The Last Of The Lost

"MOM! CHARLIE! CHARLES!"

As I ran, I kept shouting those three names in my heart with all my might. However, my voice could not be heard by anyone because my throat was choked and my lips were too stiff to open.

Luckily, the road I was on had become solid and formed a winding path, unlike the surroundings which were still moist soil and bushes. The big trees that became the pillars of the forest had been marked since the first time I was invited to look for firewood so that I wouldn't get lost when going in and out of the forest, as if I knew this day would come.

A few moments ago, the forest was still quiet. The sun was barely visible because it was already dusk. There was only the sound of birds dominating, accompanying me with their songs about how bright the day was. Until a sudden echoing sound filled the forest. I immediately stopped breaking branches and put my ears wide, ready for the second sound.

Unexpectedly, the next sound was a faint scream. The source was none other than my house, our house, which was at the edge of the forest. Although I wasn't sure, I chose to confirm it right away. I left all the wood I had collected and ran as fast as I could.

Less than halfway through the trek, I suddenly heard the echoing sound again. But this time it was clearer, and I could even catch a few words in what I heard. It was similar to a song. Unfortunately, it seemed like the lyrics were in a foreign language and I didn't have time to memorize them. My mind was in turmoil when I saw an orange shadow behind the bushes. I felt my tears fall and I jumped off the bushes without hesitation, letting my body fall on the hard ground covered with weeds.

I looked up and was shocked to see that my shack had been consumed by fire. Before I had time to wonder about the whereabouts of my mother and two younger siblings, a few meters in front of me, my mother lay face down covered in blood. Tears immediately flowed from my eyes and before I could move closer, a large black shadow appeared from behind the burnt-out shack.

My breath caught in my throat as I saw it. It was so tall and huge when it moved, revealing its entire body down to its tail. It was probably the biggest wolf I had ever seen. Its height when it was walking alone was almost as big as the burning shack house beside it.

I didn't dare to breathe. Just short inhales and small exhales, I was worried that he would realize my presence by the sound of my breathing. I forgot that wolves have something sharper than their ears, namely their eyes and nose. I'm sure his eyes aren't blind and his nose is still functioning very well.

Evidently, we met each other's eyes for a moment. His eyes were as blue as the ocean and I realized that his fur was not completely black. There was a white section running from his mouth to the bottom of his stomach. He was too big for a wolf. I was sure he was a werewolf. Some people in the village had warned us about werewolves when we decided to live at the edge of the forest, but we had ignored them.

The werewolf walked closer to my mother. I shook my head at him with a pleading look while shedding tears, hoping that he wouldn't come near my mother. Silly me, not thinking about what if he turned on me.

The wolf didn't listen. It kept coming closer to my mother and started licking her bloody back. This was a horrible sight for a 15-year-old girl like me to see. On my birthday, I saw the werewolf licking and savoring my mother's blood, while I could only stand by.

6 meters away from my mother, I cried like a baby and made no sound. My crying stopped when the werewolf stopped licking my mother and he started sniffing with his nose. But that didn't last long as he had turned his gaze to me, as if to say that I was his next target.

With what strength and courage I had left, I hurriedly got up and intended to run away. But just as I was about to take a step, I immediately fell down. Apparently I had sprained my right leg. I'm sure it was because I didn't land properly when I jumped earlier. The signs of my death were complete. There was no one and I couldn't save myself. I thought it was time for me to leave the world. At the age of 15, in front of my mother, without knowing if she was still alive or not, without knowing the whereabouts of my two younger siblings and my father.

I needed to be ready to face death. The big wolf walked towards me, circling around my mother's body. I half-lying on the ground while slowly moving backward with the help of my two hands. With one blink, the wolf was right in front of me. My face was less than an inch away from its nose. I could see its twitching nose and feel its breath.

The wolf then looked down and licked my knee, which was bleeding from the rough landing. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes tightly as his tongue touched my wound. I should be ready for the next one, probably a bite.

I was so focused on closing my eyes and preparing myself for the pain I would probably feel moments before death came, that I didn't notice that the wet tongue was no longer licking my wound. Soon I opened my eyes and didn't see the wolf anywhere.

As I looked around, there was only me and my misfortune. I quickly got up and forced myself to run over to my mother, ignoring the pain in my leg that would probably leave me unable to walk for several months.

I turned my mother's body around and saw her terrified face. Her skin color was so pale, as if there was no more blood left in her body.

"Mom... Please... I am Anne. Open your eyes. So sorry I'm late. Please open your eyes, mom. I'm begging you..." , I whimpered between my sobs.

I put two fingers on her neck, and I couldn't feel a pulse. There was only cold skin.

I sobbed until I couldn't make a sound anymore, looking around hoping that someone would pass by and help me. But all I saw was the appearance of a hand from the other side of the hut. With the hope and energy I had left, I once again forced myself to run, hoping I wouldn't be a second too late.

Fear gnawed at me as I got closer and realized it was my father's left hand from the absence of an index finger. The father who was willing to lose his index finger to build this shack for us. The father who promised to buy a sheep for my birthday. The father who should be in the village right now for buying a sheep. The father who never heard how much I admired and loved him. My father.

Swallowing hard my fear, I took a step, to look at my father's body.

My legs became weak and I fell to the ground. I didn't find my father's body. There was only his left hand and I still can't find my two younger siblings.