We Are Monsters 🌕 Book 1 || gxg

The Notebook

It was hard to say exactly what woke Sam, but it was absolute and jarring. She sat up in a bolt and did a hasty self-assessment. No fur, no paws, just her naked body on the icy patio stones. She was chilled to the bone and ravenous.

No keys, she had only one way to get inside. She stole around the side of the building and wrenched open the sticky window that didn't latch properly, then tumbled onto the living room carpet. Her teeth chattered as she raced upstairs for clothes. It wasn't until she went to pull on her warmest knit sweater that she noticed her arms.

The wounds were gone, angry pink seams winding around her hands and arms. The scars were waxy and dotted on either side where the stitches remained. The sight sent a chill through her body, but she had no time to think about it. Her thoughts were focused on her wallet, keys, and phone, which she prayed were where she left them. She could only hope that her memory was accurate.

Bundled up in her old winter jacket from years prior that she couldn't bring herself to donate—thank goodness—she raced out of her house and scoured the ground for signs of her struggle the night before. When she found it, she nearly cried in relief. There was a faint grey scrap peeking out of the bush. She grabbed it, personal effects safe and sound. That said, the area was a war zone. Clothing scraps were everywhere, the crater she melted had gone all the way to the frozen earth. She gathered up what she could and stuffed it into her pocket before pushing snow over the hole with her feet.

Sam hadn't checked the time, but considering how quiet the street was, it must be early. Daylight was thin, she noted. Her phone had died, so she couldn't check the time. She hoped it was just a dead battery and not water damage.

Not wanting to stick around and be asked questions, she made her way home. Without her personal effects to worry about, her mind returned to the scars, the perfectly healed wounds that were weeks ahead of schedule. How could that be possible? Just yesterday her wounds had been hideous scabs, still swollen with trauma. Plus, those stitches couldn't stay, but she couldn't very well go to the hospital to get them removed. How would she explain that? Yes, hello, doctor, I know I was just here a few days ago but look, I'm already healed! Don't worry about how it happened. She shook her head and let herself into her home the normal way.

Sam took a long, hot shower as her phone charged in her bedroom. The chill was bone deep and hard to dispel. She washed twice, postponing the inevitable, then finally got out. In nothing but a towel she wiped cuticle scissors with rubbing alcohol and went to work snipping stitches. As uncomfortable as that was, it was nothing compared to the sickening sensation of the stitches sliding out of her skin. More than a few times she had to stop and gag, but she managed not to retch. Not that there would be anything to throw up, she hadn't eaten in hours.

Though healed, her arms still ached somewhat. Movement wasn't perfect, and she still couldn't grip very hard, but at least she had more freedom. How had it happened, though? What could have caused her rapid healing?

When her phone had life, she turned it back on and checked the date and time as missed notifications rolled in. It was just after eight, the day after the incident, which was both reassuring and horrifying. Reassuring because it meant she hadn't lost time, but horrifying because it meant the healing had in fact been incredibly fast. There were two missed calls from Ada, one from Kathy, and a handful of texts from Charlotte that grew increasingly worried. At least she hadn't come by to check on Sam while she was out. She took time to respond to each of them, calling Ada last so she had something to look forward to. The line rang only twice before it picked up.

"Hey, you all right? Your phone kept going to voicemail."

She hadn't thought too much about her excuse, but it came easily. "Yeah, sorry, I ended up sleeping most of yesterday and forgot to plug in my phone. I'm all right. How are you?"