#Max Brinly Missing Moments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bazwillendinflames · 2 years

Note

I’m the anon from before, yes sorry I meant the quarry! radioheads or max and laura would be awesome

My last fic rec lists.

Like last time, I’ve tagged the author where possible but if I’ve missed anyone’s tumblr let me know!

I'll put the rest under a read more:

AUs

it's sketched into the stars by Wolfarella

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: E (but nothing explicit till the last chapter) | Multichapter and completed 4/4

Dylan's working at a coffee shop and crushing on the mysterious regular, Ryan. He finally takes a chance and strikes up a conversation with him. And that conversation somehow leads to more--so much more. And Dylan's just trying his best not to mess it all up.

(A cute little coffee shop au and the beginning of Ryan and Dylan’s relationship once they start talking. All the dates were cute and I loved the background Emma/Abi too. Comfort fic!)

Hectic Glitter by onlyblood / @holybranches

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: T | Multichapter 2/?

"At some point, while Dylan is recounting what Ryan hopes is a mostly bullshit experience with a bear, his eyelids flutter shut. For the first time in a week, soothed by the voice coming from the old speakers, Ryan falls asleep without the silence in his mind enough to drive him to distraction. There’s just warmth, and comfort, and whoever Dylan is."

Or: Ryan moves into an old family friend's lodge when his life falls apart. As it turns out, late night radio talk shows are the cure to loneliness.

(This fic is still very early but I am already obsessed with it! Ryan moves into the abandoned Hackett’s Quarry camp, isolating himself and only finding comfort in the only radio show and its host. I love the atmosphere this fic creates and I can’t wait to see the full mysteries of Ryan’s backstory be fully explored.)

You Send Me by souyoseta / @sh5

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: T | Oneshot (with a sequel)

Dylan thought Ryan was a ghost the first time he met him.

That sounds weird. Back up. Dylan had a totally justifiable reason for believing that to be the case.

(This is a really cute college au! I love Kaitlyn, Dylan and Ryan’s friendship in this which is given as much importance as the relationship. There’s so many good character details and I love how he writes Dylan. The sequel is also full of really cute domestic moments.)

Kaitlyn Ka the Matchmaker by Miss_Valentine

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: G | Multichapter and complete 10/10

Kaitlyn feels bad for Dylan who is helplessly pining over Ryan. She also thinks there is a chance Ryan might like Dylan back. Determined to get these two together, Kaitlyn must do what she can to lead these two to each other.

(A high school au where Kaitlyn schemes to get Dylan and Ryan. It’s really cute and I love all the friendship moments as the group works together. There’s a bunch of bonus content at the end too.)

Song of Sunset by orpheus (vulpesreynard)

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: E | Multichapter 2/3

“What’s the emergency, Dylan?” “Can’t tell you over this box. Too much —” he produces scratching noises with his mouth, “static. I gotta skitty, but come quick!”

When he hears Ryan’s laugh over the device, his heart skips a beat.

The year is 1982. Dylan Lenivy meets one Ryan Erzahler at Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp. They spend two months together, until the final day binds them for a lifetime.

(A fic I am obsessed with. This fic retells the summer before and the night of the attack but with an 80s setting. The attention to detail to change the dialouge, tech and every little pop culture reference 80s is so good and well researched, And the way Ryan and Dylan’s relationship develops, with more of a secret romance than one sided pining is so good!)

Pre-canon

Max Brinly's Guide to Surviving Being in Love with Your Best Friend by IceQueen_07 / @icequeen-07

Ship: Laura/Max | Rating: T | Multichapter 2/?

Max Brinly liked to tell himself many things that were just really poorly disguised lies.

They were tiny lies. Like...how his mom's cooking was fine. Or dad, your singing voice is great. No, he didn't have any hot wheels cars anymore. Ugh, Laura your bubble pop music is awful. He hated the rain. He loved horror movies.

He wasn't in love with his best friend.

(I really love this take on how Laura and Max were before the events of the game, with them as childhood friends which slowly develops into a crush for Max. There’s so many cute moments in this one!)

Southern Kisses From Your Room by souyoseta / @sh5

Ship: Laura/Max | Rating: T | Oneshot

Snapshots of Max and Laura’s childhood friendship and eventual romance.

(Yes I will read a billion different Laura/Max get together fics. This is so cute, I love how their relationship grows and the trans Max HC was great too! They are so dorky and adorable here!)

I Kinda Wanna Be More Than Friends by Jellyrump

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: G | Oneshot

Dylan would never admit it, but- despite how annoying kids could be- he loved being a summer camp counselor.

He got to be this funny, cool, older kid to the youngsters and got to annoy the shit out of people who weren't allowed to beat the shit out of him. There was a schedule that was more for the kid's than counselors, but helped him nonetheless. Mandatory mealtimes, a radio that he was in control of, a really cute guy that he got to see almost daily for two months straight-

All that is to say- yeah. He really liked being a summer camp counselor.

(A few snapshots of Dylan pining after Ryan before the events of the game. It’s a lot of cute interactions, Dylan being painfully oblivious, Kaitlyn being a great friend and Ryan subtly showing his true feelings.)

Yes, No, Maybe So: Circle One and Let Me Know! by TheIcyQueen / @queenofbaws

Ship: Abi/Emma | Rating: G | Oneshot

When Abi wakes up one morning to find a note from a secret admirer on the door of her cabin, she's...well, she's at a loss. Who on EARTH would have a crush on HER?! It just doesn't make sense!

What makes it worse is that everyone ELSE at camp seems to know exactly who this mystery person is, but for some reason, they just...they just won't tell her. Is this some kind of joke? A prank? Or...could she really have a secret admirer out there?

Maybe Emma can offer some insight.

(This is a really cute fic! Abi has a secret admirer and can’t figure out who it is, although her fellow counselors have an idea. Loved the oblivious Abi, flirty Emma dynamic and the reveal was so cute.)

Canon Divergent

Fighting back by Barely_Vibing

Ships: Max/Laura, Ryan/Dylan, Abi/Emma | Rated: T (canon typical violence) | Completed.

The seven counselors were thrown head first into a situation they absolutely were not prepared for. It's close to the end of the night, half of them have turned and they need to fix this before it's too late.

[Chapter 10 rewrite that fixes plot holes and makes it longer and more exciting]

(This is a really good rewrite of the ending, reuniting all the uninfected counselors, having them face off against all the werewolfs, including their friends, and making the fight against Silas more badass. The action scenes are so good and I much prefer the epilouge here than the actual game. It also has battle couple Laura and Max!)

baby, this ain’t like the movies by coykoi / @coykoii

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: T | Oneshot

“You know the saying.” He tries for a weak laugh. “If one of your work friends gets bit by a werewolf…why not join the party. Solidarity…and all.”

“Why not let your other work friend cut off your hand…et cetera.”

“You were the one who didn’t want to!”

“I panicked, okay?! And now I’m…maybe panicking again,” Ryan says, reluctant, and Dylan gets it. He probably wouldn’t go with himself either all the way to the scrapyard.

“If you don’t wanna…you know, tag along in case I bite your hand off before you get a chance to hold mine, I get it,” he jokes, or tries to.

(Ryan and Dylan go to the scrapyard and Dylan turns. I loved the dynamic between them so much and the hurt/comfort vibes were great!)

his corruption, their salvation by BlueFrogs

Ship: Kaitlyn/Ryan/Dylan (poly) | Rating: T | Oneshot

The werewolf is tall, massive really, like all its counterparts, but it's hunched over, almost like it’s trying to make itself less intimidating. That, on top of the tattered gray shirt hanging off its shoulders, makes Kaitlyn realize who exactly is before her.

“Dylan?” She breathes, hardly believing it herself.

Dylan gets infected and turns into a werewolf. Somehow, that still doesn’t stop him from saving his friends.

(Dylan turns but uses his abilties to protect Kaitlyn and Ryan. It has a great poly couple moment. The scene where Kaitlyn and Ryan are fighting over who gets to kiss Dylan first was so funny and wholesome!)

take my hand (too soon?) by CinnamonSeven / @cloudycaffeinatedcryptid

Ship: Kaitlyn/Dylan (it’s a gen fic but there’s pre-relationship vibes) | Rating: Unrated (I’d say T) | Oneshot

Remember how Dylan throws himself in front of Kaitlyn if Emma turns in the van? Remember how they literally say nothing about it? Yeah. I fixed that.

"What were you thinking?" She demands, anger and relief and terror colliding to create a boiling chasm in the center of her chest. "You- You- I can't believe you!"

He has the audacity to huff a laugh, seemingly oblivious to her stress only ticking higher. "Didn't know I had a heroic side?"

(An extended version of Dylan throwing himself between Kaitlyn and werewolf Emma. Again, love the hurt/comfort vibes and Kaitlyn and Dylan’s bond is written so well. The resolution we deserved!)

A Little Unorthodox by wilddragonflying

Ship: Kaitlyn/Ryan/Dylan (poly) | Rating: M | Oneshot

What if, prior to the game events, Dylan and Kaitlyn had a couple of enlightening conversations? After all, we know how much these games like the butterfly effect. What might change?

(Another poly get together fic, where Kaitlyn and Dylan decide to combine forces to try and seduce Ryan. The dynamic between the three of them is very fun and flirty. All the jokes between Kaitlyn and Dylan were really funny.)

Post-canon

i would come back a thousand times by zoeyclarke / @janelevy

Ships: Max/Laura | Rated: T | Multichapter 2/?

