THE WILD IN HER BLOOD

EPISODE FIVE; YOU HEARD IT TOO

I didn’t mean to fall asleep by the window.

I was supposed to change, eat dinner, do my homework—be normal. But I guess I was tired of pretending things were fine. The claw marks were right there, and I kept staring at them like they’d answer something.

The glass was cold against my cheek when I woke up. My neck ached. Outside, the sky was already dark.

I checked my phone. No messages. There is no signal. Nothing.

Downstairs, the house was quiet. No dishes clinking, no radio. No, Grandma.

I frowned, brushing my hair back as I stepped down the stairs. The lights were still on, and the front door was locked.

But she wasn’t in the kitchen. Or the living room.

I called out once.

Nothing.

It wasn’t like her to go out this late. Not without saying something.

I checked again. Her shoes were by the door. Her coat was still hanging. But she was just… gone.

---

I waited an hour.

Still nothing.

Tried to convince myself that maybe she was next door, borrowing something. Maybe she went to lie down. Maybe I missed a note.

But my stomach didn’t believe it.

The silence wasn’t peaceful. It felt wrong.

Heavy.

Like the house knew something I didn’t.

---

By nine, I couldn’t sit still anymore.

I grabbed my flashlight and jacket. Just in case.

I wasn’t planning to go far. Just check around. Make sure everything was okay.

But the second I stepped outside, I heard it.

A howl.

Not far.

It didn’t sound angry. Not loud. But it was enough to stop me in my tracks.

Goosebumps ran down my arms.

I turned back to the door. Thought about locking myself inside and pretending it was nothing.

Then I remembered what Kael said.

“Don’t answer it.”

But I wasn’t answering.

I was just listening.

---

I followed the sound down the narrow path behind the house. The flashlight beam shook slightly in my hand. My breath fogged in the cold air.

Every crunch of leaves made me jump. I kept telling myself to turn back. But something pulled me forward.

Like a string tied to my ribs.

---

Then I saw her.

Grandma.

Standing near the edge of the woods, facing the trees like she was waiting for something.

“Grandma?” I called.

She didn’t turn.

I walked faster.

“Grandma, what are you doing?”

Still no response.

I stepped beside her and looked at her face—and something in my chest dropped.

Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t blinking. Her lips moved slowly, like she was whispering—but no sound came out.

I reached for her arm.

The second I touched her, her body jolted.

She blinked, finally looking at me. Her breath caught.

“Aria?” she whispered. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I was looking for you—”

“Go back to the house.”

“What were you doing?”

She glanced toward the trees again. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to come out here.”

My throat tightened. “Then why did you?”

She looked back at me, and for the first time since I moved here, she looked scared.

“I heard something,” she said. “It was calling me.”

---

We walked home in silence. Her steps were slow, like she wasn’t fully present. She didn’t explain. I didn’t push.

But my heart didn’t settle—not even when we stepped inside and locked the door.

---

Later that night, I lay on my bed, wide awake.

I didn’t turn off the light.

My ears stayed tuned for any sound. Any whisper. Any scratch.

I didn’t hear the howl again.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about her standing out there like that. Her voice when she said it was calling me.

She hadn’t been dreaming.

She’d heard it, too.

---

And if it could pull her into the woods...

What’s stopping it from pulling me?