Chapter 1 – Dreaded Memories
1428 Words
The clash of steel rang out like a cruel melody.
The ground trembled beneath my feet, quaking with every pounding step of warriors locked in a deadly dance. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the choking smell of sweat. Shouts and snarls tore through the night, mixing with the deep growls of wolves in mid-shift.
I stood frozen, numb as stone, unsure of how to move, how to breathe.
“Elie, go! Run—please, you have to go!”
Ethan’s voice shattered the chaos, raw and desperate, tearing through the din, bringing me back from my delima.
As his eyes found mine through the swirling blur of movement. His face was streaked with dirt and blood, his breathing ragged.
“No!” I choked, my voice cracking as tears blurred my vision turning the scene into smears of red and shadow. “I can’t leave you here! We promised… we promised never to leave each other—”
His hand shot out, almost as if he could will me away by sheer force. “There’s no way we will both make it out! Go with Mom! Please!”
I’d never seen him like that before—his voice breaking, the fight in his tone undercut by fear. My chest ached, my heart breaking in a way I knew would never heal.
“I can’t—”
“You have to!” His words cracked into a cough.
The battle raged on behind him, claws meeting steel, snarls ripping through the night. And still, I couldn’t move.
My twin brother’s face flashed through the haze of dust and blood—his dark eyes wide with fear. I’d never seen Ethan afraid. Not like this.
“There’s no way we'll both make it out!” His voice was a broken roar. “Go with Mom. Please! Please” he said again, this time with more pain.
Something inside me broke. Every instinct screamed to stay, to fight at his side, but the pleading in his eyes—pleading I’d never seen before,rooted me in place. And then, with a shuddering breath, I turned and ran.
The world became a blur of screams and tearing flesh. My feet pounded the dirt, weaving between fallen bodies—faces I knew, faces I would never see alive again.
I searched frantically for her.
“Elena!” Mom’s voice cut through the c*****e, ragged with terror. She was there—hair disheveled, eyes darting wildly, scanning for me. Relief punched through my chest—
And then pain.
White-hot, searing pain exploded in my abdomen. I gasped, stumbling forward, my hands instinctively clutching my stomach. Warmth spread beneath my fingers, sticky and wet—
“Elena. Elena! Elie—”
The voice was closer now. Softer. Urgent.
“Elie, wake up!”
My eyes flew open. My heart thundered in my chest, but the battle was gone. The metallic scent faded into the faint lavender of my bedsheets.
The room around me came into focus—my bed, my desk, the pale light of morning filtering through the blinds. My mother stood over me, her face etched with worry.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her hand still resting on my shoulder.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Sweat clung to my skin, despite the cool hum of the air conditioner. “Just… another nightmare,” I whispered.
Her expression softened, but I could still see the shadow of fear in her gaze. She pulled me into a hug,her scent— rose and something warm wrapping around me, her voice low and soothing. “You’re safe, Elie. It’s over.”
But it wasn’t. Not for me. Not in my head. Those nights still came—the nights where the past clawed its way back into my dreams, dragging me to the blood and the screams I’d never forget.
Mom pulled back just far enough to press a kiss to my forehead. “It’s almost seven. You need to start getting ready for school.”
I groaned quietly, sinking deeper into my pillow. “Do I really have to go today?”
“Yes, you do,” she said firmly, her lips twitching with a hint of amusement. “And you will. Twenty minutes, Elie. Don’t make me come back up here.”
I sighed, dragging myself upright as she left the room.
***
Hi. My name's Elena Davison, though my close ones which includes Mom and… well, once upon a time, Ethan, and sometimes Dad, called me Elie. But my Mom still does. It’s been just us for the past five years. Since that night.
I’m seventeen. A werewolf. A high schooler in San Francisco. And if you couldn’t already tell, I’m not a fan of school. It’s not that I hate learning, I hate pretending…. Pretending to be human. Pretending to fit in when I’ll never belong.
Mom says blending in is survival. But every day I feel the mask slipping, little by little.
Sometimes I wonder how much longer I’ll have to keep it up. Maybe until I finally shift for the first time. I’m counting the days.And when it comes… there will be no mask left to wear.
I sat up, stretching until my joints popped… Glancing around. My room, as always, was neat—too neat. My gaze landed on the picture frame by my bed. I picked it up, brushing my thumb across the glass.
“Good morning, Ethan,” I whispered to the grinning boy frozen in time beside me in the photo. We looked so happy. Carefree. Like the world couldn’t touch us. That was a lie, but it was a beautiful one.
“I miss you,” I added, pressing my lips to the glass before setting it down, and headed to the bathroom.
The bathroom’s cold tiles kissed my bare feet. I stepped under the shower, and icy water rushed over me, shocking me into wakefulness. My mind drifted—unwanted memories creeping in, but I forced them back.
“I’ll make them pay, Ethan,” I murmured to the water swirling down the drain. “I promise.”
By the time I emerged, wrapped in a towel, Dynasty by MIIA was playing from my phone.
I dressed quickly—A loose hoodie that hides my frame, baggy jeans pooling slightly over my sneakers. If I could disappear into the fabric, I would. Then brushed my long silver-like blond hair, streaked with strands of blue, curling it to rest just above my waist. Ethan always teased me about them.
I gave myself a once-over in the mirror. Not perfect, but passable.
“Mom!” I called as I descended the stairs. She was already in the kitchen, plating breakfast.
The scent of pancakes and bacon drifts through the air.
“Took you long enough, huh” she teased, and we both laughed.
I sat at the table, staring at the towering stack of pancakes and crispy bacon.
“Eat, Elie. You’re looking too skinny.”
“I know, Mom, but isn’t this… a lot?”
“No complaints.”
“Yes, Mom,” I muttered, though the first bite reminded me why I never won these arguments. My mom was an incredible cook.
She’s always been like this—overfeeding me as though she can protect me with breakfast alone. And honestly? Her pancakes might be the one thing in this world that still feels safe.
We finish quickly and head for the car.
The ride to Wilson High is wrapped in comfortable silence—until it isn’t.
“You know the rules,” she starts. “Stay calm. Keep your temper in check. Avoid trouble.”
I bite back a groan. “Mom, I know.”
Her tone softens. “I can’t lose you too, Elie. Not after your dad. Not after Ethan.”
My chest tightens. Those memories aren’t welcome here, not again, in the morning sunlight, not when the day hasn’t even started. I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I’ll be fine.”
She nods, but I can feel the tension radiating from her even as she pulls up in front of the school.
“See you after class,” she says, pressing a quick kiss to my temple before driving off.
I stand there for a moment, staring up at the building, its brick walls glowing warm in the morning light.
But all I can hear is the echo of steel on steel, and my brother’s voice breaking through the chaos.
Run, Elie.
- Writer