Laura twists around to see what he’s watching. “Teen Wolf,” she observes. Her head swings back toward him, disbelief written between the wrinkles in her brow. “Wow. Really?”

“What?” Max is the illustration of innocence. “It’s...” He waves a hand helplessly. “... interesting stuff. You know?”

Or: Max and Laura, after.

(This fic explores slice of life Laura and Max after the events of the game as they move in together, get engaged and figure out their future. It’s a nice mix of soft domestic moments and them addressing their trauma after what happened. Really cute!)

touching your arm at the tow path's end by meowclops

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: E | Oneshot

It wasn’t one blood soaked night that brought them together. They had two months to get to know one another.

(This fic covers Dylan and Ryan before, during and after the game. I liked the end half where they reconnect and settle down together years later and all the soft moments that happen. There’s only one E-rated scene and it’s easy to skip if that’s not your thing.)

Bear with the warmth (And find your relief) by ScorpionMauve

Ship: Kaitlyn/Ryan/Dylan (poly) | Rating: T | Oneshot

Dylan liked Kaitlyn and Ryan better when they weren't covered in gore. The light, filtered by leaves, falling onto them as they lay in the grass. Sticky trails of ice cream over their fingers. Laughter and joy sprinkled with bitter panic at the memories from a year ago.

This was what life was truly about. This was what life should have been. This was what life would be, from now on, with them.

(Ryan, Dylan and Kaitlyn meet up a year after the game and catch up. They try and figure out their relationship. I loved all the dialouge in this, so funny. There’s a bunch of cool character details too.)

a good decent grovel by panorama

Ship: Ryan/Dylan | Rating: T | Oneshot

“Now,” Dylan said, causing Ryan to look up, “wait here for three minutes to give me a head start. We are not walking together.”

“Sure thing, man.”

“Stop smiling. I want a good, decent grovel out of you.”

or, ryan wins dylan back. kind of.

(This is a very fun fic. Ryan tries to win Dylan over again after they finally reconnect at college after the game. It’s a fun reverse to see him doing the persuing and Dylan being the one playing hard to get and sweet to see how they fit into each other’s lives again.)

#asks #the quarry #the quarry fic #fic recs

25 notes · View notes

dreamqueenkala · 10 months

Text

WHEN THE MOON RISES

Previous Chapter

Laura Kearney is my best friend and is currently missing.

Max Brinly is my best friend and is currently missing.

Ryan Erzahler is surprised by my unintentional coming-out.

Jacob Custos is concerned for my well-being and incredibly protective of me, despite his anger towards Emma.

Abigail Blyg is distasteful of me.

Dylan Lenivy finds me adorable, but is uncomfortable around me now.

Emma Mountebank greatly enjoys my company.

Kaitlyn Ka is worried for my emotional stability.

Nicholas Furcillo is protective of me but currently concerned for Abigail.

Travis Hackett has no relation to me.

Chris Hackett is in an undisclosed location.

I am alive, somewhat distraught and burned but otherwise healthy.

Tarot Visions:

Temperance

It was dark, the fire lit before me, my friends surrounding me. Jacob tossed a beer can my way, a pocket knife in his outstretched hand. I debated it for a moment as I caught the beverage, then stood and accepted the blade so I could shotgun the beer, pocketing it afterwards.

Strength

I held my breathe, back pressed to a boulder with Abigail beside me, hands over each other's mouths. A silhouette clambered above the boulder beside us, it's glowing red eyes searching the earth, snarling as it's saliva dripped against my shoulder and made me shudder.

Justice

Abigail stood with her back to a set of lockers, a shotgun in hand. As the creature leapt towards her I shoved her out of the way, taking the brunt of the force as the beast slammed me into the lockers and it's teeth clamped around my throat.

Branches:

•Skeptic BFF: Having been best friends with Max and Laura, I knew they weren't okay. With their absence, I grew skeptical of Chris Hackett and his promises.

•••

Because I stayed with Ryan and Dylan in the lodge, I discovered clues as to my friends disappearances.

•Honest Seer: Deciding to share my clairvoyance with the group, they appreciate my concern and will be more cautious.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Hackett's Quarry Fire Pit

19:07 August 22–Carter Rhodes

Gazing between the three, I felt my heart stutter and drop as I thought it over. Granted, there were things I could fix if I stayed here—with Dylan and Ryan for sure—but at the moment I wasn't sure I wanted to. And with Abigail's distaste towards me, she might not be open to any advice or comfort from me. Besides that, with my current state of mind going off alone was a terrible idea, so I was only really left one option.

I exhaled through my nose, slowly pulling myself up into my feet. I tossed one of my inhalers to Dylan, who fumbled but still caught it. "Here, just in case. I'm gonna go find Emma and Jacob." I admitted to the remaining trio, who's heads all whipped in my direction.

"You sure? It's kinda tense with them..." Ryan hummed, brows creased with worry.

"Yeah, you know how Emma feels. Jacob's a teddy bear at heart..." I shrugged, keeping my gaze away from Dylan. "He's been my support all summer. It's only fair, right...?"

Kaitlyn nodded, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. "Yeah, okay. Just be careful, alright? It's dark as shit out there." I smiled at her concern, giving her a two finger salute as I began to back towards the trail.

Branch Updated:

•Honest Seer: Deciding to share my clairvoyance with the group, they appreciate my concern and will be more cautious.

•••

I gave my backup inhaler to Dylan, whom took it without complaint, deciding to take the extra precaution on account of my earlier warnings.

"Yes ma'am!" I didn't miss the grin that pulled at her lips, nor the worried purse of his lips that befell Dylan's expression, but I didn't give myself time to linger on it. Turning on my heel, I continued into the trees, hopeful that Emma was at least still nearby. Biting my lip, my grey eyes flickered around the shadowed forest anxiously, the hairs on the back of my head standing tall. The forest here surrounding Hackett's Quarry, no matter how beautiful it was during the day, reeked of death and terror at night.

I could feel something gazing at me in the darkness, stalking me, hunting me. My breathing was already erratic and my heart was pounding in my chest, fingers digging into my pockets to grasp the two objects I so desperately needed. My left hand embraced the pocket knife buried there and I relaxed slightly, knowing I had some form of defense. My right hand curled around the two inhalers in my other pocket, knowing I had a means of easily calming down should I lose my breathe.

Yeah, I know, it's such a handicap having asthma sometimes. Especially out in the woods, of all places. I became a liability in some situations, but I made you for it with my sharp senses and my animal knowledge. Breathing slowly, I steeled my nerves and trekked on, focusing on following the path. The forest was eerily silent, I'd noticed, not even the wind was making a sound. I shivered slightly and moved a bit faster, thankfully breaking through the trees and seeing the boathouse ahead of me.

Two figures were perched on the docks, the larger of the two sitting with his legs over the edge. I bit my lip and hesitated, watching them for a moment. They seemed to be getting along, and I was tempted to join them, but Emma suddenly pulled her shirt up and over her head. I deadpanned, watching her strip down to her undergarments—not in a creepy way—and dive into the water, trying to coax the ravenette to join her.

Jacob stood and stripped his own clothes, cannonballing into the lake with a whoop of excitement, Emma's laughter encouraging him as he resurfaced. I let my expression face to nothing and stepped back, turning on my heel. He didn't need my help, he was fine. I was completely oblivious to their eyes on my back as I walked away.

Jacob appreciates that I thought of his happiness above all else.

Emma is saddened by my stubbornness when a personal problem presents itself to me.

My footsteps crunched over the dirt and gravel, my hands buried in my pockets. It kinda stung, really, that I couldn't be more helpful. I should've stayed at the fire pit. At least, then, I might've been able to fix the problems I already had. It sucked that I was so empathetic and kind-natured. A little too selfless. My life may not be so lonely if I tried to put myself first every once in awhile, but even with that thought crossing my mind, I felt guilt roll in waves in my belly.

Frankly, I should've seen it coming. Despite her shit way with words, Emma did genuinely care for Jacob. She just saw the flaws in him he wasn't ready to accept or fix, and that was unfortunately too much for her. Jacob needed a wake up call, definitely, but not the way Emma was going about it. She was really breaking the guy's heart.

Shaking my head, I stumbled slightly over a tree root, tripping and falling to my knees. "Ow, fuck—!" I cursed, rolling onto my ass to rub my ankle. Glaring at the tree root that tripped me, my brows furrowed at the card peeking from beneath it. Reaching out, I caressed the old yellow-tinted object, eyes glazing over slightly as I took in the image of the Lovers card.

A woman stood on the right dressed in puffy blue, hair tied in a bun. A man stood on the left, dressed in red pants to match the underside of her skirt with a black tailcoat. His arm was extended to the woman, who held it to her face as if to bite into it. A cupid rested above them, bow and arrow pointed at the male.

My vision blurred and I could barely make out the sight of the card burning in my hand, ash covering my palm. My ears rang, suddenly shrill and loud, almost like a scream. I whimpered and covered them, gritting my teeth as everything went black.

I groaned as my body hunched over, black veins protruding from my pale skin like spiderwebs. My fingers clenched into fists in my hair, deep growls escaping me along side my own pained grunts. My body trembled and my eyes squeezed shut, teeth bared. I tilted my head up and gold clashed with doe brown eyes full of terror. Then I snapped.

