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A fire crackled warmly in the fireplace of a small house on the edge of town, a beacon of warmth against the cold night outside. Four people huddled around it with mugs of tea and soft blankets, chatting together and enjoying the warmth.
“I’m telling you, whatever killed my horse, it wasn’t normal!” 4C exclaimed from his spot on the floor, gesturing with a long empty mug. “Massive claw marks all over its body, and two huge puncture wounds in its neck! No sign of blood anywhere either!”
“Could be a vampire.” Graecie suggested. She took a sip of tea and placed her cup on the table next to her chair. “Drained all the blood out and flew away before you could catch it.”
“That’s stupid.” Apo scoffed. She briefly made the mistake of holding her tea where Cherri could reach it, and quickly moved it above her head out of reach before any mischief could be done, much to her partner’s disappointment. “Vampires aren’t real.”
“I mean, you never know.” Cherri leaned back against Apo’s chest and reached unsuccessfully for their mug, completely ignoring her own in favor of messing with them. “I mean, I met a werewolf once.”
“No you didn’t.” Apo looked down at her with mixed amusement and doubt.
“I did!”
“When? How?” Graecie leaned forward in her chair, her interest peaked. 4C nodded, equally curious.
Cherri paused for a moment, a flicker of something passing over her face for just a moment before the easy smile returned. “You want the story? Alright then. It was when I was just starting out as a hunter…”
—
Cherri was, to put it bluntly, fucked. Turns out, getting work as a bounty hunter wasn’t as simple as walking in and picking out a job. People didn’t want to invest in someone who would just run away or die without getting the job done. They wanted to be able to trust that they would get what they paid for. They wanted someone with a reputation, and Cherri had none. No one was hiring a seventeen year old girl with nothing to show for herself, not unless they were extremely stupid, or extremely desperate.
Luckily for her, this guy seemed to be both.
“My son, he’s… not quite right, you see.” The old man had been sitting at the corner table alone for almost four months now. The reward he was offering was one of the highest on the board, but no one went near him. Apparently, four people had already died on that job. The rumor was that it was secretly a trap, and the old man was luring people to their doom.
Well, trap or not, Cherri needed money fast, and the old man was willing to hire anyone regardless of reputation.
“Your son? Alright, where can I find him?”
“No, you don’t understand. He wasn’t always like this–”
“Look, buddy, with all due respect to that big pile of money you’ve got, I don’t care. I’m a bounty hunter, not a therapist. Just tell me where to find him and I’ll get the job done.”
The man gave her a long look, then nodded, face solemn. “Alright, miss. I’ll point you out on the map. Payment will be delivered after proof of death.”
“No way, payment up front. You don’t get to change the rules just because everyone here’s afraid to talk to you.” There was no way in hell she was giving her first client a chance to scam her, the rules on payment were there for a reason.
“Miss, with all due respect, I know nothing about you. The amount I’m investing here is not an insignificant sum, and while I’m sure you’re quite capable, I have no way of knowing if you’ll return alive. Besides, if you’ve come to me of all people even after hearing the rumors about my job, there’s a chance you’re just as desperate as I am. You can’t afford to turn me down over something as trivial as a before or after, can you? Otherwise we wouldn’t still be talking.”
Shit, he had her there. Cherri needed this, she couldn’t afford to be picky. “...Fine. But when I come back in here with his head in a sack, you better pay up. Got it?”
“Of course, miss. I wish you the best of luck.”
