though the classes weren’t as terrifying as I expected, I was ready to get out of here.

Marla nudged me lightly with her elbow. “See? Survived your first day. Barely,” she teased, slinging her bag over one shoulder as we stepped into the hallway.

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool even though my brain still felt scrambled. “Yeah, if barely means my social life is already hanging by a thread.”

She laughed. “Welcome to Black Hallow High. You’re doing fine. Better than some.”

The hallway buzzed with bodies and movement, lockers clanging open and shut, sneakers squeaking on linoleum. It was the kind of organized chaos that made my head spin. I followed Marla through the crowd, hugging my binder to my chest like it might protect me from the noise.

As we moved past a row of lockers, I caught sight of Elia Fenwood again—leaning against a wall near the science wing, backpack slung low, talking to a guy I didn’t recognize. His laugh was low and soft, almost like a hum, and for a second, he looked up and locked eyes with me.

A chill flickered down my spine.

Marla leaned in. “You do know you’re staring, right?”

“I wasn’t,” I lied. Badly.

“Mhm.”

I focused on the floor as we walked, but I could still feel the heat prickling across my cheeks.

By the time we got to the front doors, the late afternoon sun had painted the courtyard in that soft, golden color that made everything look dreamlike. Students spilled out in little groups, laughing, yelling, waving their hands as they climbed into waiting cars or headed down the street. It felt like something out of a movie, and I stood frozen in it, heart thudding.

“You walking home?” Marla asked, brushing a stray curl behind her ear.

I shook my head. “Lenore said she’d pick me up. Something about not letting me get lost on my first day.”

Marla grinned. “She’s sweet. Kind of spooky, but sweet.”

“She grows herbs that smell like burnt dreams. Spooky is accurate.”

A breeze kicked up, tugging at the hem of my jacket. I watched as Marla’s mom pulled up in a small rusted-out car, waving from the driver’s seat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked, backing toward the passenger side.

“Definitely.”

She gave a two-finger salute and jumped into the car. I watched them drive off, then exhaled slowly. My first day was done. I hadn’t cried. I hadn’t passed out. I hadn’t even embarrassed myself—well, aside from the staring.

The wind danced across my skin again, and somewhere in the distance, a bell tower chimed. I didn’t know if it belonged to the church or the old town hall. It sounded like something ancient. Like a memory echoing across time.

I glanced back at the building one more time before walking toward the edge of the school yard. The trees lining the outer fence rustled softly, and for a moment, I swore I saw something move between them—something too tall to be a student, too fast to be normal.

But when I blinked, it was gone.

I shook it off. Just nerves. A long day. A strange town.

My steps were slow as I made my way to the front gate. I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket, the screen cracked at the corner. A message waited for me.

Lenore: “Car won’t start. I’m so sorry, love. Can you walk home? I’ll have food waiting.”

I stared at the screen for a second, then sighed. Of course. It wasn’t like it was far—just over a mile—but still, after today, I had hoped not to be alone again so soon.

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I stepped out onto the gravel path that led toward the main road. The afternoon light was already beginning to soften into something gold and lazy. I picked up a thin, curved stick from beside the walkway—a walking stick, or maybe just something to twirl in my fingers and keep my thoughts distracted.

I passed the crooked mailbox that leaned outside the library, its paint flaking like paper in the wind. I passed the old chapel with its steeple bent just slightly left, like it was bowing toward the hills. Black Hallow didn’t try to impress anyone. It just existed, still and slow and strange.

Then, just before the edge of town, I saw it.

A cat.

White, sleek, with one torn ear and eyes like slits of molten gold.

Mrs. Carter’s missing cat. I remember from the pictures she hung on her kitchen walls.

I stopped in my tracks. “Percy?” I said softly, not that I expected a response.

The cat turned its head—slowly. Watched me. Then bolted.

“Wait—!”

I don’t know why I chased after it. Maybe because I remembered the way Mrs. Carter’s voice had cracked when she’d told Lenore she couldn’t sleep at night without hearing those little paws on her porch. Maybe because the air had shifted again—heavy like a breath held too long—and the cat was the only thing moving.

I followed it without thinking.

Off the road. Past the gnarled willow. Into the woods.

The Fenwood.

Everyone in town talked about it with that same careful tone. Like it was a church, or a grave. A place not to enter unless you had a reason. Unless you were willing to see something you couldn’t unsee.

The trees closed in quickly. Tall, dark pines that made the sky disappear. The air cooled. The ground grew soft, blanketed in a carpet of old needles and moss. It smelled like bark and secrets.

I paused, heart thudding.

“Stupid,” I whispered to myself. “So stupid, Aria.”

Still, I moved forward.

Because something about the way the cat had run felt important. Like it wasn’t just fleeing—it was leading.

I kept walking deeper, branches catching in my hair, the stick in my hand doing nothing to calm the ache blooming in my chest. My boots sank into the earth as if the ground wanted to hold me here, swallow me whole.

"Percy?" I called again, quieter now.

It had been minutes. Maybe more. I couldn’t tell anymore—my sense of time stretched thin between the trees and the shadows. The world felt quieter the deeper I went, like the woods had wrapped cotton around my ears.

Then I saw it.

A flash of white fur, maybe twenty feet ahead, curled in the dark between two thick tree trunks.

Relief shot through me. I stepped forward. “There you are…”

But something was wrong.

The closer I got, the colder I felt.

And then I saw.

Percy wasn’t moving.

I dropped to my knees beside her. The stick clattered to the forest floor. Her body was still, limp—her legs twisted at unnatural angles. Her fur was soaked in something dark. Too much. Too red. Her neck—oh god, her neck had been torn through like paper.

I clamped a hand over my mouth.

This wasn’t a fox. Or a coyote. Whatever had done this didn’t kill to eat. It tore to destroy.

I couldn’t stop staring at her glassy, wide eyes. Open. Still shining with whatever life had been there just minutes ago. My stomach twisted.

A low sound rolled through the air behind me.

Not wind.

Not breath.

A growl.

I froze.

Every hair on my body lifted.

I turned slowly, heart slamming against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack them open.

That was when I saw it.

Half-shadow, half-beast. It stood maybe fifteen feet away, just beyond the splintered light filtering through the trees.

Huge.

Its shoulders were broad, fur bristling in shades of pitch and ash. Its body was wrong—longer than it should’ve been, shaped like something that had once been a wolf… but wasn’t anymore.

Eyes met mine.

Not golden.

Not animal.

Red. Burning red, like coals left too long under ash.

Its snout was wet, its teeth jagged and far too many for a mouth that size. Blood darkened the fur around its jaw.

I couldn’t breathe.

It didn’t move. Just watched.

My hand groped blindly for the stick. I didn’t believe it would help—but I needed to feel something between me and this… thing.

Then it took a step forward.

The ground didn’t crunch.

It didn’t rustle.

It simply moved—like it had always been there, waiting.

I stumbled back, knees scraping the dirt. My foot caught on a root, and I hit the ground hard.

I blinked—and it was gone.

Vanished.

No trace.

No sound.

Only the trees, and the stillness, and the body of the cat cooling at my feet.

Tears stung my eyes. I shoved the sleeve of my jacket against my mouth, trying not to scream.

Something had watched me.

Something had killed just to show me it could.

I scrambled to my feet and ran, not bothering to look back, because deep down I knew—

It wasn’t chasing me.

It didn’t need to.

It already knew who I was.

And worse… part of me felt like I had met it before.