Chapter 7 – Blood on the Leaves
1131 Words
(Belle’s small cabin near the edge of Silver Hollow woods. Early morning after the terrifying encounter on the street. Fog coils between the trees. The world is too quiet.)
Belle (muttering to herself as she pushes open the creaky door)
“Home sweet home. Perfect spot for a horror movie. All that’s missing is the serial killer waiting under my bed.”
She tosses her bag onto a chair. The cabin smells faintly of cedar and old books, comforting and familiar. But the woods beyond the window press too close, shadows lingering even in daylight.
Belle (pulling her phone from her pocket, sighing)
Zero bars. Again. Honestly, I should just tie two tin cans together with string to probably get better reception.
A knock rattles against the cabin wall three sharp taps. Belle spins, heart hammering. But when she yanks the door open, there’s nothing. Just trees, dripping with dew, and silence.
Belle (gritting her teeth, speaking louder than necessary)
“Ha-ha. Very funny. Whoever’s out there, I hope you enjoy creeping out college girls for a living.”
Silence. She steps out cautiously, boots sinking into damp leaves. The fog curls at her ankles. A faint metallic scent hits her nose, coppery, sharp.
Belle (wrinkling her nose)
“What the hell…? That’s not pine.”
She follows the smell a few steps into the clearing behind the cabin. The ground is disturbed claw marks gouged into the soil. Her eyes track upward and she freezes.
Shredded animal remains lie scattered, fur matted with blood. A deer, or what used to be one. The carcass is torn open, savaged, as if ripped apart by something far stronger than wolves.
Belle (backing up, whispering)
“Oh my God…”
A voice drifts from behind her, low and steady.
Lucian:
“You shouldn’t have come out here alone.”
Belle (spinning around, relief flooding then quickly replaced by irritation)
“Jesus, Lucian! Would it kill you to clear your throat or, I don’t know, knock like a normal person before sneaking up on me? ”
Lucian (eyes fixed on the remains, ignoring her sarcasm)
“That wasn’t me.”
Belle (throwing up her hands)
“Oh, good. Thanks for clarifying. Because obviously, when I see ripped-apart Bambi in my backyard, my first thought is: ‘Lucian had a midnight snack.’”
Lucian (his expression dark, voice tight)
“This isn’t hunting. This is a message.”
Belle (snapping, more to hide her nerves)
“A message? What, like wolves have a bloody postal service now? ‘Dear Belle, welcome to the neighborhood, enjoy your free corpse.’”
Lucian (stepping closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming, voice low but sharp)
“Stop joking. This means you’re being watched. They know where you live.”
(Belle swallows, her sarcasm faltering as she looks again at the shredded remains.)
Belle (quietly)
“…Who’s ‘they’?”
Lucian (glances at the trees, his jaw tightening)
“Bloodfang. August’s pack. He’s letting me know he can get to you whenever he wants.”
Belle (crossing her arms, trying to hold onto her bravado)
“Fantastic. So now I’ve got two psycho alphas circling me like I’m some kind of… prize pig at the fair.”
Lucian (eyes flashing, voice rough)
“You’re not a prize pig. You’re the key to everything.”
Belle (snapping back, voice rising)
“I didn’t ask to be anyone’s ‘key,’ Lucian! I came here for school, coffee shifts, and maybe a halfway normal life. Not… not this.”
The silence that follows is heavy. Belle’s chest rises and falls quickly. Lucian’s gaze softens for just a heartbeat.
Lucian (quietly)
“You can still have a life. But not if you keep ignoring the danger.”
Belle (mocking laugh, bitter)
“Oh, right. Because ignoring danger is my thing. You think I wanted a werewolf death cult sending me bloody care packages?!”
Lucian (suddenly fierce, stepping closer)
“Then listen to me when I say don’t go anywhere alone. Don’t walk these woods at night. Don’t invite shadows in just because you think you can handle them.”
Belle (glaring, stepping closer to him in defiance)
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m not part of your pack. I’m not your responsibility.”
Lucian (his voice dropping, words edged with something raw)
“You think I’m here because I want to be? You think I like watching over you every second? I don’t.”
Belle falters, caught off guard. For a moment, something flickers in his eyes, not just anger, but something more vulnerable. She opens her mouth, then shuts it again.
Belle (softer, hesitant)
“Then… why are you here?”
Lucian doesn’t answer immediately. He looks away, muscles tense, then mutters low.
Lucian:
“Because if August gets to you first… I’ll never forgive myself.”
The words hang in the fog, heavy and unspoken. Belle swallows hard, her sarcasm stripped away. For the first time, she sees the torment behind his predator’s mask.
Belle (voice small, almost whispering)
“…Lucian.”
Before she can press further, a sound cuts through the trees. A snap of a branch breaking. Lucian’s head whips toward the noise, every muscle taut.
Belle (whispering harshly)
“Please tell me that’s just a squirrel.”
Lucian (snarling low, eyes glowing faintly)
“That’s no squirrel.”
The woods are silent again. Too silent. Even the birds have stopped. Belle’s skin prickles with the sense of being watched. Lucian’s hands curl into fists, claws threatening to break skin.
Belle (trying to steady her voice)
“Lucian… What if it’s him? August?”
Lucian (shaking his head, tone grim):
“No. He wouldn’t waste his time watching from the shadows. He’d send others first. Scouts. Killers.”
Belle (sarcastic, nervous)
“Wow, that’s… totally comforting. Thanks.”
A drop of moisture lands on her hand. She glances up instinctively. Her breath catches because it isn’t water. It’s red. Blood.
Belle (choking whisper)
“…Lucian?”
He follows her gaze upward, his expression turning lethal. Belle’s heart pounds as another drop falls not on her hand this time, but warm against her cheek, sliding slowly down her skin.
Belle (frozen, voice trembling)
“It’s coming from… the trees.”
Above them, something stirs. The branches groan. And then Belle sees it. A dark shape crouched in the canopy, dripping fresh blood down onto the leaves below Watching.
Belle (gasping, stumbling back)
“Oh my God… it’s above us”
Lucian (snarling, stepping in front of her, voice guttural)
“Stay behind me. Don’t look up.”
But Belle can’t help it. Her eyes remain locked on the shadow crouched among the branches, blood dripping steadily onto the leaves… and onto her cheek.
To be continued.
- Writer
