Barefoot, Lilith sprinted. Twisted shadows and icy air formed the world around her. Tree branches clawed at her thin nightgown, each one a desperate hand trying to hold her back. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird desperate to escape its cage. Tall, gaunt trees blurred past, standing as silent witnesses under the pale light of the moon. Cold air burned in her lungs, but she pushed on, driven by a force she couldn't ignore.She couldn't stop. Not now.
The sound echoed behind her, growing closer. It wasn't just a howl, but a voice. A voice raw with hunger and laced with warning. The sound traveled through the earth, vibrating up through the roots of the trees, into her bones. It stirred a memory, distant and unnamed, something just beyond her grasp.
She was running from something, that much she knew.
Yet, a part of her felt like she was running toward it, drawn by an irresistible pull.
Suddenly, a flash of silver broke through the mist ahead. A glimpse of fur. Then, eyes. Bright, inhuman eyes met hers for a terrifying moment. Her foot snagged on a gnarled root. She fell hard, the air whooshing from her lungs as she hit the damp ground. Dirt and blood filled her mouth.
And then... silence.
The entire forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
She turned her head slowly, her heart pounding, and saw it through a thin veil of fog: the wolf.
It was huge, standing still, its presence radiating power. Its eyes weren't just silver, they seemed to glow from within, burning with an ancient, wild light. It didn't move, didn't snarl. The creature simply stared, its gaze piercing and intense.
Lilith wanted to scream or rather, needed to scream but the sound was trapped in her throat, a blade of ice lodged there.
She blinked once, twice
And it was gone, vanished into the mist as if it had never been there.
Lilith shot up in bed, her scream dying in her throat, caught between dream and reality. Her room felt small. The walls seemed to close in around her, heavy with shadows. Sweat soaked her nightgown, and her fingers were clenched so tightly in the blankets that her knuckles ached.
The dream was already fading, slipping away like smoke.
But her body remembered. Oh, it remembered.
Every muscle screamed in protest. Her calves throbbed as if she had run for miles. Her shoulder felt bruised, as if she had taken a hard fall. Her lungs still burned from the icy air. She threw back the covers and stared down at her feet in disbelief.
They were covered in dirt, smudged with damp earth.
A thin, red scratch marked her ankle, fresh and raw.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her heart hammering. The wooden floor was cold beneath her bare feet. When she touched the moonstone pendant, which her late mother had left her, it burned her skin like a hot iron. It wasn't a feeling or a thought it was real.
With a hiss of pain, she yanked the pendant off and tossed it onto her desk. Her breath came in ragged gasps.
Was she sleepwalking? Could that be the answer?
No, it couldn't be. She never left her bed at night. Not since the fire. Not since the screams that still echoed in her memory.
She pressed her palm to her chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of her heart beneath her hand.
The forest was inside her now, a part of her soul, wild and untamed.
The house was silent as she crept downstairs. A wrong kind of quiet, the kind that made you check the dark corners of rooms you've known all your life.
The kitchen smelled of old wood, burnt coffee, and lingering ash. Father Gabriel stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot. As always, his back was to her. He rarely turned to face her unless she forced him to. The silence between them wasn't cruel, just old, worn thin with time, patched with unspoken secrets.
I had the dream again, she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't answer, didn't even acknowledge her. He simply stirred the burnt coffee, round and round.
It's different this time. She stepped closer, her bare feet silent on the cold floor. I woke up with dirt on my feet.
Still, he said nothing. He avoided her gaze, busying himself with the coffee.
Something's happening to me, Father. Her voice trembled, betraying her fear.
He finally turned.
His face was etched with a weariness only seen in men who have buried too many truths. His hair, once thick and black, was now streaked with silver at the temples. Deep lines framed his mouth, testament to years of unspoken sorrow. He looked at her as if she was a child playing with a dangerous flame ready to ignite everything nearby into ashes.
You should stay away from the woods, Lilith, he said, his voice low and grave. Whatever it is that calls to you there... it's not meant for you.
Lilith's jaw tightened, a spark of defiance flashing in her eyes. That's the problem, Father. I think it is.
He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand across his tired face. Dreams aren't prophecy, Lilith. They're just shadows, reflections of what we fear.
I don't fear it, she said quietly, her voice filled with a strange certainty. I know it.
A flicker of something crossed his face, something between sadness and alarm. The corner of his mouth twitched.
I'll bless your room, he offered, his voice flat. It sometimes helps, you know.
But they both knew it wouldn't. Prayers and blessings were useless against the force that was awakening within her.
