Films Novels & Stories

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Alive. *

There were sub-folders named ‘photos, finances, Adara’. She double clicked on that one and a tear ran down her cheek as she saw only one word document and hundreds and hundreds of photos. Every single photo was of her. Some of them she could see were from when she had just met the Sinclair’s. She opened the word document and read it as her heart broke. “My dearest Adara,

/

He was about to lean in closer to her when he saw Mara walking toward them. Mara, who was a bit protective of Jasmine, had a watchful eye on the stranger. She approached and asked, "Who's this, Jasmine?" Jasmine smiled at Simon and introduced him, "Mara, this is Simon. He's just a photographer." She noted her step sister’s skepticism but didn't understand why. Simon quickly reached out to shake Mara's hand, trying to mask his intentions. Mara gave him a firm handshake, her eyes never leaving his. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken tension as Simon found himself sandwiched between two curious werewolves.

Logan shouts, drawing a knife as everyone reacts. In response, Sam rises in seconds, running like a puma about to devour its prey. He leaps and, with a single bite, rips Logan’s arm off. Blood sprays everywhere, screams of agony echoing. The horror freezes me in place. A high-pitched whine pierces my ears, making it hard to breathe. I feel a hand grab my arm as we flee. Logan writhes on the floor, clutching his severed limb. “Mónica also sends her regards,” he screams with his final words, looking up at us.

Male, wearing a black jacket and baseball cap, face obscured. The figure pulled something from his pocket. A gun. Maya's scream caught in her throat as she watched the figure fire through Daniel's car window. Once. Twice. Three times. The figure walked away calmly, got into a black sedan—the same one she'd seen tonight—and drove off. The video ended. Maya dropped her phone like it was burning her. No. No, no, no. She called Daniel's number again. No answer. Again. No answer. Her phone buzzed with a text.

“I heard some rumors of you roaming quarters where you shouldn’t be. Is this what you normally wear out? My heart was in my mouth in seconds, but I smiled to hide the terror. Did someone see me going into that sex club? “Well France is a big country, your sources have to be more specific.” She laughed, “And so is Chile, I see that your stay must’ve been great, you are glowing. Is that from the sun or a hotblooded Chilean hunk?” “I guess you’d have to pay your sources handsomely to get that scoop, Celia.” I winked at her. I was proud of my flary showmanship and so was dad based on the chipper grin on his face behind the cameraman.