The claw tore through the door like the wood was wet paper. Splinters shot across the floor. John shoved me back so fast I almost fell. Addison screamed and ducked behind the kitchen counter, and the creature outside let out a low growl that vibrated through the entire frame.
The hand—or whatever it was—groped around the broken hole, searching. Three long, curved claws scraped the wood. The arm was massive, covered in thick, dark fur that stuck to the edges of the splintered door.
John grabbed my wrist. "Move!"
He didn't wait for my response. He yanked me down the hallway. The creature hit the door again. The entire cottage shook. Another blow would push the frame off the hinges.
"What is that thing?" I yelled, my voice breaking.
"Don't look back," John snapped. "Just move!"
Addison scrambled to her feet and ran behind us. The creature slammed into the door a third time, and the cracks webbed across the remaining wood.
I risked a glance. The door bowed so far inward I could see the shadow behind it—tall, hunched, wide enough to fill the whole entrance. Yellow light glinted where eyes should be.
John dragged me toward the back of the house and flung open the narrow storage room door.
"Inside."
"We'll be trapped," I argued.
"Inside," he repeated.
The sound of splintering wood cut through the hall. I dove into the storage room just as the front door gave way completely. Addison squeezed in behind me, and John slammed the door shut, bracing it with his shoulder.
The creature entered the cottage.
Floorboards groaned under its weight. Every step sounded like someone dropping a tree trunk onto the floor. Heavy. Slow. Confident.
It wasn't rushing. It didn't need to. It knew we were here.
Addison clutched my arm, nails digging through my sleeve. She was whispering something under her breath—fast, shaky—like a prayer she didn't want heard.
John held the door with both hands, jaw tight, muscles straining. "Stay quiet."
A long sniffing sound drifted through the hallway. Deep. Wet. It made my stomach twist.
It was smelling for us.
Something huge brushed the wall outside. Shadows shifted under the doorframe, blocking the light.
Addison's breath hitched. I clamped a hand over her mouth before she made another sound.
The creature paused.
Then it leaned closer.
A low growl rumbled right outside the storage door. The floor vibrated with it. The creature sniffed again, and its claws dragged lightly over the wood.
John whispered, "Don't move. Don't breathe."
We held still. Completely still.
The sniffing stopped.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then—
A violent crash slammed into the storage door. Shelves rattled. Tools fell to the floor. Dust rained from the ceiling. Addison gasped against my hand, eyes wide with terror.
John grunted, forcing his weight against the door to keep it closed.
The creature hit it again. Harder. The hinges screeched.
"It's coming through," I whispered.
"Not if we leave first," John said.
"Leave where?" Addison hissed.
He nodded at the tiny window in the corner of the room. It was barely big enough to crawl through, but it was our only chance.
"Go," John said. "Both of you."
"What about you?" I asked.
"I'll hold it."
"You can't fight that thing—!"
"It's not about fighting." His voice dropped. "It's about buying time."
The creature slammed into the door again. The top hinge popped loose, hanging by a single screw.
Addison climbed onto a crate and shoved the window open, cold air rushing in. She scrambled through first, tumbling into the grass outside.
I hesitated.
John noticed. "Don't argue with me. Go."
I climbed onto the crate. The creature struck the door so hard the frame cracked. John's knees buckled, but he forced himself upright, pushing with everything he had.
I slipped through the window, dropped into the backyard, and Addison grabbed my arm to steady me.
"Run," she whispered.
I looked back at the window. "John!"
Another thunderous blow hit the door. Wood shattered. John yelled, straining against the force behind it.
"Go!" he shouted.
I turned and ran.
Addison kept pace beside me as we sprinted across the yard toward the tree line. The forest loomed closer with every step, darkness pooling between the trunks.
"Where are we going?" I panted.
"Anywhere but here!" Addison said.
Behind us—
A roar exploded through the cottage, so loud it shook the ground.
We didn't look back.
Branches whipped at our clothes as we crossed the tree line. The woods swallowed us fast. Light dimmed. The air grew colder. Every rustle sounded like footsteps.
We ran until my lungs burned and my legs felt ready to collapse. Finally, Addison pulled me behind a cluster of thick pines. We crouched in the shadows, gasping for breath.
"I can't… believe… that thing…" I wheezed.
"It's not supposed to come this close to town," Addison whispered. "It only does when—"
"When what?"
Addison swallowed. "When someone is marked."
The same word John had used. Marked. Claimed.
"Why me?" I asked again, voice shaking. "What makes me so special?"
Her expression flickered with guilt. "I don't think this is about you."
The forest shifted.
A deep, rumbling noise echoed through the trees. Not quite a growl. Not quite a roar. Something in between.
Addison grabbed my wrist. "We need to keep moving."
We crept deeper between the trees. The forest floor felt uneven, roots twisting under our feet like they were trying to trip us. Shadows stretched across the ground, long and distorted.
"Addison," I whispered, "I need answers."
"I know," she said. "And I'll tell you. But not here. Not with that thing loose."
Branches snapped somewhere behind us.
We froze.
This time, the sound wasn't heavy. Or slow.
It was fast.
Too fast.
Addison's eyes widened. "We're not alone."
I turned toward the sound, heart pounding.
A figure moved through the trees. Not huge like the creature. Not hunched. Upright. Steady.
Human.
I exhaled in relief. "John."
But Addison's face went pale.
"That's not him."
The figure stepped out from behind the tree.
Tall. Male. Familiar face.
But wrong.
His skin was too pale. His eyes too dark. His movements too smooth, like he was copying a person instead of being one.
And he was smiling at me.
A slow, sharp smile that didn't look human at all.
"Found you," he whispered.