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An insistent buzzing in her ears pulled Darcy from her sleep. She blinked slowly at the dark of her bedroom, feeling cool air brush over her sweat-soaked skin. As her vision came into focus, she noticed multiple things: one) the air was thick with the scent of iron, sweat, fear, and the stench of death; and two) those two spots of milky light across the room weren't a streetlight's light shining onto the wall from outside.
They were eyes.
Eyes that stared, unblinking and emotionless, at her.
Darcy blinked again and became aware of the shallow breaths she pulled from the air, the exertion in her limbs, and the pain scattered across her body. She hadn't woken up in her bed, and when she looked around, the moonlight provided a clear view of the bus she stood in.
Stuffing spilled out of torn bus seats like the insides of a ravaged animal, and blood glistened across almost every surface, right up to the back of the bus where the Beast of Gevaudan stared down the aisle at her. To her right was the bus driver's seat, a mess of torn polyester and stained-red stuffing. To her left, glass glistened on the ground beneath a set of mangled bus doors that looked like something large had forced its way through them. Behind her sounded multiple heartbeats, fast and strong, paired with the source of the fear she could smell in the air.
Darcy let out a heavy exhale through an open mouth.
The Beast of Gevaudan tracked this movement, head tilting sideways as if studying her, waiting for her next move.
She took a deep breath in and said on her next exhale, "You can't have them."
The Beast's head snapped upright, and it snarled at her, lips pulling back to reveal teeth that dripped red onto its chin. Before Darcy could brace herself, it suddenly roared and turned its back to her, muscle flexing as it reached down and grabbed something. A sick squelching sound filled the air, and it took Darcy a moment to realize what the sound was.
She was suddenly thankful its massive body blocked most of her view of the bisected body now hanging from its hands. Bile burned at her throat as the thick smell of iron grew even stronger.
A sniffle, a shaky gasp, and the sudden stench of urine from behind drew Darcy's attention back to those who had survived. Pivoting on one foot with hands outstretched, she turned to face the familiar faces of some Beacon Hills faculty members.
They stared back at her, eyes wide and bodies shaking. She opened her mouth to say something, to console the frightened teachers, but before she could, she heard the familiar footsteps of a large monster and ducked down and over without thinking. Her eyes squeezed shut, preparing for a wave of pain to hit her, but nothing came, only a gust of wind and the shattering of glass.
Darcy tore open her eyes to see the broken bus windshield and the Beast's back as it ran away from the disaster it had created. She felt her lips curl into a small, victorious smile, but as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. Sudden guilt and horror tugged at her chest and throat, making her back away quickly.
