The Last Hunt

Silver and Salt

I didn’t give Claire any response that night. I Just snuck out a little after midnight, with my head buzzing, and then I drove through the rough streets to my home. It was way too quiet and sinister for this part of town.

Getting into my apartment, Marcus was fast asleep on the couch, with a pizza that he had barely finished, sitting on the table next to him. I just stood there for a bit staring at him, and then I replayed Claire’s words to me and others.

You will be wolves for life.

Then, I thought to myself, could I possibly hurt Marcus? Could I hurt the people I cared about?

Merely thinking about it made my stomach do a somersault. But something deep inside would not agree with my conscience. At this moment, the horror within me shook violently in disagreement. It felt dark, powerful and alive.

It was hunger, and I could feel it strongly.

I didn’t sleep. I sat at my desk and lost myself in deep research. I read up on werewolves, curses, and lycanthropy. But most of it was just Hollywood nonsense. However, admittedly, those stories felt a little real. My earlier encounter with Claire and other young folks was worth ruminating about.

People talked about the same signs, the same changes and even the same kind of fear.

But all those stories died down the same way. These people stopped posting and they just…disappeared.

Meanwhile, my phone rang at 4am, then, I checked only to realize it was a text from a number I couldn’t recognize.

Don’t trust Claire.

My heart jumped a beat at seeing such message. I quickly replied:

Who is this?

Someone who survived the ritual. The ritual’s a trap. She doesn’t want to save you. She wants to use you.

Use us for what?

To finish the rituals, she needs seven people who have fully turned into werewolves. Your blood can heal her daughter, but only after you’ve fully become wolves. The ritual doesn’t stop the change. It only speeds it up.

My hands trembled beneath my phone.

How do I know you’re telling the truth?

She keeps suppressant meds in her bag to hold back the change. If she really wanted to save you, she’d have shared them with you. But she won’t. She only needs you to turn into real wolves to use all of you.

And then, another message dropped in my inbox almost immediately. This time, it was an address. He obviously wants to meet.

Meet me tomorrow night, and I will show you the truth. I will show you how to survive.

Given how the message landed in my inbox, I should have ignored this it. I should have blocked the number and run back to Claire while the accusation still fresh on my tongue. I mean, no honest person would hide their identity to tell the truth. But this person might have his reasons, too. Now, I was even more curious.

I won’t block the number, I said to myself. The message felt far too honest. Somehow, it resonated with me.

I will be there, I replied.

Monday seemed to drag like a nightmare playing in slow motion.

I called in sick at work, then I passed the day staring at my hands. They looked normal, but I could feel something crawling under my skin. It felt powerful and restless. It’s growing, I could feel it.

The hunger that gripped me was getting worse. I finished a whole rotisserie chicken before Marcus could even wake up, but I felt empty still. He asked if I was okay. But I lied I was stressed.

By 8 P.M., I had driven down and parked outside the address I received from the text. The place was an abandoned factory located on the outskirts of town. The walls were covered with rust. The windows were smashed, but the walls were bleeding with graffiti.

Every instinct screamed at me to turn around.

But I went inside anyway.

The place was huge and empty, lit by bits of moonlight shining through the holes in the roof. As I advanced inside, my footsteps echoed like warnings.

“Hello?” My voice echoed through the dark space and huge walls.

A figure stepped out from behind a pillar. It was a man who seemed to be in his mid-thirties. He had a scruffy beard and sunken eyes. Looks way too thin. He walked with a limp that looked like it had been there forever.

“Jake Morrison,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”

“Who are you?”

“Daniel.” He swallowed like the name hurt. “I was part of the group before yours. Two years ago, eight of us were bitten. Claire found us, but she said the same things she told you. She promised rituals, cure, hope and that bullshit”

“What happened?”

“We believed her.” His voice broke a little bit. “Three out of us died during the ritual. But the rest of us… we fully changed. Trust me, she locked us in cages and bled us for months. Our blood was medicine for her daughter.”

My breath ceased for a second. Could Claire be the real monster here? “Where are the others?”

His facial expression answered me before he could even breathe a word.

“Dead,” he said softly. “All of them. I’m the only one who escaped the torment.”

He stepped a little closer to me. I could perceive the smell of blood and forest all over him.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” I asked. It was the logical thing to do, of course.

Daniel didn’t argue any further. He simply pulled off his shirt to reveal his body.

There were scars. There were dozens and different shapes of them, with old wounds crossing over each other as if they bore their own unique history.

“This is the truth,” he whispered to me. “This is what she has planned for you.”

Seeing this, I suddenly felt sick. His story was making a hell of sense, but not in a good way for my mental health. “Then how do we stop the transformation?

“You don’t.” His honesty hit me like a brick. “Once you’re bitten, you cannot escape the wolf. But you can slow it and control it enough to live a life.”

He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket and placed it in my hand.

“This is a bottle of suppressants. Take one pill a day. Get them to the others and share with them. Do not let Claire perform that ritual. Once you finish changing… you’re no longer human to her. You’re resources and a pawn in her little game.”

His gripped my shoulder tightly.

“Promise me, Jake. Promise me you will save them.”

“I promise.”

He nodded, then paused for a bit before walking back into the shadows.

“Claire isn’t alone,” he warned. “She has hunters. If they suspect you know, they’ll come for you. Trust no one.”

And then he left without a trace this time.

I stood there alone in that cold and empty place, holding on to a bottle of pills and a promise banging in my chest.

If Daniel was really telling the truth, then everyone I cared about was in danger.

I must warn them.