At first, I chuckled at my animal shadow. I was relieved to discover I wasn’t paranoid. That day, I enjoyed having a running buddy, and the next time I saw him in human form, I gave the man a sultry kiss.
The happiness at the sight of him soon faded.
Cory kept running with me, but the teasing note to his companionship disappeared. One day, when we were alone far outside of town, he nipped at my heels, as if herding me. I yelped and then laughed, waving off his playful joke.
But then he went for my heels again, this time biting and drawing blood.
I stumbled and whirled to face him, ready to yell at him to back off. But he was gone. Vanished as if I’d been alone the entire time. Then, when I confronted him about it later, he gave me a look as if I was crazy.
His reaction left me confused. And for a time, I doubted myself.
Then I went on another run. Cory the wolf accompanied me again. So I knew that much was real at least. For a few weeks, he ran at my side, never trying anything. I got comfortable again. Then, one day, out of the blue, he went for my calf, biting so hard that I fell to my knees on the side of the road.
Again, he disappeared, and I had to limp for two miles to get home.
I was applying Neosporin to the places his teeth had punctured my flesh when he walked into the kitchen.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I screamed the second I saw his face.
He strode up to me, wrapping a fist in my hair and wrenching my head back, making my eyes water at the stinging pain. “Don’t speak to me like that, Abby. You were the one being an idiot. Running that far outside of town. Could you be more stupid? You’re lucky I was there. Lucky I keep an eye on you. So, don’t you ever yell at me when I’m only trying to keep you safe.” He gave his fist a shake, rattling my soul along with my head, then released me.
When Cory stormed out of the room, I was left shaken and in pain, not feeling the least bit safe.
I didn’t go running again.
I meant what I said to Roderick about loving the night of the full moon in the past. Those were nights of freedom. Times I reclaimed my sense of self and did my best to forget the situation I was in.
But ever since I moved to Pine Falls, the night of the full moon has taken on a different meaning for me. One that invites in my sense of helpless fear.
Tonight, my little house has an ominous feel, every shadow taunting me. Teasing me with unknown dangers.
After getting out of bed for the fifth time to check the house alarm is on, I accept that sleep isn’t in the cards.
Time to utilize my tried-and-true forget-the-world-around-me method.
I scoop my headphones off the coffee table, putting them over my ears before swiping my phone open and flicking on my favorite playlist.
For a few minutes, the music enters my muscles, encouraging me to move with abandon. But after a moment, I realize I’ve paused, stare focused on the strip of darkness visible between my curtains.
Is there someone out there? Can they see me?
Stop it. Just get back to dancing.
So, I try again, but once more, my thoughts are snagged by a window.
With shaking fingers, I adjust the curtains, trying to cover the glass completely.
Still, my mind leaves the safety of my home, locked on thoughts of what prowls outside.
Tonight, Roderick runs in the woods surrounding Pine Falls.
But he’s not the only wolf out there.
Somewhere under the full moon, Cory also runs free.
Maybe some people would feel better, knowing exactly where their tormentor is. But not me. Every other day of the month, since I can’t predict Cory’s actions, I can’t picture him. I have no idea what his daily routine is anymore now that I’m gone. It’s only on nights like tonight that I know exactly where he is.
I can see him. I can see his monster.