The day passed like a ghost, slow and transparent.
At school, Lilith barely registered her surroundings. The hallways, packed with students and lined with lockers, felt thin, less real. People talked around her, through her, but she was elsewhere. She was stuck somewhere between the world of waking and the world of dreams, somewhere between flesh and fog.
By midday, her hands trembled with a chill that no amount of clothing could ward off.
Her best friend, Mae, noticed her strange behavior and gently asked if she was okay. Lilith lied, as she always did, telling her everything was fine. What could she say anyway? How could she explain the inexplicable?
I think I ran through the forest in my sleep, Mae. I think a wolf is chasing me, or maybe guiding me. I think something is waking up inside me, and it's hungry.
Instead, she sat alone during lunch, doodling strange symbols in the corner of her notebook. Spiral moons. Eyes filled with sharp teeth. Trees that bled.
Dusk settled early that evening, blanketing the village in a cold, clinging mist. The sun slipped below the horizon like a closing eye, and Lilith found herself standing at the edge of the forest, drawn there by an unseen force.
The trees loomed tall and silent, their trunks black with moisture, their limbs twisted like reaching hands. Fog snaked between them in slow, deliberate coils. The wind whistled low, a haunting hum that almost sounded familiar.
The pendant in her pocket pulsed warm.
She didn't step forward, not yet, but she didn't run either. Something held her rooted to the spot, her heart pounding in anticipation.
Then, like a whisper through her bones, it came again.
A howl.
Distant. Hollow. Painful.
But it wasn't just sound. It was a call. A summoning. It coiled down her spine, settled behind her heart like grief. And for one terrifying, inexplicable moment... she felt herself wanting to answer it.
She took a trembling breath and looked up at the ridge above the treeline.
There, standing silhouetted against the fading light, was a figure.
Too still to be human. Too tall to be a wolf.
Her breath caught in her throat. She felt a strange mixture of fear and recognition.
Silver eyes blinked once, slowly, their gaze so intense that she felt it like a brand on her skin.
She blinked
He was gone.
Back in her room, she locked the window and sat huddled beneath the covers, moonlight spilling across the floorboards like liquid frost. She didn't sleep.
Not because she was afraid of the dream.
But because she wasn't sure she wanted to wake from it anymore.
Barefoot, Lilith sprinted. Twisted shadows and icy air formed the world around her. Tree branches clawed at her thin nightgown, each one a desperate hand trying to hold her back. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird desperate to escape its cage. Tall, gaunt trees blurred past, standing as silent witnesses under the pale light of the moon. Cold air burned in her lungs, but she pushed on, driven by a force she couldn't ignore.She couldn't stop. Not now.
The sound echoed behind her, growing closer. It wasn't just a howl, but a voice. A voice raw with hunger and laced with warning. The sound traveled through the earth, vibrating up through the roots of the trees, into her bones. It stirred a memory, distant and unnamed, something just beyond her grasp.
She was running from something, that much she knew.
Yet, a part of her felt like she was running toward it, drawn by an irresistible pull.
Suddenly, a flash of silver broke through the mist ahead. A glimpse of fur. Then, eyes. Bright, inhuman eyes met hers for a terrifying moment. Her foot snagged on a gnarled root. She fell hard, the air whooshing from her lungs as she hit the damp ground. Dirt and blood filled her mouth.
And then... silence.
The entire forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
She turned her head slowly, her heart pounding, and saw it through a thin veil of fog: the wolf.
It was huge, standing still, its presence radiating power. Its eyes weren't just silver, they seemed to glow from within, burning with an ancient, wild light. It didn't move, didn't snarl. The creature simply stared, its gaze piercing and intense.
Lilith wanted to scream or rather, needed to scream but the sound was trapped in her throat, a blade of ice lodged there.
She blinked once, twice
And it was gone, vanished into the mist as if it had never been there.
Lilith shot up in bed, her scream dying in her throat, caught between dream and reality. Her room felt small. The walls seemed to close in around her, heavy with shadows. Sweat soaked her nightgown, and her fingers were clenched so tightly in the blankets that her knuckles ached.
The dream was already fading, slipping away like smoke.
But her body remembered. Oh, it remembered.
Every muscle screamed in protest. Her calves throbbed as if she had run for miles. Her shoulder felt bruised, as if she had taken a hard fall. Her lungs still burned from the icy air. She threw back the covers and stared down at her feet in disbelief.
They were covered in dirt, smudged with damp earth.
