WHEN TABLES TURN

“Run!” I yelled at Catherine, but even as the word left my mouth, I knew she wouldn’t make it another half hour. Her leg was broken and badly infected, swollen so badly that she could barely put any weight on it. Blood covered her torn jeans, mixing with the dirt and mud from the forest floor. Every few seconds, she tried to drag herself forward, but the pain was too much.

I wanted to go back for her. God, I wanted to. But I knew what would happen if I did. We would both die.

Catherine looked at me, and for a second, I saw the same sad eyes my family had worn before they were torn apart by the creatures we called werewolves. She was crying, but then, strangely, she laughed. It was a bitter, broken sound that made my stomach twist as she looked down at her injured leg.

“Go!” she screamed. “They’re here! They’ll find you!”

I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. “I’m not leaving you!”

“You have to!”

A growl echoed somewhere behind the trees, and Catherine’s expression changed instantly. Fear replaced the sadness in her eyes as she looked at me like she was begging me to understand.

“Where do you think I can go like this?” she shouted. “Look at me, Lucy! I’m as good as dead!”

Another growl came from the darkness, much closer this time. My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared into the forest, trying to see them. I couldn’t.

Catherine grabbed a broken branch and tried to pull herself backward with it, but her injured leg dragged uselessly behind her.

“Go!” she screamed again. “Before they find you too!”

I froze. Every part of me wanted to stay. She was my best friend. She had been beside me for years, through hunger, fear, sickness, sleepless nights, and countless close calls. Catherine had always been there.

But she was right.

There was nothing I could do.

So I ran.

I ran without looking back, branches whipping against my face and scratching my arms as I pushed through the forest. My lungs burned with every breath, but I refused to slow down. Behind me, Catherine screamed, and the sound nearly made me turn around.

Then I heard something crashing through the trees.

The growls became louder.

I kept running.

I told myself that if I stopped, her sacrifice would mean nothing. I told myself I was going to survive. But deep down, I knew the truth. I was simply running away from the sound of my best friend dying.

I ran until I couldn’t hear her screams anymore. The silence that followed was somehow worse.

We shouldn’t have risked it in the first place. We knew the forest was dangerous, but we had been starving for days. We needed food, and desperation had made us careless.

Instead of coming back with something to eat, my best friend had become their dinner.

It was strange how humans were constantly trying to survive only to become food for the creatures hunting us. We ate whatever we could find, hid wherever we could, and ran whenever the werewolves came near. In the end, it felt like we were simply fattening ourselves up for them.

Our deaths were inevitable.

It was only a matter of time before they killed all of us.

I finally reached our hiding spot, exhausted and covered in dirt. As expected, Jake was waiting.

The moment he saw me, his expression changed.

“Where is she?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Where is Catherine?”

He stepped toward me, his face already filled with anger and fear. He knew. Maybe he had known the moment he saw me come back alone.

“Jake—”

“Where is she, Lucy?”

“I’m sorry.”

His hand struck my face before I could react.

The sting spread across my cheek as I stumbled backward. I touched the side of my face and stared at him.

“You left her!” he shouted.

“I had no choice!”

“She was my girlfriend!”

“I know!”

“You were supposed to bring her back!”

His voice cracked on the last word, and I couldn’t defend myself. He was right. I’d gotten his girlfriend killed. Maybe I hadn’t physically killed her, but I had run away while she screamed for help.

And that guilt would probably follow me until the day I died.

If I lived long enough to have one.

Jake lifted his hand again, but before he could hit me, we heard a growl.

Jake slowly lowered his hand.

Neither of us moved.

Another growl followed, and this time it was accompanied by the sound of branches snapping somewhere beyond our hiding place. The forest suddenly felt completely silent. Even the insects seemed to have disappeared.

I turned toward the darkness between the trees.

Two glowing orange eyes appeared.

Then another pair.

Then another.

They stepped out from behind the trees, one after another. Werewolves. Their bodies were massive and covered in dark, matted fur. Their claws dug into the soil as they moved toward us, their mouths hanging open to reveal rows of sharp teeth.

Their orange eyes seemed to glow in the darkness like the eyes of demons.

Jake backed away slowly.

“Lucy…”

“I know.”

There were too many.

We had nowhere to run.

One of them suddenly lunged.

Jake screamed as the creature crashed into him. I heard the horrible crunch of bones before I even understood what had happened. He disappeared beneath the werewolf, his screams becoming louder as the others surrounded him.

I stood frozen.

His screams filled the forest, but my body refused to move. I wanted to close my eyes. I couldn’t.

I watched as the werewolf tore into him, ripping through flesh and bone as if he were nothing more than an animal. Blood stained the ground beneath him, and the smell of it filled the air.

It was like watching a horrifying movie.

Except there was no screen.

No way to turn it off.

No way to escape.

I waited for my turn.

I knew it was coming.

Death had been chasing me for ten years. Eventually, it was going to catch me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the pain.

But the pain never came.

Fear and darkness were the first things I felt when I woke up. Then came the pain.

For several seconds, I didn’t understand why I could still feel anything. I opened my eyes slightly, and pain exploded through my left eye.

“Ah!”

I immediately covered it with my hand. My fingers came away wet, and when I touched my face, I felt dried blood covering my cheek.

They had scratched me.

But why?

Why hadn’t they killed me?

I slowly pushed myself upright. The ground beneath me was cold and hard. Stone. The air smelled damp, almost like the inside of an abandoned building.

I looked around, but there was nothing to see.