I gasped, blinking furiously as I stumbled upright, the forest slowly coming into view. "What the fuck...?" I murmured hoarsely, my heart rate rapid but slowly calming down. I shook my head to rid myself of the lingering dizziness, brushing off my jeans. That one was a strange one. Dylan looked absolutely terrified when he met my eyes in that vision, and that realization alone had my stomach rolling.

My thoughts were harshly cut short by a high pitched scream deeper into the woods, my head whipping in that direction. Abigail. I thought, swallowing thickly. That sound was one of absolute terror and that fact alone made my anxiety spike. Something was wrong here, very very wrong, but I couldn't stand there and do nothing. Steeling myself, I made a split second decision, turning further away from the path to the boathouse and the firepit, heading deeper beyond the trees.

Sprinting as fast as I could, I flinched when a gunshot went off. My eyes were wide, searching the trees and the shadows for the danger, jumping over roots and dodging low branches. Another shot rang out and I heard Abi yelp. "Abi!" I called, attempting to find her. In my panic, I didn't think rationally, worried for the girl I'd hated all summer because she was in danger. Nick might be, too, if he'd found her beforehand.

"Abi! Nick!"

"H-Help..." I stumbled to a stop, turning to my left towards a very small clearing. Pushing through the bushes, I stumbled over something and fell to my knees with a gasp, a sharp groan coming from the thing I'd tripped over. Scampering onto my back, I faced it and discovered a severely bloody Nick, his left calf torn into. Blood and viscera were splattered over his ripped jeans and the grass beneath him as he groaned and whimpered from the pain.

"Holy shit, Nick—!" I scrambled to his side, grasping his face in my small hands and searching his eyes. "Hey! H-Hey, hey! Focus on me, buddy, c'mon." His pupils were dilated and his breathing heavy, but the Aussie boy was strong enough to focus his cocoa gaze on my steel one.

"C-Carter...?"

"Right here, buddy."

"Abi...where's...she...?" His voice was soft and broken, most likely form the pain and the shock, his body twitching slightly as his brain receives the pain signals. His fingers gripped at my wrists desperately, nails digging into my sleeves weakly.

"I dunno, but I can't help her til I help you." I tensed at the sound of growling coming from deep within the bushes I'd just left. Cursing, and praying unsuccessfully the source wasn't what caused his injury, I gazed around for a moment before spotting a small ditch. Carefully, I grabbed Nick's arms and dragged him along the grass, easing him into the ditch despite his whimpers.

"Nick! Nick!" I hissed quietly, lightly smacking his jaw to wake him from his stupor. "I need you to stay as quiet as you can, okay?"

"W-Wha...?"

"Stay quiet. I'm going to draw it away from you." His eyes grew wider with alarm, his arms reaching for me desperately.

Nick is terrified by my willingness to sacrifice myself for his safety.

"No, d-don't—" He cried softly, fingers scrambling to secure my wrist. "D-Don't leave me." I bit my lip and cradled his head to my chest, hugging him as carefully as I could.

"Stay quiet and you'll stay safe, Nick. I'll find you."

With that, I stumbled out of the ditch, making a mad dash for the trail I knew was up ahead. I could hear it howl behind me, it's feet loud against the earth as the thing scrambled to catch its prey, me. I maneuvered side to side and weaves through trees and rocks, dodging roots and ditches in an attempt to escape. I should've known it was futile and useless. I should've known I would never out run the creature. I should've known I was literally inches from death. Yet, I didn't care. My friends—and Abigail—mattered far more to me in that moment than anything else.

A very heavy force barreled into me from the side, my head slamming into the ground harshly as I yelped. It rolled a few feet away as we both tumbled, settling in the grass. It growled and whined, as if disoriented, and I struggled to pull myself onto my knees. I was dizzy, my vision swimming and my mind buzzing, but I could still see it.

It was huge, bigger than any bear could ever be. It's hulking frame was thin, agile, yet massive claws rested on its humanoid hands and feet. It's ears were long and pointed, it's jaw a cross between human and canine. A long, slimy tongue unfurled from its salivating maw, blood coating it's lips and chin. It's body was stretched taut with dark, leathery flesh, patches of dark fur around its neck, wrists and belly. The most terrifying thing we're it's eyes—a sickly lemon yellow, pupils so small they were practically nonexistent.

Branch Selected:

•Midnight Snack: I chose to chase after Emma and Jacob; leading me to discover the beasts before the rest.

I felt my blood run cold as those two yellow orbs settled on my form, teeth bared as a gurgling snarl ripped from its throat. Scrambling to my feet I took off again, hand fishing in my pocket for the pocket knife I'd taken from Jacob. My fingers gripped the handle and I screamed, sharp claws digging into my back and slamming me into the earth.

I struggled against its inhumane strength, rearing my legs up and kicking at its chest. It stumbled and howled, beating its claws into the flesh of my back once again, ripping an agonized wail from my vocal chords. It rolled me over, maw agape as it's saliva dripped over my face, it's own hulking closer to my throat.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" I flicked the blade out in my palm, slamming it into the creatures left eye. It yowled and recoiled immediately, pawing at its face as it struggled to remove the weapon from its skull. I wheezed as I rolled over, tearing through the trees and the bushes as best I could. I could hear it howling and growling, but it's heavy footsteps ran in the opposite direction. Another gun shot rang out and I could no longer hear it.

My vision blurred slightly, my left hand pressed to the gashes in my side that oozed thick, hot blood. My shirt was torn, barely covering anything but my arms and the right side of my chest, the hem of it rags against my bloodied and sweaty skin. The gashes that creature had caused stretched from the bottom of my left ribs all the way around my side, splitting across my shoulder blades and the small of my back. The flesh was absolutely shredded, blood caking my skin so much my acid-washed ripped jeans we're already dyed pink around my hips.

I don't know how long I stumbled through the woods, or how much blood I'd lost. I knew I was dying—I'm not fucking stupid—but I still couldn't find the will to care. I trembled and continued walking, forcing myself to become numb to the blinding pain in my back or the screaming protest of my shaking legs. It hurt. Everything hurt. I could still feel that things claws in my back, hear it's ragged hungry snarling in my ear, feel it's disgusting, hot breathe on my throat.

I slipped past a set of trees, stumbling onto a familiar path. My body hunched slightly and I found myself coughing up blood, the metallic fluid hot on my tongue and dribbling down my chin. "C-Carter!?"

My head slowly lolled to the side, blurred grey eyes settling on the group of 5 before me. They darted between each person before settling on the one laden upon the wheelbarrow, relief flooding my system knowing he'd been rescued. My eyes fluttered closed, breathing growing ragged. I opened my mouth, sputtering as I stumbled forward. "D-Dylan—" My knees gave out and I fell forward, right into someone's grasp.

The group of five are severely concerned for my life.

"H-Holy shit, his back!"

"Oh my god, how—!?"

"He's going to bleed out, Jesus, fuck!"

The voices were muffled to my senses, eyelids fluttering. I reached out to the boy holding me, grasping his shirt tightly as I struggled to stay awake, face buried in his chest. My fingers slipped from his torso and I blacked out, slumping completely against the familiar frame of the guy I'd grown attached to.

I still felt cold.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Hackett's Quarry Lodge

22:13 August 22–Carter Rhodes

I winced slightly as my eyelids fluttered, whimpering at the pain in my body. My back and side ached, a dull throbbing compared to what I'd felt before. My mouth was dry and my body was coated in sweat and blood, my shirt missing. Bandages were wrapped around my waist and left shoulder, securing the injuries I'd almost succumbed to. My eyes blinked a few times to clear the dizziness as I shifted slightly, a sharp groan leaving my lips.

The bed I was laden upon shifted, a warm hand reaching out to grasp my left hand gently, as I rested on my right side. "Easy. You're going to pull those stitches." A warm, accented voice murmured, squeezing my palm. My grey eyes flickered up to meet cocoa orbs, a soft but weak smile on the Aussie's face.

"Nick..."

"You saved me, mate. Thank you." He squeezed my hand again and I smiled through the pain, hissing slightly as my back arched with a jolt of stinging heat. "Careful—there's no more bandages. Kaitlyn used them all on you."

I nodded slowly, shifting slightly so I could sit up, legs folded and right arm wrapped around my stomach. The door creaked open and a familiar head of red-dyed hair popped into the room. She smiled at Nick, though her expression faltered slightly when she noticed me, but otherwise kept up her optimistic facade.

"Hey! I couldn't find any food, the kitchens pretty cleaned out..." She paused as if something else had just dawned on her. "Oh shoot, I left my bag—whatever, um, I brought you this. Would've gotten more if I'd known you'd wake up sooner, Rhodes."

Abigail moved further into what I now recognized as the clinic, a mug of cold water in her hands. Nick gratefully took the mug and sipped from it, whilst I took to staring at my bloodied bandages. His hand still grasped mine as we lay there, squeezing every time I twitched from what I believed to be potential nerve damage. With the tingling sensation I was beginning to feel in my left arm, I had a dreadful inkling that my left arm was severely fucked, though I decided to keep that information to myself for now.

The lights suddenly flickered a bit before fading out with a crackling buzz, leaving us in almost complete darkness. I sat up as straight as I could, my left hand in my lap and no longer responding to Nick's squeezing. My skin began to crawl, goosebumps forming on my arms as the hair on the nape of my neck stood upright. After a long moment of silence, Nick spoke softly.

"That was...Fuck, I don't even know what happened, it was all just a blur."

"How are you feeling?" Abigail cooed softly, her eyes focused solely on him. Nick shook his head, throwing the question back at her, instead.