A thin, red scratch marked her ankle, fresh and raw.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her heart hammering. The wooden floor was cold beneath her bare feet. When she touched the moonstone pendant, which her late mother had left her, it burned her skin like a hot iron. It wasn't a feeling or a thought it was real.
With a hiss of pain, she yanked the pendant off and tossed it onto her desk. Her breath came in ragged gasps.
Was she sleepwalking? Could that be the answer?
No, it couldn't be. She never left her bed at night. Not since the fire. Not since the screams that still echoed in her memory.
She pressed her palm to her chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of her heart beneath her hand.
The forest was inside her now, a part of her soul, wild and untamed.
The house was silent as she crept downstairs. A wrong kind of quiet, the kind that made you check the dark corners of rooms you've known all your life.
The kitchen smelled of old wood, burnt coffee, and lingering ash. Father Gabriel stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot. As always, his back was to her. He rarely turned to face her unless she forced him to. The silence between them wasn't cruel, just old, worn thin with time, patched with unspoken secrets.
I had the dream again, she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't answer, didn't even acknowledge her. He simply stirred the burnt coffee, round and round.
It's different this time. She stepped closer, her bare feet silent on the cold floor. I woke up with dirt on my feet.
Still, he said nothing. He avoided her gaze, busying himself with the coffee.
Something's happening to me, Father. Her voice trembled, betraying her fear.
He finally turned.
His face was etched with a weariness only seen in men who have buried too many truths. His hair, once thick and black, was now streaked with silver at the temples. Deep lines framed his mouth, testament to years of unspoken sorrow. He looked at her as if she was a child playing with a dangerous flame ready to ignite everything nearby into ashes.
You should stay away from the woods, Lilith, he said, his voice low and grave. Whatever it is that calls to you there... it's not meant for you.
Lilith's jaw tightened, a spark of defiance flashing in her eyes. That's the problem, Father. I think it is.
He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand across his tired face. Dreams aren't prophecy, Lilith. They're just shadows, reflections of what we fear.
I don't fear it, she said quietly, her voice filled with a strange certainty. I know it.
A flicker of something crossed his face, something between sadness and alarm. The corner of his mouth twitched.
I'll bless your room, he offered, his voice flat. It sometimes helps, you know.
But they both knew it wouldn't. Prayers and blessings were useless against the force that was awakening within her.
The day passed like a ghost, slow and transparent.
At school, Lilith barely registered her surroundings. The hallways, packed with students and lined with lockers, felt thin, less real. People talked around her, through her, but she was elsewhere. She was stuck somewhere between the world of waking and the world of dreams, somewhere between flesh and fog.
By midday, her hands trembled with a chill that no amount of clothing could ward off.
Her best friend, Mae, noticed her strange behavior and gently asked if she was okay. Lilith lied, as she always did, telling her everything was fine. What could she say anyway? How could she explain the inexplicable?
I think I ran through the forest in my sleep, Mae. I think a wolf is chasing me, or maybe guiding me. I think something is waking up inside me, and it's hungry.
Instead, she sat alone during lunch, doodling strange symbols in the corner of her notebook. Spiral moons. Eyes filled with sharp teeth. Trees that bled.
Dusk settled early that evening, blanketing the village in a cold, clinging mist. The sun slipped below the horizon like a closing eye, and Lilith found herself standing at the edge of the forest, drawn there by an unseen force.
The trees loomed tall and silent, their trunks black with moisture, their limbs twisted like reaching hands. Fog snaked between them in slow, deliberate coils. The wind whistled low, a haunting hum that almost sounded familiar.
The pendant in her pocket pulsed warm.
She didn't step forward, not yet, but she didn't run either. Something held her rooted to the spot, her heart pounding in anticipation.
Then, like a whisper through her bones, it came again.
A howl.
Distant. Hollow. Painful.
But it wasn't just sound. It was a call. A summoning. It coiled down her spine, settled behind her heart like grief. And for one terrifying, inexplicable moment... she felt herself wanting to answer it.
She took a trembling breath and looked up at the ridge above the treeline.
There, standing silhouetted against the fading light, was a figure.
Too still to be human. Too tall to be a wolf.
Her breath caught in her throat. She felt a strange mixture of fear and recognition.
Silver eyes blinked once, slowly, their gaze so intense that she felt it like a brand on her skin.
She blinked
He was gone
Back in her room, she locked the window and sat huddled beneath the covers, moonlight spilling across the floorboards like liquid frost. She didn't sleep.
Not because she was afraid of the dream.
But because she wasn't sure she wanted to wake from it anymore.