Cherri took the morning to prepare and set off, riding two weeks south from her base town to the capital. Turns out, her years spent running with bandits paid off, as it was almost laughably easy to slip into the city through the sewers once night fell to avoid having to answer any awkward questions from the guards at the front gate. She crawled up into the street in the poorer end of town and checked herself into the cheapest hotel she could find. This was supposedly the area where the old man and his son had lived before something went wrong, so she’d check the area in the morning. But as it turned out…
i̸̧͈͖̩̹̜͇̼̣̞̟̝̞̩̙̋̏̋̕͠͝͝͝t̴͔̮̬̳͓̗̪̪̯́̀ ̶̧̜̫̩̗͉̳͔͇͉͙̞̻̠̼͈̗̣̍h̴̡̨̧̢̡̨̯̺͙̫͙͔͈̮̠̜̘̗̘̲̘̆̒̓̽́̀́̊̊̕ừ̶̛̛̝̰͙̖̤̬̬̱̍͋́̈́̾̀͊̿̂͘̚͘͝ȑ̸͍̖͍̋̓̆̒͛͆̅̑̔̄̕͠ţ̸̧̳͕̯͉̙̩̝͖̱̰̬̯̪͔̼͙̪͑̓̎̉̀̀͗̕͘͜͝s̸̨̢̡͉̤̲̣͓̳̞̫̙͙̻̰̝͍̅̈́̽̔͆̿̍̓̄̐̈́̆́̔̋̀͆̕͠͝ ̵̨̢̧̱̪̩͖̩̥̠̬̻̭̗͉̳͍̦̿̾w̶̧̗͎̹̟̩̜͙̰͕͎̩̓͒́̈́̈̆̈̓̄̾̏̈́͒͊̃̋́͘̕͝h̸̡̘͚͔̹͉͙̳͚̫̦̹̱̩̪͋͗̒́y̵̗̭̦̹̮͚͉͚̘͖͚͋̋ ̷̧̢̨̮͖͇̱͕̦͓̪͙͚̞͉̗̈̀͂͒̌̕ͅć̴͕̜͔͕̠̮̙̖̗̥̰̯̱̐̓̔͘͝ͅa̶̡̨̻̭̟̱͕̣͉͂͐̈͊͗̾̾͊̉͌̎͊̈́̾̋̈́̿n̷̛̟̤̤̦̖̪͖͉̳͖̄͐͒̈́̍̄̓̓̊̅̀́̿͋̒͋̚͠͠’̵̨̭̲͕͙͖̼̘͐̏̒̍͐͆͑͋̓̌͋̂̿͑̅̾͘͜͝t̶̜̂̾̑̋̍́̅̕̕ ̵̧͕̯̬̣̻̩̠͕͚̩͌͆̑̈́͒̓̉͋̆̏͜Į̴̟̣̹͈̙͎̳͓̝͔̪͓͈̘̫͔͇̅́͋̑́̋̈́̅͌̔̆͛̕͘̕͠ ̴̧̡̛̛̮̠͎̙̹̗͈͚̺̱̣̰͎̓̉͌̊́̍̃͠ͅͅš̸͉̦̥͖̗̹̗̦̬̺̙̘̰̭͉̟̹̤͔͂̊̅͜͝ë̷̮͚̗̫̭̝͇̗̳̙̲̲̟̖̰̠́̇̅̾͗̽̋̎̀́̓͆̆͜͝͝ͅͅë̴̱́͋̉̋͑̕ ̵̛͖͖̦̼̝͙̪̄̏̐͂̋̀̇̉̒̉̏͛́̍̕͝͝͝ẁ̷̧̛̼̠̬̯̺̬̯̜̜̇̓̔̏̀̊̃͌̊͘͘͝h̴̺̫̖̩͙͓̖͇͙̟͂̎̊͒̀̆͑͘̕͝ȩ̸̧̦͉̣̦̻̖̙͉̮͖̳̘̥͍͍͛͋̓̔͗̏͂́̓̈̓̕͝r̴̻̭̲̥͓̤̗̱͖̪̄́̀́̅̏ȩ̷̨̞͙̥̺̞̺̯́̎́̇̉͒͐̀̀̔̚’̵̧̿̀̓͐͊͂̅͂̈́̊̋̒͛͌̌̀͑̚͠ͅs̵̢̨̨̪̟͇̥͍̗̙̙̗͖͍̣͇̫̫̉͒́̿̃̑̌͊̅̊̏ͅ ̸̙͇͔̲̯͛̓͌̏͌͂͗̊͊̒̇̈̒̿̃̽͠m̸̢̰̯͕̰̗̻̺̙̝̮̼̯̘̙̳̟͇͖̳̈́͂̔̄͘͘ͅÿ̴͎̮́̀̾̀̑̈̈̑̓̕ͅ ̷̢̙̦͎̜̤̙͖̲͎̖̞͖̣̝͂̎ͅe̴̡̛̬̲̘͖̥̬͔̤̰̖̣͎͎̤̯̫̓̅̈́̀̽̅̽̽̉̃͆̾̌̓̒͊͘̕͝͠y̶͔̌̇͆̓̾͒̄̇̈́̓͛͑͑̓́͝͝ē̷̬͓̱̈̄̓͛̔̑͌̿̂̊̈̀̇̂̃̃̕͘͘͘ ̵̢̨̢̠͔͈̟̳̳͍̱͉͍͚̗͙̼̠̟͛̓̿̽ò̸̧̝̱͘h̵̼̯̲̺̩̙̬̜̤͇̜̼̦̉̈́̕͝ ̷̢̢̰̰̹̪͓̼̲̟̤̱̳̤͉̓̏̔̀̈́̍̋̑͘͝͝g̴̰̫̻̓̆́͌̄̓̎͐͝͝͝o̵̢̡̯͇̖̪̟̖̳̬̫̩̝̗͍̗̖̗̫̅͒͗̂̈́̋́͘͝d̸̨̢̼͕̮̭̤̥͚͕̪͕̪̦͖̼̙̪̭̠͙͆̋͂͊̒̎̃͝ ̵̢̟̱̜̙͎̟͙̙̲̞̣̼̻̇̒̈́͐̈́͊͒Į̵̠̮̏̌͊̋̈́̄̒͋̚͘͘’̵̡̛̰̺͔̣̫͎͇̻̙͖̞̫̑̿̽͊̑̉̓͌̀̀̄̿͛́͋̚͝͝m̷͓̓̓̽̇̔͆̃̊̆͐̚͘͠͝ ̵̹͇̈͆̋̍̋͒͒̅̉̽͘g̸̨̧̛̗̖͖̹͔͙̰͇̥͓͕̻̯͔̜̬͈͛͑ͅͅō̶̪̳̼͔̘͎̜̽͑̾̾̑̊̋̾̽͌͆͛͋̂͝i̴̛͈̔͐̓̋̐̈́͐̏́͒̽͝͝n̸̨̻͔̬̫̰̻̉̈́̂́̓͗͐̿̈́͒̎̽̎̿̽̚͘g̸̡͙̺̞͖̭͖̃̌̀̌̓̋̐̓̊̌͛̊̀̔̐̇́́̕͝͝ͅ ̴͙̝̞̠̖̭̝̖͋̏̓̈ͅt̵͙͖̗͉͙͔̭̙̫̞̍̽o̴͚̙̫̐̿̾̂̊̂̈́̀̇̍̿͋̚ ̴̧̛͍͍̲̯̺̜̩̦̮̀̐̽̈͂̈́̊̽̂͗̋͐̇͝ḍ̸̡̖̼̯̩̌̈́̅̂̐̎̎̊̓́ͅḯ̸̛̛̩̜̙̱͓̗̞̝̹̘͔͓͉̖̲̺̝̖̑͒̍̈́͑̅̏͒̇́͆͗̀̉̚͜e̸̞̦̖͓̼̦͈͎͚̜͙̻̼͖̤̹͍̗̜͒̃̑
̴̖̩̰̞͔̠̳̗͓̬͇̝̼͙̝̳͕̗͐͛̽̈̉͂͑̂̑͑͑̋́̈͛́̒̚
̸̳̲͖̹͉͙̥̭̔̍̿̈́͊̕
There was a growling in the next room over, guttural and unnatural. Something about it felt deeply wrong. Cherri grabbed her knife and crossbow and slowly opened the door.
There was a wolf man, easily seven feet tall with short, matted hair. He had been growling and shuffling around at first, but as Cherri opened the door, he charged. Cherri shot him through the face and he howled in pain. He tried to scratch at her but she drove her knife into his palm, using the momentum from yanking it out to duck under his guard and slit his throat.
He went down hard, bleeding out on the floor in front of her and slowly reverting back to his human form, the man from the bounty. Well, Cherri wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she got to work.
