Embry Call

You and Embry had been together since the end of middle school. You knew his friends; he knew yours. Everything was good—solid, easy, the kind of thing you thought would just keep going. Nothing felt like it could get in the way.

But then it happened.

Four months later—maybe less—he vanished. No calls, no texts. He stopped showing up to high school. His mom wouldn’t pick up when you called. Sam and the others clammed up, giving you nothing but vague silences and sideways looks. Like Embry was suddenly off-limits. Like you didn’t exist anymore. Like you weren’t supposed to reach out.

You didn’t understand. He didn’t even say goodbye—just disappeared, as if he’d never been there at all. And the only thing his friends would tell you was: “He’s different now.”

Time passed, but the unknown didn’t get easier. It sat in your chest, heavy and unfinished.

And now you’re walking through the woods. Deep in, but careful—you remember Charlie’s stories, the police warnings, all the talk about bears around here. You just needed to cut through to the road that leads back home. But something feels off. You’re not alone.

Vampires? Yeah, they’re real—you know that now. But this isn’t that. The ground is trembling under something massive. You keep walking, trying to ignore it, and then—almost colliding with it—you see it.

A wolf.

But not a normal wolf. Normal wolves are small. This one is horse-sized. Its eyes lock onto yours, and you freeze. There’s recognition in that gaze—it knows you.

But you don’t recognize it. Not like this. Not in the body of some enormous animal standing sideways, looking down at you with something almost human behind its eyes.