Chapter Two- The wolf watching
1061 Words
The entire school was louder than usual.
Whispers followed through the hallways from the moment I stepped inside Mead High.
Students gathered in small groups near lockers, talking too loudly about something they barely understood.
“…they said his head was completely gone.”
“No way.”
“I’m serious. My cousin’s dad is a cop.”
“They found him near the woods outside town.”
I kept walking without reacting.
But every word still reached me.
Of course they found the body.
Bodies don’t stay hidden forever.
Especially not when police start searching after every disappearance.
I shoved my hands deeper into my hoodie pockets and moved through the hallway quietly.
“…they think it was an animal attack.”
“An animal can’t cut somebody’s head off.”
That almost made me laugh.
Almost.
Fear spread fast in small towns.
People create stories when reality becomes too ugly to accept.
Monster sounded easier than truth.
My eyes lifted instinctively—
and landed on her.
Amy.
Standing near the far hallway window with her bag hanging loosely from one shoulder.
The noise around me faded slightly again.
That scent.
Even from here, I could still catch traces of it.
Faint.
Strange.
Persistent.
My jaw tightened.
Something about her kept pulling at instincts I spent years learning to control.
Then my eyes drifted lower.
The pendant rested against her chest again.
Small.
Golden color
Like her eyes
Old.
And instantly my chest
tightened harder.
I knew that pendant.
Not from yesterday.
From before.
It didn’t leave my mind.
Even when I tried to ignore it, it stayed there—quiet, persistent, wrong.
I had seen it before.
That much I was sure of.
But memory refused to give me the rest.
Only fragments came.
Metal.
Blood.
A flash of something I couldn’t fully see.
Then nothing.
The strange familiarity crawling beneath my skin whenever I looked at it.
“Where did you get that?”
I could still hear my own voice from earlier.
Her answer was simple.
“It’s a family heirloom.”
That was all she said.
No hesitation.
No explanation.
Just that.
I clenched my jaw slightly as I walked out of the school gates.
People moved around me loudly, carelessly, talking about things that didn’t matter to me
Assignments.
Parties.
Relationships.
Normal things.
I never got to understand conversations like that once.
My attention shifted automatically toward the front gate.
Toward her.
Amy.
She stepped out quietly, adjusting the strap of her bag slightly as she walked down the stairs.
Then I followed.
Not too close.
Never too close.
Tracking someone isn’t difficult when you know how to stay patient.
Most people walk with patterns.
Predictable movements.
Predictable pauses.
Fear usually makes them look behind themselves every few seconds.
Amy didn’t look back once.
Not when footsteps echoed behind her.
Not even when the streets started getting emptier.
Most people check eventually.
Instinct forces them to.
A glance over the shoulder.
A quicker step.
A tighter grip on their bag.
Fear leaves habits inside people.
But Amy walked like none of those habits existed in her.
Calm.
Unaware.
Or trusting.
That should have made things easier.
Instead, it made me more alert.
Because either she was careless…
or she felt safe.
She walked through quieter roads.
Then turned into a residential area I didn’t recognize at first.
Old buildings.
Simple gates.
No signs of wealth or structure.
Just… living space.
I slowed my steps.
Watching.
She stopped in front of a house.
Not hers.
I stayed back as she went inside.
The door opened like it was familiar.
That didn’t fit.
If she was a transfer student, she shouldn’t have familiarity anywhere here yet.
Not this quickly.
Not like this.
I stayed outside longer than I planned.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
I didn’t move.
I just watched the house.
Trying to understand what I was seeing.
A girl with no clear background.
A pendant I couldn’t place.
A scent I couldn’t define.
Nothing connected properly.
And that was starting to irritate me.
She came out later.
Not alone.
A woman followed her out briefly.
Not family I guess
Too distant.
Too neutral.
Like someone assigned, not connected.
They spoke briefly.
Then the woman went back inside.
Amy stayed outside a moment longer.
Then left.
Alone again.
I followed her again.
This time, she walked slower.
Like she was tired.
Or thinking.
Or unaware of how exposed she was.
Streetlights flickered above us as night started to settle.
The city grew quieter.
More empty.
More open.
I didn’t know why I was still following her.
At first it was the pendant.
Now it wasn’t just that.
It was everything around her.
The way things didn’t fit.
The way she didn’t question anything around her.
The way my instincts refused to settle.
By the time she stopped walking again, it was already late.
Very late.
The streets were nearly empty.
Night had fully settled over the city.
Most stores were closed now.
Streetlights flickered weakly above empty sidewalks while distant traffic hummed somewhere far away.
The air felt colder.
Sharper.
The kind of cold that settles quietly into your bones if you stand still too long.
Silence stretching between buildings.
Amy stood near the edge of the road beneath a dying streetlight, completely unaware of how exposed she looked standing there alone.
I stopped far behind her.
Watching.
Waiting.
Something felt off again.
Not danger yet.
But close.
Then I saw it.
A movement between the buildings.
I narrowed my eyes.
Something was there.
Not human.
Not entirely.
It stayed in the shadows at first.
Watching her.
Not me.
Her.
My hand slowly moved closer to my sword.
Controlled.
Silent.
The thing shifted again.
A shape.
Low.
Coiled.
Eyes catching light for a split second.
Not normal.
Not wild.
Focused.
Like it had been tracking her.
Long before I arrived.
Amy didn’t notice.
She just stood there.
Still unaware.
Still calm.
That should have been strange.
But it wasn’t anymore.
Because I had seen enough to know—
She didn’t notice things that others would.
Or something was making sure she didn’t.
The shape in the dark lowered itself slightly.
Preparing.
Waiting.
Then it moved.
Just slightly.
A single step forward.
And I finally saw it clearly.
A wolf.
Watching her.
Still.
Silent.
Intent.
My breath slowed.
- Writer