—
“…And that’s how I killed a werewolf!”
“And you never found out why this old man wanted you to kill his own son?” Graecie asked.
“Well, presumably because he was a werewolf.” 4C pointed out. “I mean, he was clearly dangerous if he attacked you on sight, right Cherri?”
“Exactly. He said his son had changed, presumably that was what he meant.” Cherri yawned and stood up. “Well, I’m getting tired. Y’all ready to turn in?”
There was a collective noise of agreement as the four of them dispersed to various areas of the house to get ready for bed.
The fire was out, and the house was dark. The guests were asleep, Gracie having taken the guest room and 4C having volunteered to sleep on the couch with Blossom the dog. The hosts, however, were still sat awake in bed, a tense silence between them.
Apo spoke up first. “Why did you change the story partway through like that?”
“What do you mean? I told it how it happened.”
“You changed something. You were doing all this buildup towards the fight, then you rewrote the ending last second. Why?”
“I just told a fun story, don’t read into it so much.” Cherri bumped Apo’s shoulder playfully, but their face remained concerned.
“You were all tensed up when you finished.”
“Oh my god, it was just a story! Calm down!”
“Then why are you acting all cagey and aggressive about it?”
“I’m not!”
“You are!”
“I’m not having this argument. Good night, Apo.” Cherri lay down with her back to her partner, staring resolutely at the wall. Apo sighed, then copied her example.
—
There were hands around her throat, huge and hairy and stronger than anything she’d ever experienced. They choked the life from her lungs and dug bloody gashes into her neck with their claws. She choked and gasped for breath, lashing out blindly with her knife at an invisible, unknown enemy. Her blade connected with a sound somewhere between a canine howl and a human scream, guttural and horrifying. Something hit the left side of her face, dragging from scalp to chin. She couldn’t see, everything was black and red and white-hot agony. Something sharp sank into her knife arm, locking on like a bear trap. It shook itself wildly, flinging her into a wall with an explosion of pain and a sickening crack. She could hear it, it was coming for her, it was right there, claws digging into her shoulders and neck, she was going to die here—
Cherri sat up so fast she knocked the blankets completely off of her, panting heavily and holding her arms up protectively in front of her. She stared around the room, only to find it empty. Nothing was there, everything was fine. Cherri felt sick. She slipped out of bed as quietly as she could and ran for the bathroom.
God, she hated vomiting. Her insides burned from the acid, and it left a bad taste in her mouth that just wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tried. She leaned back against the wall with a sigh, it’d been months since a nightmare made her sick like that, she’d thought she was over this!
Everything hurt. The scars across her neck and arms and chest burned and throbbed in time with her heartbeat. She could still taste the salty, sticky fluids from her ruptured eye dripping down her face and into her mouth, still see the slight glint of reddish white bone peaking out from her mangled arm, still feel the pain and effort of every desperate breath through the bruises and cuts around her neck. Cherri threw up again, her entire body trembling with the effort of expelling everything inside it as though somehow the memories would go away with it.
God, she was such an idiot. What the hell did she think was going to happen? She’d just thought… maybe if she could just tell what happened like a fun story, something that wasn’t a big deal, maybe then it wouldn’t feel like one anymore. Maybe she’d stop waking up in a cold sweat, praying she hadn’t woken Apo as she fought to control her breathing. It was a stupid idea, of course. She tried to back out once she realized, once the fear and paranoia started to creep from the corners of her mind like an old enemy, but of course Apo had caught onto her. They were worried about her, of course they were. They were just trying to help, they had no way of knowing that they were only making it worse. Cherri stood up and wiped her mouth, she should really get back to bed.
Apo stirred as Cherri got quietly back into bed, staring up at her through half closed eyes while still half asleep. “…Cherri? Why were you up?”
“I just needed some water, go back to sleep.” Cherri kissed her forehead, and Apo hummed contentedly. “M’kay…”
Cherri stayed as far to her side of the bed as possible. As much as she loved Apo, the idea of someone touching her right now made her feel sick. She stared silently at the door. She already knew she wasn’t going back to sleep tonight.