Creatures of the Dark Series
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Katarina K.
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Colette got more than she bargained for when she walked into the woods searching for a wolf to take a picture of for her nephew. She merely wanted to be able to say she put in a valid effort. She never meant to find an injured man in an empty cabin in the middle of the woods. But then she gets to know this mystery man. She may have found her wolf after all.
Age Rating: 18+
Chapter 1
There were whispers about giant wolves in the woods behind her house. Creatures as big as horses, even faster. Sheâd spotted their footprints a few times, the enormous size of their paws, but sheâd never actually seen the beasts themselves.
They were like phantoms, neither here nor there, but their howls echoed through the night. Hunters would venture out in groups to find them, but they always came back empty-handed. The wolves hid, almost as if they knew they were being pursued.
Her nephew, aware of where sheâd moved, had excitedly asked her to snap a picture of a wolf for him. A real, live wolf. He was fascinated and truly believed they were out there. Since he was her favorite little person in the world, sheâd made a promise.
His mom, already busy with five other kids, suggested she just print one from the internet, but she couldnât do that. Sheâd made a promise to the little guy, and a promise was a promise.
Whenever she had a moment, sheâd sling her camera over her shoulder and go for a hike. That way, she was keeping her promise. She was searching for them.
She could tell he was disappointed she hadnât found any yet, but the smile on his face when she told him about her latest search was too radiant to describe.
Itâd been a while since sheâd gone on her wolf hunt; she knew it was time. When he asked her the last time she saw him, she couldnât even remember. She just stared at him blankly. It made her feel guilty.
So here she was on her Friday night, trudging through the thick woods with her camera. She usually walked straight for thirty minutes and then turned around when she felt like heading back. It was a routine. It was what sheâd been doing for months.
Except this time, she didnât check the weather. She always checked the weather. This time, she packed her bagâwhat her sister jokingly called âThe Bag of Overly Cautiousââand just left, which landed her in the middle of a snowstorm.
She couldnât have predicted it. It was definitely chilly when she left. After fifteen minutes she realized how much the temperature had plummeted.
With her promise to her nephew at the forefront of her mind, she was determined to go just a few more minutes, but the snow came down in a thick blanket, and she lost her bearings in a matter of minutes.
She tried to turn around, but after walking for over an hour, she realized sheâd gone in the wrong direction. Fear gripped her; her chest tightened.
She considered stopping and waiting. She even tried her phone, but there was no signal. Who knew how long the snow would continue?
But as the sun began to set, she started to question all of her decisions. Her shoes were soaked, and her feet ached from the cold. Her legs were stiff and heavy from trudging through the snow. She regretted leaving her house in the first place.
After hours of walking, she spotted a small cabin ahead. Maybe a hunting cabin. Sheâd thought she was going to collapse in the snow, but the sight of the cabin gave her a small surge of strength.
It was eerie and old, but she was exhausted and really didnât care. It wasnât until she was on the porch and standing in front of the front door that she noticed the door was slightly ajar.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. A shiver ran through her. This time, it was from fear rather than cold.
One quick look behind her and she saw the snow falling heavily. The wind was howling, spraying her in the face and blowing back her hood.
She nodded, making her decision, and slowly pushed open the door.
Complete darkness greeted her. But even in the darkness, she could see the shadow of someone lying in the center of the room.
She swallowed again, fearfully, and stepped inside, shutting the door against the biting cold. It slammed shut, and she was enveloped in darkness, with only the whistling of the wind as company.
She dropped her backpack on the ground and knelt to find her flashlight. She felt around in the fullness of her bag before her hand closed around the thick flashlight.
It turned on after she flipped the switch and gave it a few good taps. The room she stood in was large and empty, except for the massive figure in the center. At the far end of the room was what looked like a kitchen. To the right, a staircase.
âHello,â she whispered to the figure, too scared to shine the flashlight on it. âAre you okay?â she called out.
After a few more minutes of silence, she slowly made her way over.
It was a man. A naked man. He was large and unconscious.
She tried not to let her eyes wander over his body as she knelt beside him. He was tanned, which was odd for anyone who lived here. The sun was never out. His jet-black hair was spread out across the floor, and the metallic smell of blood filled her nostrils.
She let her eyes travel further down his body and found the source of the smell. Huge gashes stretched across his chest, oozing with blood. A puddle had formed around him.
Panic set in. Her eyes widened at the sight. This is what she packed her bag for, so why wasnât she springing into action? She just stood there, watching his wounds bleed, seeing his chest rise and fall too slowly, frozen in time.
Then it passed. She set her flashlight upright so the light filled the entire room and ran to her backpack, dragging it back to his body. She didnât have any professional medical training, just a few classes on wilderness safety, CPR, and basic first aid.
She dumped the contents of her bag onto the floor rather than rummaging through it, and began sorting through her things. First, she grabbed her bag of sterile cloth and pressed it over his wounds, applying pressure for several minutes to stop the bleeding.
When she pulled back after the blood stopped, she could see the damage. They were deep, nearly to the bone, and she could see much of his muscle.
A chill ran through her.
She quickly applied an antibiotic ointment and wrapped his wounds. Now that he was pretty well taken care of, she needed to take care of herself. She was cold to the bone, and her clothes were soaked.
There was a small stack of firewood to the left of the fireplace, and she had a little knowledge of how to start a fire. In a few minutes, she had a small fire going.
While she wanted to just sprawl in front of it like a cat, she was reminded of the man sprawled across the floor behind her. Heâd felt cold to the touch, probably from blood loss.
She stripped off her wet clothes, laying them out to dry. Bare as the day she was born, she hauled the man over to the fire to warm up. Then, she stretched out next to him. Just two strangers, completely naked, sharing the same space.