"H-How are you holding up?"

Seemingly startled by the question, Abigail stuttered at first, her words nervous. "I-I, um...Well, I-I...I-I'm just happy you're okay. Are you okay? I'm sorry, I-I just asked you that, I—" Nick found it amusing, smiling weakly at her.

"It's okay." He murmured, his voice tired.

Somethings wrong. I thought, glaring at the closed door.

"You think Kaitlyn, Ryan and Dylan are in trouble?" Abigail inquired in a hushed tone, gaze flickering between the door and myself, though my grey eyes were locked on the door.

"Not yet..."

"That's not reassuring." Nick's comment made me scoff, though I didn't reply. My ears picked up footsteps out in the hall way, small and light—therefore, most likely Kaitlyn.

Sure enough, seconds later the short woman slipped through the door, her eyes settling on my hunched form and limp arm immediately. Though, she made no comment, her focus on whatever else she'd likely just dealt with—I assumed she'd dealt with something important seeing as there was a shotgun now in her hands.

"Alright, they're off to find a radio or something." Kaitlyn explained, shrugging her shoulders. Abigail, ever the nervous little—ugh, she questioned Kaitlyn wearily, gesturing to the weapon.

"What...what's with the—um...the—"

"Oh—uh, they found another in Mr. H's office. So...just in case." Abigail nodded at the short woman's explanation, pursing her lips.

I quickly changed the subject, eyes locked on the door again. "What happened to the lights, Kait?"

"Not sure..." Her gaze flickered from me to Nick, eying both our wrapped wounds. "Any better?"

"I'm doing okay...kinda." Nick hummed

I didn't answer, simply nudging Nick's hand away lightly with my right. He gave me a confused look but said nothing, removing his hand from my grasp.

Nick was hurt by my seemingly cold action.

Abigail turned her attention back to Kaitlyn, brows furrowed. "Wait, so, are they going to the radio hut?"

"Phones dead, they're gonna try to send out an SOS or something." Kaitlyn's voice was also tired, worried and soft, shifting her weight as she spoke. "We're holding down the fort."

I sat up straight again as dust fell from the ceiling over our heads, breathe hitching in my throat. "We're not alone." I murmured, right hand twitching anxiously. We listened as heavy footsteps made the floorboards creak overhead, creeping slowly around the second floor.

When the footsteps were far enough away, Abigail whispered harshly to Kaitlyn. "I thought you said Ryan and Dylan already left!?"

"Stay here, I'll check it out."

Nick sat up on his elbows, nodding firmly at Kaitlyn as she shouldered the shotgun. "We'll be fine. Just...be careful."

"Stay alert."

We watched as she slowly left the clinic, holding our breathes as a the door clicked shut behind her. I let myself slump slightly as we calmed our anxiety for the moment. Nick spoke up abruptly to Abigail, his gaze on his lap.

"Hey, so this...may not be the best time, per se, but like..." He hesitated and I could see him turn to face her as she gazed at him with confusion.

"What...?"

I tuned them both out, clenching at my blood-caked jeans with my right hand. My grey eyes slowly fell to my left arm, noticing how much paler it was compared to the rest of my body. My veins stood out blue beneath my almost ghostly-white skin, fingers twitching ever so slightly though I couldn't feel it. My expression saddened slightly as I attempted to move my hand. Nothing happened. At most I could move my shoulder but that caused a dull ache to spread across my ribs.

"D-Did you want something more to happen?" I tilted my head slightly at Abi's words, slowly clueing into the topic.

"Duh! Are you dumb?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry...I just mean—I did want something more to happen, I just...didn't know if you did, too."

Abigail hesitated a bit too long with her reply, and her words were an immediate red flag. "That...seems like such a long time ago, now."

Nick pursed his lips, now laying on his side to face her completely. "You did want it to happen, though?"

"U-Um, I..."

"You can tell me." You're being oddly persistent, Nick. I thought, narrowing my eyes on the door as I listened dully to their conversation.

"Y-Yeah...I-I guess."

Nick scoffed, rolling back over onto his back, glaring at his injured leg. "You're just saying that 'cause I'm hurt."

"Wha—Nick?" Abigail scoffed and let it drop, shaking her head. I moved to stand upright slowly, making my way away from the bed and closer to the window. My left side ached but I ignored it, focused on the dreadful feeling swallowing me whole.

"What is going on out there, Kaitlyn?" Abi's voice was frantic and impatient as another heavy footstep occurred somewhere above us. Growing nervous, she tugged lightly at Nick's arm. "We have to hide, we have to hide!"

"It's okay." Nick hushed her, patting her head as he moved to stand up. "I've got this."

Kaitlyn slipped in to the room in a breathless panic, shotgun lost and looking frightened. "Oh my God."

"What happened?"

Observing the fact it was missing, I questioned her gently about the shotgun. "Kait, where's the gun?"

"We have to get out!" Kaitlyn snapped in a hoarse whisper, completely ignoring my inquiry as the panic and frustration overwhelmed her.

"No! No, we have to hide." Abigail denied her immediately, her own anxiety making her reckless.

"Quick." Nick guided everyone towards the wall nearer to the window I stood at, ducking to hide. I quickly dropped to the floor beneath a table, just as the door opened. Holding my breathe, I watched as heavy boots and a pair of overall-clad legs appeared, moving slowly about the clinic.

After a moment, the man moved towards the other side of the room and I scrambled quietly from under the table. Kaitlyn exited through the window first, followed by Abigail, then Nick. I climbed out silently and nearly tripped over my own feet as I cradled my now useless arm to my chest. Successfully avoiding the giant, we tiptoed across the porch and down the steps, our next destination the radio hut.

As we traversed the path I could feel the numbness spreading, the skin around my rib cage and neck beginning to tingle. Each breath had started to hurt, becoming soft wheezes the closer we drew to the cabins. I stayed a bit farther behind the other three, determined to make sure I wouldn't become a bigger worry than I already was.

I stumbled slightly as the cabins came into view, grunting harshly. I could see Dylan's silhouette through one of the radio hut windows, though he looked almost frantic. My eyes widened as they spotted movement on the roof of the radio hut, those familiar yellow eyes gleaming in the center of its skull.

"G-Guys! Guys!" I hissed, picking up speed so I could catch up to the trio. "Fuck—Kait!"

"What?" She snapped, turning her head to face me as we moved towards cabin 7. Nick and Abigail slowed down slightly, sharing a glance as I spoke in between wheezes.

"T-There's—its—" I couldn't breathe. Suddenly, I realized, I actually couldn't fucking breathe. Deep wheezes left me and I tumbled into Abigail, reaching for my pocket and finding nothing. I must've dropped my remaining inhaler when fighting that beast. Abigail steadied me as best she could just as the PA crackled to life, Ryan's voice coming through the speaker.

"Kaitlyn get into a building now! Do not come up here. There's an animal outside the radio hut—" I struggled against Abigail's grasp, tumbling up the steps to cabin 7 as Kaitlyn frantically struggled against the locked door. "Get in—get into a cabin now! Go!"

Kaitlyn fought with the door, the knob rattling. I could see the creature tilt its head in our direction and hop down from the roof , stalking towards us. I patted Abi's shoulder and pointed since I couldn't speak. She cursed and tried to help Kaitlyn, Nick standing almost protectively in front of us.

"Fuck, c'mon! Oh my god C'MON!" She screamed, kicking the door down just as the creature reached the bottom step. Nick shoved myself and Abigail forward, slamming the door closed behind him. I could hear the creature slamming into the door, climbing up over the roof top and digging at the roof tiles in an attempt to break in. It's evil snarls were loud and hungry, a memory of what I'd already witnessed up close. I curled in a ball and tried desperately to stem my breathing issue, pressing two fingers against my trachea. It helped, oddly enough, but my lungs took in barely enough air for me to stay awake.

"Holy shit! What is it!?" Kaitlyn shrieked, kneeling and covering her head by a bunk. Abigail curled up on the lower half of one of the bunks, gazing around frantically as Nick kneeled beside her almost like a shield, arms held out protectively.

"Dunno. Dunno." I muttered, eyes closed as I leaned against the wall.

A sudden high pitched shrieking echoed from the PA system and I swear my eardrums burst, all four of us crying out at the sound. I released my trachea in favor of covering my ears, the ringing becoming a whisper again.

Silas...

It died quick and I could hear the beast scamper off away from us, fleeing from the sound. It took all of us a minute to breathe before we lifted ourselves to stand. Nick held out his arm to me, allowing me to lean against him as we trekked down the stairs.

Moving away, I turned to face the radio hut and was very pleased to find both Dylan and Ryan emerging unharmed. My breathing was still fucked and I placed my right hand on my knees, the other dangling limply to my left while I wheezed once again.

"Is it safe!?" Kaitlyn whispered in a frantic tone, tiptoeing forward faster than the rest of us.

"I think we're okay for now." Ryan replied, nodding.

Relaxing slightly, Kaitlyn explained our abrupt appearance. "We ran into one of those Hunter guys."

"Ah crap."

"Chased us out of the lodge. I think we lost them on the way up here though. You get a message out?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"Great—"

"Woah, Carter, you good, mate?" Nick hovered over my as I stumbled and wheezed harder, collapsing to my knees with a whimper.

"B-Breathe—can't b-breathe...!" I choked out, clawing at my throat painfully as my nose started to drip with blood—a side affect of both my asthma and the scarring on my lungs from birth. Dylan and Ryan whipped to face me, the former digging through his pockets. With a small cry of victory, the brunette made his way to my side, tilting my head back and holding the back-up inhaler to my lips.

