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This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
Dylan could admit when he was wrong. Gotten pretty good at it too. Though that didn’t mean he enjoyed it—the confession nor the deed itself. Despite the admission, he felt his current situation required some serious self-reflection...
To start, maybe not staying in the lodge was a bad idea, to say the least. Yes, Mr. H had warned them to stay inside. And yes, that warning flew over every single one of their empty, little heads (except maybe Ryan and Abi…), but it’s not like he was completely responsible for that! One: it was a group effort. Two: he really wanted to get drunk in the woods. And perhaps partying in the middle of nowhere—in the middle of the night—with a bunch of drunk 18–20-year-olds, miles away from any hospital, police station, or cellphone tower could be seen as… risky. During a full moon, nonetheless. But he could own that, especially seeing as it was his own suggestion that got them there in the first place.
He could not, however, be blamed for the fucking werewolves. Despite what his father might’ve claimed if he could see his sorry excuse for a son now.
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My reimagining of The Quarry but set in a universe where werewolves and hunters aren't that uncommon. For Dylan, at least.