Midnight Howling Book 1

Chapter 4: Bloody Waters

The wolf stared at Lyra with blood-red eyes, glowing like embers in the shadows of the mountain forest. Her heart pounded, slamming against her ribs as if trying to break free from her chest. She could feel its heat, the wildness radiating from it like a living thing. Lyra's breath hitched, sharp and quick, as every instinct in her body screamed at her to run, but her feet refused to move. She knew, deep down, that looking away, turning her back, would seal her fate. If she moved too soon, the beast would pounce.

There she stood, locked in a terrifying standoff with the monstrous wolf, its low growl rumbling in the stillness, vibrating through the earth beneath her. The sound crawled up her spine, sending a wave of fear through her that threatened to paralyze her. Her legs trembled, barely holding her weight as the wolf took a slow, deliberate step toward her, its massive body emerging from the cover of the trees.

It was bigger than any wolf she had ever seen. Its fur was a filthy, matted mess, once gray but now caked with dirt and debris, adding to its feral appearance. Drool dripped from its snarling mouth, glistening in the faint moonlight, and its sharp teeth flashed as it snapped its jaws, taunting her. Lyra stumbled back a step, her body acting before her mind could catch up.

She tried to steady herself, her hands trembling as she slowly circled to the right, hoping to maneuver around the wolf. Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, fear gripping her throat like a vice. The wolf mirrored her movements, its eyes never leaving hers, watching her with cruel amusement. It was playing with her—relishing her fear, savoring every second of her growing desperation.

Her mind raced. She needed a way out, but everywhere she looked was blocked by trees or rock walls, trapping her in this nightmare. Her gaze darted behind the wolf, and there—a narrow gap between two rock faces. It wasn't much, but it was her only chance. If she was fast enough, if she could disorient the beast, maybe she could make it through that opening and get away.

Summoning every ounce of courage, Lyra shifted her weight, readying herself. She locked eyes with the wolf one last time, its growls deepening as it lowered its head, ready to spring. With a ragged breath, she launched herself forward, pushing off with all her strength.

"RRAAAHHHH!!" Lyra screamed, the sound tearing from her throat, filled with fear and adrenaline.

The wolf flinched, caught off guard by her sudden charge, and leaped back just enough for her to barrel past it. Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran, her muscles burning as she sprinted for the gap in the rocks. The snarls behind her grew louder, filled with rage, as the wolf gave chase. She didn't dare look back.

She squeezed through the narrow opening, the sharp rock scraping against her sides, and stumbled into a narrow passage. Her breath came in desperate gasps as she ran, her legs moving on pure survival instinct. The path opened up, revealing a ledge just ahead, and she could hear the beast crashing through the trees behind her, closing the distance.

Without a second thought, Lyra threw herself over the edge, the ground vanishing beneath her as she plummeted toward the icy blue lake below. The wind howled in her ears, the rush of cold air stealing her breath before the water hit.

The freezing water consumed her, the shock of it stealing the breath from her lungs. It felt like a thousand needles stabbing into her skin as the icy depths swallowed her whole. She thrashed, fighting against the current as her lungs screamed for air. Every inch of her body ached, the cold mixing with the pain from her injuries, but her survival instincts kicked in.

She kicked harder, her arms pulling through the water as she searched for the surface. Her vision blurred as the pressure built in her chest. Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she broke through, gasping for air as the cold air stung her lungs.

Lyra's eyes darted to the shore, her mind racing as she scanned for any sign of the wolf. Surely, it wouldn't have followed her over the cliff—no animal could be that reckless.

Suddenly, a loud splash sounded behind her, the noise reverberating through the still water.

Lyra turned, her heart seizing in her chest as she saw the massive form of the wolf break through the surface. Its glowing red eyes locked onto hers, its matted fur slick with water, and it let out a bone-chilling snarl. What kind of creature is this?! Her mind screamed as panic surged through her veins.

She turned and swam for the shore with everything she had, her limbs burning with exhaustion. The wolf was a faster swimmer, but she had a head start. She could make it. She had to make it.

The shore grew closer, but Lyra's strength was fading fast. The cold had sapped her energy, her muscles screamed in protest, but she couldn't stop—not now. Her feet finally touched the muddy bottom, and she stumbled forward, dragging herself through the thick muck, her breath ragged and uneven. Every inch was a battle, but she kept moving.

Just as she reached the edge of the mud, a crushing weight slammed into her back, knocking her face-first into the dirt. Her scream was muffled by the ground, but the pain was all too real. Sharp claws dug into her shoulder, and her body convulsed in agony. The wolf's hot breath was on the back of her neck, its growls vibrating through her bones.

The world narrowed to the pain in her shoulder and the sound of her own desperate screams. She kicked out, trying to fight, but the wolf was too strong. Its massive jaws clamped down on her left arm, the pain blinding as it dragged her away from the water, deeper into the forest.

Lyra's vision blurred as tears filled her eyes, her body trembling. But something inside her snapped. This couldn't be the end. She wouldn't let it. With a primal scream, she reached up with her free hand, driving her thumb into the wolf's eye with all the strength she could muster.

The wolf howled in agony, releasing her arm as it recoiled, yelping and thrashing in pain. Lyra didn't waste a second. She scrambled to her feet, blood pouring from her wounds, and staggered back toward the water.

She threw herself into the lake again, her injured arm useless, but she kicked her legs, pushing herself just far enough out that she could stand. The cold water numbed the searing pain, and for a fleeting moment, she felt victorious.

But that victory was short-lived.

The water around her was turning dark, the red of her blood spreading in the icy blue lake. The world tilted, her body weakening with every second. On the shore, the wolf pawed at its injured eye, snarling and snapping, but Lyra barely registered it anymore.

She was too tired. Too cold. Too hurt.

Lyra floated on her back, staring up at the night sky. The stars were so bright, so peaceful. She hadn't looked at them in so long. For a moment, all the pain, all the fear melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of calm.

The snarling of the wolf faded into the background, drowned out by the gentle lapping of the water and the soft whisper of the wind. Something else was moving toward her, something entering the water, but she didn't care anymore.

As the world darkened, the last thing she saw was the moon, and the last sound she heard was the haunting echo of distant howls.