"Inhale." I did so as he pressed the top down, inhaling the chemical release with a whimper. He gave me a moment to exhale before doing it again. Finally, after the third squeeze, I could breathe properly. My right hand gently grasped his wrist, trembling as I let my body relax, eyes closed.

Branch Updated:

•Honest Seer: Deciding to share my clairvoyance with the group, they appreciate my concern and will be more cautious.

•••

I gave my backup inhaler to Dylan, whom took it without complaint, deciding to take the extra precaution on account of my earlier warnings.

•••

Because he had my backup on hand, Dylan was able to save me from asphyxiation after a severe panic attack.

"T-Thanks..." I coughed, wiping the blood from my nose. Dylan nodded, pocketing the tool once more before helping me to my feet.

"Jesus...let's get the hell out of here..."

A gunshot went off and our heads whipped towards the sound, a figure chasing after a silhouette with a flashlight strapped to the gun they used. The figure dashed around the pool fence, leaping over the edge and disappearing from sight.

"Kaitlyn!" Ryan asked suddenly. "Where's your gun?"

"I lost it. One of the neighbors wanted to say hi." She snapped sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Another gunshot, and suddenly Nick, Abigail and I were sprinting in its direction. I could hear Ryan call out behind us to the figure but ignored it, leaping the fence as best I could with one working arm, Nick hot on my heels. I stumbled to a pause by the edge of the pool, steel grey eyes locked on the spreading red in the chlorinated waters surface.

Nick stood beside me, gazing at the pool with the same shocked, but somehow indifferent expression I wore, Abigail with her frightened features just a foot to my right and directly in front of the Aussie. It felt weird, staring at it. Especially as a feminine figure slowly rose to the surface in nothing but her undergarments. I didn't feel any remorse for what I was witnessing, but I supposed that was maybe due to the shock setting in from my injuries. I blinked owlishly, left arm dangling by my side limply as the others joined myself and Nick.

"Aw, shit, Dylan! What is that...?" Kaitlyn gasped, eyes wide. Abi gasped as the body finally broke the waters surface, backing up into Nick's protective embrace and burying her face in his chest. After a long moment of silence, Kaitlyn spoke up again.

"I-Is she like...one of those Hunter dudes?"

"I don't think so..." Ryan hummed, his voice distraught. Noticing his distress, Kaitlyn nodded lightly to him.

"You okay?"

Ryan opened his mouth, eyes fixated on the corpse floating in the water as if in a trance, hands twitching around the shotgun. "I don't know who that other girl was. I've never seen her before."

"Me neither...but her?"

"Yeah." He swallowed and I lowered my head in respect to the dead girl I'd finally recognized. "That's—"

"Kaylee Hackett."

Ryan's gaze snapped to me, as did Kaitlyn's and Dylan's, but I didn't respond, leaving it to hang in the air. My right hand coiled around my left arm, squeezing lightly for some kind of anchor, but I couldn't even feel the pressure anymore. My arm had gone completely numb and my left leg was starting to follow suit, forcing me to favor my right leg.

"Mr. H's daughter? I thought she went home with her brother?"

"Kaylee. Yeah. I thought so, too." Ryan's voice was broken, monotone—unlike his usual display, he now carried a great weight on his tongue. It was no secret that Ryan had always been close to the Hackett family, especially Mr. Hackett's two kids, Caleb and Kaylee. Seeing her like this now...it was no wonder he'd become so depressed so quickly.

Abi shuffled slightly beside me, pushing against Nick's chest. I gazed at them from the corner of my eye, watching the boy's expression contort into a bare-toothed snarl. A soft growl left his throat, only noticeable to myself and Abigail, who's eyes flicked to me with distress.

"Oh man...poor Kaylee."

"Nick..."

"You smell so good." My stomach dropped and I swallowed thickly, carefully reaching out with my right towards the girl. Kaitlyn, finally aware of the situation, leaned forward a bit to meet Nick's eyes.

"You alright there, bud? Maybe dial it back a bit, huh?" Nicks head snapped up and he growled at the girl, holding Abigail tighter than before.

"Fuck off Kaitlyn."

"Woah!"

Abigail started to struggle against Nick, squirming as his tongue traced her throat, his growls becoming louder and his grip strong enough to bruise her flesh. "N-Nick, what are you—"

"I wanna taste you..." He hissed. My brain flickered back to the visions I'd had and the encounter with that beast in the woods, eyes widening.

"Blyg—!" She grasped my hand and I yanked her away from the aussie's hold, stumbling back as he whipped to face me with a snarl. His eyes had gone a beady black, pupils blown and bloodshot.

Nick is blinded by rage and bloodthirst.

"SHE'S MINE!"

He lunged at me and Abigail quickly grasped his shirt, tossing him towards the pool. "Get. OFF!" He stumbled back and slipped over the edge with a splash, sinking beneath the red-dyed surface. It was quiet but for a moment, our eyes searching the dim pool for any sign of his figure. Abi, becoming worried, stepped towards the edge carefully. "Nick...?"

He burst from the water with a scream, flailing and splashing desperately as if he were drowning. His eyes were frenzied and his wails were agonized, fingers clawing at the water in an attempt to escape. Kaitlyn quickly moved to Abigail's side, grasping her shoulder reassuringly.

"Are you okay?"

She gaped like a fish, eyes locked on Nick's flailing form with terror. "I-I just wanted him to stop...!"

"Nick!" Ryan called, startled from his depressed stupor. "Dude!"

Comforting Abi, Kaitlyn soothed her with her charisma, patting her back gently. I stepped back away from the pool as Ryan leaned down to grasp Nick's hand. Hoisting him from the pool, the male curled in on himself, shivering and drenched, hair matted to his pale skin. I swallowed thickly, another sense of dread rolling over me, and I stepped back again, pressing my back to the chain-link fence. It rattled slightly, and though no one else paid any mind, Nick's eyes snapped to my form, a snarl on his teeth.

"Hey." I jumped, turning my head to the right to face Dylan, who stood beside me with concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?" He murmured, reaching out to brush my right arm gently. I nodded hesitantly, still shaken, the gold ring forming in Nick's eyes enough to put me on edge. "Carter?"

"Y-Yeah..." I nodded numbly, right hand squeezing my left arm so tightly my nails penetrated my skin unknowingly, crimson trails staining my skin. "Yeah, I'm...I'm fine."

Dylan is worried for my health and sanity.

"Stay close to me." He muttered, pressing to my side lightly, his hand brushing the small of my back. I huddled against him slightly, silently grateful for the protective gesture. Nick's eyes never left me as he lay there, Abigail moving to crouch beside him. Her fingertips barely brushed his arm before she recoiled with a gasp.

"He's so cold...!"

Ryan stepped forward, his tone urgent and his jaw set. "Okay. L-Let's get him in the pool house. Dry him off."

Abi and Ryan moved to help Nick, Kaitlyn stepping past him with her nose scrunched and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Dylan, grasping my right hand in his, led me forward, tugging me closer as Nick growled at my feet. I leaned into Dylan's side, wincing as my knee nearly gave out, but the brunette steadied me easily.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dylan murmured, guiding me to sit down on a bench along the wall, setting himself beside me. Kaitlyn and Ryan busied themselves with setting up a mat for Nick, Abigail focused on trying to dry and soothe Nick before having him lay down.

"No..." Dylan pursed his lips and gently grasped my left hand. When I gave no reaction his brows furrowed, examining my arm. My skin was paler than normal and my veins a vibrant blue, the muscles and nerves weak and unaffected by his touch. "I've lost feeling in it." His eyes widened and he rubbed his thumb over the thin trails of blood I'd caused with my nails, my body trembling slightly. I'd only just realized how cold I was, remembering that I no longer had a shirt on due to my bandages and that beasts claws.

"Jesus..." He wrapped me in his arms gently, coaxing me to rest my head on his shoulder. "W-We'll get you out of here, Car." I nodded weakly, unable to feel his embrace on the left side of my body. A tear trailed down my cheek and I whimpered softly. This night was going to absolute shit.

"I'm sorry." I barely heard him, his voice so quiet I was only able to make out his speech because his mouth was pressed against my hair. "I didn't mean to just...I-I know this is not the best time, b-but I can't help but think we won't make it out a-and I don't want to die with things so fucked between us—"

"Dylan, what—?"

"J-Just—I do like you. A-At least, 'Dylan Dylan' does." I snapped my mouth shut, listening to him rant quietly to me, his arms caging me in. "A-And I don't mean to be a dick, I-I just don't know how to talk to you—Ryan's easier 'cause he's so fucking quiet, a-and he's hot and mysterious—"

"That's probably not something you should say right after admitting you like me..."

He sighed and buried his face in my hair, inhaling slightly. "No, I-I..." When Dylan fell silent I felt my heart beat a bit faster, reaching over to grasp one of his hands with my right. I felt something warm and wet on the side of my head and tensed, eyes widening. His shoulders trembled and soft sniffles were muffled against me. "W-When I saw you...all torn to shreds and bleeding out, I..." His grip tightened slightly, his hand squeezing mine. "I was so scared I was going to watch you die."

"Dyl..." He shook his head, sitting upright and pulling away. A shaky smile settled on his face as he attempted to joke around his tears, shrugging his shoulders.