No moonlight.

No trees.

No Jake.

No Catherine.

Just darkness.

I tried to stand, but my legs almost gave out beneath me. I caught myself against the floor and waited until the numbness slowly faded from my muscles. When I was finally able to stand properly, I began moving forward with my hands stretched out in front of me.

I walked slowly, terrified of what I might find.

My fingers eventually touched a wall.

I followed it, keeping one hand against the cold stone as I moved through the darkness. A few steps later, my shoulder hit another wall.

I was trapped.

Then my hand brushed against something cold.

Metal bars.

My stomach dropped.

I was in a cell.

A prison cell.

I sank onto the ground and pulled my knees toward my chest. I tried to hold back the tears, but they came anyway.

Why didn’t they just kill me?

It would have been easier.

I’d heard the stories about people captured by werewolves. They didn’t always die immediately. Some became slaves. They were tortured, starved, abused, and eventually killed when their captors grew bored with them.

There were even rumors that some werewolves ate their human prisoners slowly, taking a hand, then a leg, keeping them alive for as long as possible.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I was in hell.

And no one was coming to save me.

Everyone I loved was dead.

My parents.

My friends.

Catherine.

Jake.

Everyone.

“Don’t waste your tears. You’ll need them later.”

I froze.

A man’s voice had come from somewhere in the darkness.

“You’ll need them later because there are worse things to cry about.”

His voice was rough and weak, almost painfully dry. It sounded like he hadn’t had water in days.

I slowly turned toward the sound.

“Who are you?” I asked. My voice shook despite my attempt to sound brave. “Where are we?”

For several seconds, there was no answer.

Then came a terrible cough.

It sounded like the man’s lungs were struggling to work.

“My name is O’zaak,” he finally said. “I’m a scientist.”

I moved closer to the bars.

“Where are we?”

He coughed again before answering.

“I’ve been locked up here for… I don’t know how long. I haven’t seen daylight or any kind of light in ages.”

His voice became quieter.

“We’re in hell.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever heard of an original full-breed lycan?”

I frowned.

“A what?”

“A full-breed lycan.”

He paused, almost as if he was deciding whether telling me was a good idea.

“Werewolves are nothing compared to them.”

I stared into the darkness, trying to make out his face.

“There are only a few of them left,” he continued. “They rarely show themselves, but when they do, people disappear. Entire groups can vanish without anyone knowing what happened.”

My stomach tightened.

“What does that have to do with us?”

“Right now, we’re in one of their territories.”

“Territories?”

“Yes.”

I could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“We’re inside his dungeon.”

I laughed nervously.

“Dungeon? What is this, some kind of castle?”

“I don’t know.”

His answer came immediately.

“But I know one thing. This lycan is royalty.”

I stopped smiling.

“Royalty?”

“He’s a king. Or something close to it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Nothing about them makes sense.”

He coughed again, and for a moment, I wondered if he was going to stop breathing.

“And he’s going to kill us all.”

His words hung in the darkness.

“You’ll wish a werewolf had torn you apart instead.”

I didn’t need his pity.

I crawled into the darkest corner of my cell and wrapped my arms around myself. My mind kept trying to understand how I had gone from running through a forest to being locked inside a dungeon.

But there was something else bothering me.

If the werewolves had captured us, why hadn’t they killed us?

What did they want with us?

I closed my eyes and thought about my old life.

Ten years ago, I had been an ordinary ten-year-old girl. I had parents who loved me, a warm home, friends, and a birthday cake waiting for me. I remember the balloons that decorated our living room. I remember my mother smiling as she carried the cake into the room, and I remember my father laughing as I opened my presents.

I remember thinking that it was the best birthday of my life.

Then everything changed.

A creature crashed through the window.

At first, I didn’t understand what I was looking at. It was too large, too fast, and too terrifying to be real. Then it attacked my father.

My mother screamed.

I crawled beneath the table and covered my mouth with both hands. I was shaking so badly that I thought the creature would hear my teeth knocking together.

I watched my parents die.

The creature tore through them while I hid beneath the tablecloth, completely helpless. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t even scream.

That was the day my childhood ended.

Scientists called it a virus gone wild. Doctors said something had mutated. Governments called it an outbreak. My parents, who were deeply religious, believed it was biblical. They thought the devil had unleashed his demon wolves upon the world.

I didn’t care what anyone called it.

To me, it was simply hell.

I became an orphan on my tenth birthday.

A typical sad story.

Except stories usually end.

Mine never did.

The world outside had become a hunting ground where humans were prey and werewolves were predators. For ten years, I had survived by hiding, running, stealing food, and doing whatever was necessary to stay alive.

But now I was locked inside a dungeon belonging to something even worse.

A full-breed lycan.

For the first time since the apocalypse began, I wondered if surviving had been a mistake.

Then a loud metallic sound echoed through the dungeon.

Clang.

I lifted my head.

O’zaak stopped coughing.

Neither of us spoke.

Footsteps followed.

Slow.

Heavy.

Coming closer.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Someone was walking down the corridor.

I pressed myself against the stone wall, barely breathing. The footsteps grew louder with every second, and something about them made the fear in my stomach spread through my entire body.

“Who is that?” I whispered.

O’zaak didn’t answer.

His silence terrified me more than anything he had said.

The footsteps finally stopped directly outside our cells.

A shadow appeared beneath my cell door.

I held my breath.

Then, slowly, two glowing silver eyes appeared in the darkness.

They were looking directly at me.