The Primes Reckoning

INVISIBLE

Vera

I ran until my lungs felt burned. I couldn't pull air in fast enough, each breath scraped down my throat like I was swallowing needles. A branch caught my sleeve and tore it half off my arm. I felt the sting across my palm before I registered, grabbing a thorn brush to keep from falling, and still I couldn't stop, because behind me the underbrush was exploding with sounds that shouldn't belong to anything that existed.

I'd watched men fold themselves into wolves. Watched wolves rear up on their hind legs and become men again, their spines cracking back into new shapes. Drake's father had stood in the center of that circle with moonlight pooling around him like he was something you'd kneel to.

And Drake, he had been in the trees. I felt his eyes find me before I saw him, that split second when his whole face changed. Then he started toward me.

That's when my legs remembered how to move.

I was now completely surrounded by the jungle, pressed in on all sides, so thick I couldn't tell which direction I'd come from anymore. Every breath tasted like I was licking a rusty pipe, that iron-dirt flavor coating my tongue. My chest kept seizing up, these violent hiccups of air that felt like my ribs were caving in on themselves.

They'd told me I had panic disorder. That my body invented danger where there wasn't any. But I could hear them behind me. The howls rolling through the trees, so low they vibrated in my sternum.

There was something wrong with the sound, it's almost like voices underneath. Then another one answered from deeper in, and another, and I realized they were surrounding me.

A c***k to my left, wood breaking under serious weight caused me to lurch right without thinking, my feet sliding out on the wet leaves. My ankle rolled and pain shot up my leg, but I kept going. The trees gave way all at once. I broke through into open air and nearly went sprawling.

Moonlight flooded the grass, turning it silver. Shadows pooled thick and black at the edges. I backed toward an oak tree, the bark biting through my thin jacket, and forced myself to listen. The heavy sound of paws striking the ground was getting closer.

A shape moved between the trees, low to the ground. Massive shoulders rolled beneath dark fur. Its head lifted, nostrils flaring. Yellow eyes locked onto me, sending shivers down my spine.

Another wolf appeared to my right, larger than the first. Its muzzle had a smear of something dark along its jawline. Then a third stepped into the clearing behind them.

My pulse raced so hard, my vision blurred now that there was nowhere left to go.

The first wolf stepped forward, and I understood with horrifying clarity. They were hunting me.

***

Three weeks earlier.

The lecture hall was half-full when I arrived. I took my usual seat near the window. It was close enough to seem engaged but far enough to avoid direct eye contact with Dr. James. The professor was setting up the projector, her dark hair with silver highlights pulled back in a tidy bun, her voice carrying a sense of authority.

I’d done well in her midterm. 94%. She’d written “Good analysis” in the margin and nothing else. I kept the paper for three weeks before the embarrassment of holding onto it became worse than the pain of throwing it away.

I pulled out my laptop and opened a blank document. I wouldn’t take notes; just type random words that looked like notes if anyone glanced over.

“Today,” Dr. James said, clicking on the first slide, “we’re discussing researcher positionality. How your social location affects what you see and what you don’t.” I stared at the slide, noting the topic. “Who can give me an example of how a researcher’s identity might blind them to certain data?” The hand-raising began. I looked down at my keyboard and typed nonsense words, willing my heart to slow, silently praying not to be called on.

“Vera.” I flinched so hard my knee hit the desk. Dr. James was looking at me with one eyebrow raised, waiting.

“Sorry?” The word came out too softly. I cleared my throat and tried again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get that.”

“I asked for your thoughts on positionality. You seem elsewhere.”

I am always elsewhere. I rehearse conversations that would never happen and avoid those that were happening right now. I couldn't tell her that though.

“Um.” My voice sounded like someone else’s. “I guess... if a researcher comes from a privileged background, they might not see structural barriers as... as significant? Because they haven’t experienced them?”

Dr. James studied me with her sharp eyes before responding. “Yes. That’s adequate.”

The word hit me like a low grade. Another student offered something more articulate. I stayed in my chair as the sweat on my lower back turned cold, hating myself for wanting her approval so much, for still trying, when I’d spent two decades learning it was always conditional.

As the lecture dragged on, the projector flickered. A low hum, like distant thunder trapped in the walls, filled the room. Dr. James paused, frowning at the equipment. Students took it as a chance to relax, whispering among themselves. Then the lights dimmed, long enough to make shadows stretch longer than they should.

Outside the tall windows, a shadow moved. At first, I thought it was a stray dog. The campus was full of them. But this one was bigger, padding along the edge of the walkway with a deliberate, almost human caution. Its coat was dark, mottled gray-black. It stopped directly opposite our window. Its head turned slowly. Yellow eyes, a little too bright, locked onto me.

I held my breath as its eyes held mine for a moment. Then the creature’s lips peeled back in what might have been a grin, revealing teeth too long and sharp for any campus dog.

A girl two rows ahead gasped. “What is that?” Someone else laughed nervously. “Just a big dog. Relax.” But I couldn’t look away.

The dog tilted its head, ears pricked forward as if it had heard the conversation in the room. Then it turned and vanished into the bushes, gone as if it was never here.

The lights steadied, the projector resumed, Dr. James cleared her throat and continued as if nothing had happened. But my hands shook on the keyboard, my heart racing. No one else seemed to have noticed the creature staring right at me.

It hadn’t come for scraps or shade.

It came looking.

And it found me.