"I-It's stupid, I know. I mean, we could all die soon, so..." I reached over and pulled him into an awkward one armed hug, squeezing him affectionately.

"Thank you."

I pulled away just as quickly—thankfully so, as Ryan and Kaitlyn finally joined us in the corner. Shifting slightly, I grasped my left arm with a shaky hand, examining the damage done. "Fuck, I really can't feel anything."

Kaitlyn leaned over to look, tracing her fingertips over my veins lightly. "Yeah, you've definitely got nerve damage. I'm not a doctor, or anything, but if we don't get you to a hospital soon it'll likely be permanent." My expression must've fallen at that because Ryan jutted his jaw at Dylan, then myself. The brunette reached over and grasped my right hand that rested in my lap, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Settling herself down in a chair, Kaitlyn sighed. "Okay, look. We need to be keeping a record of everything that happens, for the police."

Dylan grunted slightly, sarcasm on the tip of his tongue. "Yeah...dead girl in the pool needs some explaining, huh."

"Hey, easy man." Ryan scoffed, directing a pointed glare at the brunette, whom raised his hands in mock offense.

"You mean, like, photos and stuff?" I inquired, moving the conversation along quickly. Kaitlyn nodded, fidgeting with the fabric of her leggings.

"I have a funny feeling the cops are not gonna wanna believe any of this crazy shit unless we got some hard proof."

"From now on..." Ryan added in, hands on his thighs as he shifted in his seat. "If you got your phone, and you see something, take a photo or video or whatever."

"I lost my phone when I lost my inhaler." I muttered, then glanced down at my useless appendage. "Can't do much like this, anyway." I quipped bitterly as an afterthought.

"Yeah..." Glancing worriedly to the right, Kaitlyn and I watched Abi converse in hushed tones with Nick for a minute or two. "You okay over there, Abi? Look—why don't you look around and see if you can find anything to help make Nick more comfortable." Abi did as told without a word and moved around the pool house. My eyes settled on Nick, narrowing at the harsh gaze he had settled on the redhead until she disappeared behind the corner to the showers. His gaze flickered to me immediately and I recoiled, hiding myself behind Dylan's shoulder.

"Holy shit—I don't like the way Nick's staring at me like a piece of meat." I hissed, curling in on myself slightly. Ryan glanced at him as Abi settled beside the Aussie again, shifting the portable heater we'd found closer.

"It's a little intense..."

"Something is definitely not right with that boy." Kaitlyn muttered, having yet to remove her eyes from the duo.

Dylan leaned around the corner to look, nodding with terrified eyes. "Yeah, dude is real sick."

"Did you see how he freaked out in the water?" Ryan chipped in, visibly shivering at the memory.

"He was like, a fish out of water...right?" Dylan hummed, hunched over slightly to conceal me from Nick's view. Ryan grunted and I snorted softly, grinning slightly at his boyishly dorky nature.

"You know, something was weird when I tried to clean his wounds, too. A-At the lodge." I let my eyes flick to Kaitlyn, perking up slightly since I'd been out cold at the time.

"What do you mean?" I asked, eager to learn more regarding Nick's strange behavior.

"Well all of his clothes were bloody but I couldn't find where he was bit. Or scratched or...whatever." She explained, lip quirking to the side as she furrowed her brows skeptically. "He just kept moving around, like he didn't want me to see how badly he was hurt."

"Rabies?" Dylan suggested, head tilted.

"He's not frothing at the mouth." Ryan shut that thought down, but I was quick to snap back in.

"Abigail would probably disagree." Ryan shrugged, accepting my thought without voicing his agreement.

"And isn't aquaphobia a symptom of rabies?" Kaitlyn's eyes were wide at the theory seemingly coming together, though I couldn't really back her up just yet.

"Hydrophobia. But it's supposed to be, like, the fear of drinking, not just getting wet." Ryan corrected her misunderstanding, kneading at his thighs anxiously. "This was like—"

"Like my cat in the bathtub." Dylan chuckled without any humor, Ryan and myself grunting our agreement with the statement. I tilted my head slightly at the sharp gasp Abi abruptly released, leaning around Dylan to peek. My eyes widened watching Nick grasp her arm tightly and drag her in. A deep growl left his bared teeth and he tossed her across the room with inhuman strength, her head slamming into the lockers.

"Oh my god! Abi!" Kaitlyn jumped up immediately in shock, the other two standing abruptly in a panic.

"No no no no no!" I stumbled upright, nearly collapsing as my left leg had finally gone numb, as useless as my left arm. I stumbled across the pool house as Abi struggled to get up, eyes locked on Nick.

The boy stood, snarling softly as he crouched. Slowly moving onto his two feet, shoulders raised and legs slightly bent, Abi glanced down and grasped the shotgun. "Do it, Blyg!" I begged, attempting to push past Kaitlyn, but she grabbed me around the waist to still me. The redhead raised the weapon but did not fire, biting her lip. The gun lowered slowly and Nick grinned a sinister smile, then howled in pain. He collapsed onto his back, writhing and squirming around with agonized cries and hungry snarls.

"Abi, you need to move!" I thrashed against Kaitlyn's grip, struggling to find the right footing, desperate to prevent Abigail's impending death. This is what that vision was for! I thought. Nick rolled onto his knees, growling, and then roared. His flesh tore form his body in a burst of blood and skin that coated all of us, sharp gasps of fear and disgust filling the room.

A hulking beast stood in Nick's place, it's shirt torn to rags and soaked it's his own blood, beady gold eyes glaring at Abi. I finally freed myself from Kaitlyn in her moment of fear-ridden distraction, stumbling forward. "Abigail!" My right hand met her shoulder right as the beast lunged, slamming me into the lockers in her place. The redhead skidded across the floor, gun in her lap as all eyes fell on me. Our gazes met and I watched the blood drain from her already pale face as the beasts teeth sank into the right side of my neck, obscuring her from view.

A wailing scream tore through me, body convulsing at the agony I suddenly felt all over my body. His claws dug into my sides, reopening the wounds Kaitlyn had haphazardly stitched closed earlier. Blood and viscera splattered the already caked tiles and walls, my head tilted forcefully by its large clawed hand. A gunshot rang out and the beast reared back, roaring. Glass shattered as it jumped away and out the window, but I lay there, twitching as blood poured from my open throat and my mouth, gagging on the metallic fluid.

"Carter!" Dylan raced to my side almost immediately as Kaitlyn moved to comfort Abi after she dropped the shotgun, his hands grasping at my face gently, though they trembled. "Fuck, oh my god, Carter, why would you do that—!?" I twitched in place and tried to reply, tears dotting my eyes. I could already feel the heat spreading from the bite wound over my right shoulder, black veins forming under my right eye and along my throat, the same infection that had claimed Nick. Dylan turned to Ryan, desperately begging for any form of help. The quieter boy gathered the towels Nick had laid on prior, pressing them against my wounds to stem the blood flow.

I could feel the cold seeping in, battling with the fire raging in my blood. My vision was blurring and dotted with black spots, my breathing labored and inhibited by the blood pouring from my parted lips. Dylan's tears fell rapidly, his hands pawing at my flesh and desperately trying to apply pressure to my wounds.

"C'mon, cmon, p-please! Don't d-die, please, don't die, Car!" He begged and begged desperately, his voice cracking as he fell into a frantic hysteria. I reached my right arm up and traced his cheek, watching his eyes flick to my own. I tried to speak but found I lacked the strength, so I settled for caressing his tears away, my thumb tracing his bottom lip. He closed his eyes for a moment and cupped my hand on his face, squeezing desperately to ground himself.

I don't know how much time went by sitting there with Dylan holding the towels in place, my gaze far away and my breathing consisting of deep bloody wheezes and coughs. I don't know how long Dylan stared me down as I sat there, dying against the wall, my hand still placed on his cheek. I don't know how long it was before a sharp knock rang at the door, startling the group.

I didn't get a chance to see the newcomer, or attempt to speak. Dylan, whom had faced the door and was talking to Ryan, felt my grip slacken against his cheek. His head whipped around as my hand slowly fell limp, hitting the floor with a bloody smack. My head tilted a bit more to the left, resting on my shoulder, and my eyelids drooped. My breathing faded, my heart slowing its incredibly weak beat.

Dylan was screaming something but it was muffled. Another figure moved into view but my vision had already faded. Hands gently—or roughly—shook me by my shoulders, though I barely felt their caress. I gurgled one final time before my vision blacked out and all sound died, my heart beat stilling.

...

...and then it clenched, beating again.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Laura Kearney—is my best friend and recently found our ragtag group of survivors. She is distraught at my ‘death’.

Max Brinly—is my best friend and currently missing.

Ryan Erzahler—is emotionally closed off after my ‘death’.

Jacob Custos—is worried for me, and our friends. His location is unknown.

Abigail Blyg—is feeling ‘survivor’s guilt’ due to my sacrifice.

Dylan Lenivy—is heartbroken over my ‘death’. He refuses to speak.

Emma Mountebank—is scared for me and our friends. Her location is unknown.

Kaitlyn Ka—is still registering the current events.

Nicholas Furcillo—is infected and on the run. His location is unknown.

Travis Hackett—has no relation to me.

Chris Hackett—His location is unknown.

My status is a shredded mess of gore, cold skin and lack of pulse. Currently ‘dead’???

Tarot Visions:

Temperance

Strength

Justice

Lovers

Branches:

•Skeptic BFF: Having been best friends with Max and Laura, I knew they weren't okay. With their absence, I grew skeptical of Chris Hackett and his promises.

