Monster High: A New Start (Male Reader)

Freight or Fight

The moon, a delicately arched crescent, was weeks away from being full. It was not time to hide. She was not transforming. Her monthly battle with rapid hair growth, insatiable hunger, and extreme irritability was not the issue. Still, Clawdeen Wolf was in a dark ravine, running for her life.

Clawdeen: Slow down!

She barked at the five athletic J.Crew catalog–worthy guys who formed a protective rhombus around her as they charged, panting, through the woods. Their mud-stained construction boots pounded the twig-covered earth with tireless determination. Not a minute passed without one of them vowing to keep Clawdeen safe, pledging to sacrifice his life for hers. It would have been extremely sweet, romantic, even, if they were contestants on The Bachelorette. But since they were her brothers, it was getting super annoying.

Clawdeen: My feet are killing me!

Howldon, aka Don, the oldest triplet by sixty-eight seconds, peered over his shoulder and looked down, fixing his orange-brown eyes on Clawdeen’s pointy-toed gold ankle boots.

Don: I’d kill you too if you stuffed me into those things.

He turned to face the thicket ahead.

Don: It’s like the shoemaker only made room for one toe.

Howie, the middle triplet, snickered. If Howleen, or Leena, the youngest triplet, had been there, she would have seen Don’s insult and doubled it. Leena, whose nickname rhymed with mean-a for a reason, had boot issues of her own, thanks to Arrowhead Boot Camp. While Clawdeen suffered from blisters, Leena’s pain came from a drill sergeant, five AM whistles, and group meetings about anger management. Ahhhh…just thinking about her certifiable sister’s yearlong sentence brought relief.

Clawdeen: They didn’t come from a shoemaker! They were designed by L.A.M.B.

Clawnor: Is that why you’re running so baaaaaaaad?

His nickname was Nino because he tended to be “windy,” like El Niño.

The Wolf brothers laughed.

Clawdeen: What’s your excuse?

But she already knew. Her sensitive canine ears heard the curses Nino muttered every time he ran into a branch.

Now thirteen, her youngest brother’s fur was coming in fast. Nino’s bushy brows, sideburns, and tangles of black hair undulated in front of his dark eyes like sea grass. It was nothing a bobby pin or styling products couldn’t fix, but Nino refused. He had waited all his life for big-boy fur and wasn’t about to let a few thwacks in the face bully him back to baldness.

Clawdeen: Owie.

Clawdeen whimpered. The sting of a heel rubbed raw slowed her sprint to a gallop. Is it hard to get blood out of leather? If only Draculaura were here. She’d know. But none of her friends were around. That was the problem....well, one of them.

Rocks: Keep moving, Clawdeen.

Rocks ended up grabbing her wrist to pull her along. Leaves and long shadows blurred into bands of darkness.

Rocks: We’re almost there.

Clawdeen: This is so stupid.

She limp-ran, holding up her purple halter dress.

Clawdeen: We don’t even know if anyone is chasing us and.....

Rocks: No, what’s stupid is a girl running in lamb’s boots. They were obviously made for hooves, not toes.

The boys howled with laughter. Clawdeen might have chuckled too if her feet weren’t throbbing like techno. Instead, Rocks’s insane remark became an excuse to stop running and glare at him.