•••

Because I stayed with Ryan and Dylan in the lodge, I discovered clues as to my friends disappearances.

•Honest Seer: Deciding to share my clairvoyance with the group, they appreciated my concern and will be more cautious.

•••

I gave my backup inhaler to Dylan, whom took it without complaint, deciding to take the extra precaution on account of my earlier warnings.

•••

Because he had my backup on hand, Dylan was able to save me from asphyxiation after a severe panic attack.

•Midnight Snack: I chose to chase after Emma and Jacob; leading me to discover the beasts before the rest.

#my stuff #fluff #fanfic #male oc #bxb #mxm #violence #gore #drama #romance #horror #psychological horror #the quarry #the quarry fanfic #mature #apocalypticnova

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tumbleassbitch · 2 years

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another lost soul (letting my instinct take control) | The Quarry | TravisxLaura

Characters: Laura Kearney, Travis Hackett, The Hackett family Summary: Max dies in the cellar. This changes everything.

Chapter 9/? | Chapter 8

July 15, 2022

All things considered, it’s not that bad.

Underneath the fluorescent lights of the shower room, the bruises along her ribs look… normal. No internal bleeding or squashed organs.

Probably, Laura thinks dubiously.

Looking over her shoulder hurts like hell, but she only finds a collage of purples and blues beneath a scattering of crimson scrapes and pricks, the worst covered up by bandages. It kind of looks like an ugly Jackson Pollock painting, but at least it’s non-lethal.

She pulls her shirt back down with a wince and makes the stilted walk back to her cot, trailing one hand along the wall to keep upright. By the time she’s made it halfway, sweat is beading along her brow and she feels uncomfortably close to passing out.

That is, until a steady arm loops under her own.

“You should’ve called,” Travis says, irritation lacing his words.

And do this whole dance and song again? she thinks dismally, but there's no point in starting a fight with the person who’s literally holding her up.

“Thanks,” she says flatly.

They make it back to the cell in quick time, and she slumps down with a heavy breath, taking no effort in masquerading just how much that short walk took out of her.

Travis lingers by the cot, folding his arms in stern judgment.

There’s a reason she didn’t ask for help. Looking at him now in the light of day makes last night all the more worse.

“I brought you your things,” he says after a moment of loaded silence. “They’re tucked under the bed.”

“Cool. I’ll make sure to dig around for them later.”

“I didn’t—” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I put them there so you wouldn’t trip when you got up.”

Laura grunts, but there’s no real malice behind it. He eyes her shrewdly.

“I brought you some ice to switch out for the heat pack, and I’ll charge that while you rest. Breakfast and coffee will be ready in a bit. I figured something with protein might feel good, so I’m defrosting some sausage and—”

He’s rambling.

“—is your pain level? Do you need something stronger? I guess now’s about the time to take another dose, huh?” He feels around his shirt pocket, and his mouth dips into a deeper frown.

“Shit. I’ll get you the pills before breakfast. Afterwards, I can help you to the showers if you want, maybe put a chair in there so you can sit—”

Travis pauses, and his eyes narrow with accusation. “Are you even listening to me?”

“...Yes?”

He purses his lips, looking both exasperated and uncomfortable all at once. “Okay, you know what? I’ll go get your meds. Don’t do anything stupid in the minute that I’m gone.”

He casually tosses something on her pillow, and her world goes still. It’s her phone. The bright but scratched, polka-dot casing stands out amongst the grays. Max’s mom got it for her two Christmases ago.

When Laura looks up, he’s already gone.

July 16th, 2022

“You missed the funeral.”

“Yeah.”

"Yeah?" Skylar Brinly's breath is heavy against the receiver. "That's it? Where have you been, Laura? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for weeks!”

A beat.

“Max. Max is. He's... You haven’t even called until now."

“I know.”

“You know?” Her laugh is a staccato, bitter note. “I know that my brother’s body was so mangled that they gave us his fucking shoes to ID him. I know that my mom, who took you in like a daughter, didn’t eat for a week. We had to admit her into hospice. She’s still there, by the way.”

A whine builds up in the back of her throat.

“Are you even listening to me? Say something, Laura! Say anything! …Laura?”

“Yuh- yeah.” Laura’s words break off into a silent cry, and she curls up in agony. Her muscles scream against the sudden stretch.

Skyler makes a discontented note on the other line, but Laura interrupts her with a gasp of air, like she’s finally breaking the surface of a long dive.

“I’m s-suh-sorry," her breath hitches, "I’m s-so sorry, Sky, I-I can’t explain⁠— I wasn't there and I should've been there, I wanted to be there for you and Dave and Jules but I wasn't. I fucked up. God, I fucked up."

"Hey," Skylar says hesitantly, her own voice suspiciously wet sounding, but Laura blubbers over her.

"No. Fuck, Sky, listen. I'm a fucking curse. I shouldn't have made Max go with me in the first place. But I'm gonna m-make it better, alright? And then if yuh-you guys still want me then, I can come h-home—"

"Oh, Laura."

"—but I can't do that right now, 'Kay? I can't. I can't."

Skylar shushes her. Her contact photo is one of the both of them at high school graduation, and even through the cracks in her old phone screen, they look flushed and sweaty and happy.

It aches to look at now, after everything, but Laura latches onto it like a lifeline. Her shoulders rack around another sob.

"Are you…" Skylar asks hesitantly. "Is this about…?"

She's talking about That.

"No," Laura says as firm as her voice will allow. It isn’t much.

"It’s not your fault.” Skylar’s voice goes soft, familiar. It’s the tone she used when Laura used to have an episode. “There wasn’t anything you could’ve said or done to stop him. You know that. The cops were already there.”

“It’s not,” she starts, licking her lips. “It’s not about that.”

“Well, it kinda sounds like that. Because you’re saying you can’t come home after my brother died, and yet you weren’t even there when it happened. So it seems to me like you’re blaming yourself again for something completely out of your hands, again, and I don’t want to see you go down this path. Again.”

“I’m not, Sky. I won’t. I’m just not… ready.”

“...Okay.”

“I miss you.”

Skylar’s voice hitches, and it takes a moment before she speaks again. “I miss you. I miss Max, too…”

They go on like that for a while, even if most of the conversation is the two of them sobbing and stumbling through their grief. But, still. It feels good to talk to family again.

Skylar ends the call with a promise and a threat to talk again soon, and that if she isn’t home in the next few weeks, she’ll hunt Laura down herself.

Coming home would be good, if not quite feel right. It’s hard to imagine going back to the old room in the Brinly household, eating cereal with Dave at the old and dented kitchen table.

What really stops her above all else— Even beyond your revenge fantasy, girl?— is the thought of seeing Max's face again. His dorky, bright, beautiful smile is forever memorialized in the dozens of family photos littered around the house.

She hasn't dared open the gallery on her phone, and she zoomed past the home screen photo of them at the zoo as if it would leap out and grab her. Fuck, it took her a day after getting her phone back to call his sister, her best friend.

She's a coward. That's the truth.

And maybe she hasn't stumbled out of this cell because of it. This werewolf curse is too convenient of an excuse to go back into the "real world" of funerals, and college, and starting over. Maybe that makes her a bad person.

Honestly? This isn’t even the defining moment of making her a bad person. This is just another nail in the very real, heavy coffin that is her life. Just one more mark against her that she has to wipe clean before other people can see it, too.

A cough pulls her from her thoughts, and Laura sharply inhales.

Travis stands in the doorway of her cell like an awkward penguin. She’s still curled up in a fetal position like some unstable person.

Of fucking course. It’s almost like he waits for her to crack before appearing like some ghoulish phantom.

“What,” she says flatly.

“I—uh. Wanted to check on you.”

Laura furiously wipes at her face. “I’m fine.”

“On your injuries,” he elaborates, fidgeting with his belt. “Won’t take a minute.”

It’s going to take a fucking hour, she thinks ruefully. Her back hurts so bad that she had to crawl to the toilet in the middle of the night, and it’s not like the rest of her is doing any better after that emotional dump of a phone call.

She lets the silence stew, and Travis eyes her warily. Maybe he expects her to lash out. That, or break into tears, which is a mortifying enough thought that she musters up a glare that could wither stone.

“I already checked them this morning,” she replies. With her clogged nose and grated throat, it sounds little more than a whine. The weight of his stare makes her crack first, if only to get this moment over with sooner.

“You may approach, officer,” Laura says sarcastically.

Travis rolls his eyes, though something about him clicks back into normalcy. This back-and-forth routine is far more comfortable than whatever they teetered on so carefully just two nights ago.

Slowly, grimacing with pain, she manages to roll onto her front. It’s like her back is seizing up more by the hour, and she’s tempted to abort halfway.

“Just do it,” she mumbles into the pillow when he hesitates. “Don’t get handsy.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Travis says with a disgruntled note. But his hands are still careful when they roll her shirt up, and his touches are short and quick along her spine and sides.

“It’s looking better. At worst, I think you just bruised your ribs,” he says after a while, rolling her shirt down. “But it might not even be that bad, from the looks of it. Your breathing’s still clear?”

“Yup.”

He hums in acknowledgement. One finger lightly traces over the skin of one of the scabbed-over cuts, and his touch leaves a trail of nerves in its wake.

“There’s nothing we can really do, ‘cept continue to wait,” Travis says quietly. He places another fresh pack of ice on her back, and stands with a grunt.

As abrupt as he first appeared, he turns to leave. She stops him. “What did you tell them?”

“Who?” It’s obvious who she’s talking about. He’s stalling.

There’s a lingering stretch of quiet, like the balm after a long storm. His mouth dips like a bobber in the waves.

“You and Max were traveling to the motel. He forgot something back home. Rather than make you drive with, he dropped you off to reserve a room and left on his own, and took a corner too fast. These back-country roads aren’t easy for out-of-towners. It was… quick.”

“It was,” she says, worrying her lip absent-mindedly. He clears his throat, suddenly averting his eyes to the wall.

“Travis.” Laura waits for him to look at her before continuing. “Thank you.”

His lips part softly in surprise. Thank you for doing what you could to save my life, is what she was going to say, but the sudden openness to his face, the vulnerability, stops her short. It’s like the years have melted off of him.

It’s too much, is what it is. This side of Travis feels weird to know. Maybe ‘weird’ is too strong of a word, but all she knows is that it makes her insides twist uncomfortably and that, in itself, is weird.

“And that’s my kindness quota for the day,” she blurts. “So, if you don’t mind…?”

His brow crinkles in confusion, then irritation when she makes grabby hands.

“Don’t get addicted,” he says gruffly, slapping two painkillers into her palm. She accepts them greedily.

And since she’s in a better mood than usual, Laura doesn’t even tease him for the way his ears have gone pink.

July 18th 2022

It’s a little past midnight, and Laura is woken up by the sound of someone else in the building.

“...the middle of the night?”

It’s hard to say if it’s a man or a woman, but Travis’ hushed words leading to the office carry over from the main room like an agitated bee hive.

It’s a while before their voices come back around. They must be heading back towards the entrance.

“...none of your business…”

“Couldn’t you, y’know, handle it?”

It’s definitely a man. It would be weird for Kaylee to come by this late, she supposes, yet the disappointment comes all the same.

“...you even hear yourself? ... a police officer!” Travis has never quite sounded like this before. He’s angry, obviously, but there’s a different note to it that she can’t place a finger on.

Laura strains to hear more, but their voices continue to fade.

“ ...won’t...keep your mouth shut.”

They’re gone.

She must drift back to sleep while listening for anything else, because the next thing she knows, a strike of a car engine overhead jolts her back to awareness. The headlights cast fingers of light across the stone, reaching past the bars on her little window, and settle into the lines of the stone wall and Travis’ face.

Her throat closes up. There’s Travis, leaning against the wall, a bottle of something dark in hand. The light flits away as the car moves on, the crunch of pavement sounding faintly. All that’s left to illuminate them both is the pale touch of moonlight.

Her mind instantly runs through every question, her possible escape routes, but… he’s just sitting there. He isn’t in her cell, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that she’s awake.

He probably couldn’t even walk a straight line. The bottle looks more than half empty.

Travis releases a heavy sigh into the night, and he slumps further down the wall. Seeing him this way feels… wrong. Like she’s witnessing something forbidden.

It’s not my fault he camped out here, she thinks defensively.

“Didn’t mean for this to ‘appen.” His slurred voice catches her off guard. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

She lies painstakingly still.

“Y’shouldn’t have thanked me,” he goes on to say. “M’not worth that.”

The way he appears before her is typically so self-assured. He stalks around here with an air of well-worn exasperation, always ready to unleash his own brand of confidence through dry wit and blunt honesty.

This? This sad man stretched out on concrete and moonlight, drinking straight from the bottle? She doesn’t recognize him.

Yes, you do, she thinks ruefully. What other kind of man goes to the trouble of covering up his family’s mess?

He huffs a bitter laugh, and sloshes the bottle’s contents around before setting it down with a look of disgust.

“I’m fucking pathetic, is what I am,” he comments wryly, gazing up at the window. It’s eerily close to her train of thought, and for a second, she’s worried she spoke aloud.. A lopsided grin twists his face in a mockery of amusement, and the smile dies after a few breaths.

He swallows heavily, throat bobbing with the movement, and slowly rises to his feet. It takes a few unsteady steps before he remembers the bottle, and it takes even longer for him to lean down and swipe it.

“Sh-iiiit,” he mumbles, stretching out the curse. “Fuck me. Fuck.”

Laura holds her breath as his shuffled gait disappears down the hall.

Later, much later, she’ll wonder if he understood the gravity of what he was apologizing for.

July 20th, 2022

“I’m ready,” she announces.

Travis looks up from the coffee pot in surprise.

“Ready?” he repeats drily. A packet of oatmeal is in hand, and a bowl is already out for her. It looks like she came by just in time.

“I was able to walk all the way here without help, so yeah, I’m ready.” She puts a hand on her hip, relishing in the soft, familiar material of her leggings. The matching cropped jacket and baseball cap make her feel almost normal, as if this were a casual summer trip and not a manhunt.

His calculating gaze sweeps over her, and if it were coming from any other man, she’d feel like a piece of meat. Instead, she just feels irritated.

“We agreed. It’s been three days.”

The last couple of days has been a slow crawl of pain meds, hot and cold packs, and one awkward session of bandage changing that Laura immediately vetoed from ever happening again.

It’s been painful in nearly every faucet, and Kaylee still hasn’t stopped by.

Travis himself offered up the compromise, “if only so you could please shut up for five goddamn minutes,” so, here she is.

Though, given what she happened to witness a few nights ago, some productive time away will do him some good, too. He can blame it on her impatience as much as he wants, but she’s seen beyond the mask.

Travis needs a distraction, and she needs a partner who isn’t five steps away from getting drunk and watching pretty girls sleep. Yikes.

Her boot taps impatiently against the side of her bag. It’s a little shoulder pouch she packed to ferry around bandaids and snacks at camp, and it doubles as a perfect overnight bag.

He eyes her unimpressed. “We agreed to reassess in three days.”

“And the full moon is in just a few days!”

“That’s right,” he says matter-of-factly. “Which means I have prepping that I need to do, and you still have to take it easy. I’m not dragging your ass up another ravine.”

“C’mon,” she says flippantly. “Don’t act like you haven’t already taken the day off.”

He makes a sort of indignant sound, but he doesn’t deny it. “The day, I could maybe swing. But what’s with the bag?”

“In case I need it,” she says vaguely. “It’s a bit of a drive, right?”

His eyes dart up towards the ceiling. Thinking. Perhaps… waiting, is a better word.

She can see the moment his resolve cracks. Wordlessly, he puts the bowl back in the cupboard and walks past her, scooping up her bag in one smooth motion.

They take no detours. His broad stride takes them to the main entrance, and when he locks up behind them, it feels like the closing of a chapter.

Laura pauses to take it in. The sheriff station stands like a monument to another time; the chips on the double doors reveal layers of old paint, years of cosmetic cover-ups stacking up into a sheet of grime. Last night’s soft summer rain still lingers in the air, and her old hiking boots scuff lightly against the pavement.

Here, in the pale light of morning, something’s changed.

“I thought you said you were ready?” he asks next to the cruiser. A light note of sarcasm dances along his tone.

“I’m surprised we’re not taking a personal car,” Laura says. Travis shoots her a look, which she takes as an invitation to continue. “I just figured… the ‘North Hill County Sheriff’ cruiser might attract a lot of stares.”

“I don’t have a personal vehicle.”

She frowns thoughtfully. “Is that a… cop thing?”

Travis’ mouth twitches. “I suppose… you could say it’s a ‘cop thing.’ I just never used mine, so I lent it to a family member who needed it.”

Laura hums in consideration and gets in, shooting a quick glance to the backseat. And— yup. She smirks; his duffle bag is already there. He doesn’t look at her, but he does switch on the radio almost immediately.

“Get comfortable,” he says. “It’s a three hour drive to Colton.”

Def Leppard thrums alive over the speakers, and Travis turns the volume up. So much for conversation, she thinks wryly.

It’s been a while since Laura’s gone on a long drive. Being with Max was all about noise; the bright notes of the latest pop song, his constant need to fidget, his driving urge to make her laugh.

Travis is the exact opposite. This man is made up of thick, solid lines drawn in the sand. The center console is paramount to the Iron Curtain. But after an hour of thick tension, she has to break it.

“Have you heard from Kaylee at all?”

He looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “No.”

“Really? Nothing?”

“Surprisingly, she has nothing to say,” he replies slowly.

“Have you tried to reach out?”

He snaps his head over with a scowl. “Out with it.“

“Nothing, geez. I’m just asking, I want to know that she’s okay. It’s weird that she hasn’t come by, so…”

Travis sighs through his nose, glancing off to the side. His fingers flex on the steering wheel. When he looks back to the road, his face is set in stone.

“Look. I appreciate your cooperation with me, despite how all this… started out. But I don’t think it would serve either of us if this agreement went any past that.”

“...Um, what?”

She watches as irritation passes through his face, but he locks it down, face resetting back to that same impenetrable stone.

“Let’s not mix business with pleasure,” he says.

Laura blanches. “Pleasure?”

Travis is already shaking his head before she finishes speaking, and this time, annoyance is plastered all over him.

“Okay, no. God. You know what I mean.” He takes a deep breath. “Look, I appreciate you caring about my niece. I really do. But I don’t want things to get more… complicated than they already are.”

“I think this is as complicated as things can get, Travis,” she deadpans, but he moves past it.

“Once this is over, you can move on, live your life. Hell, you can even go and turn me in for false imprisonment,” he says wryly, then fixes her with a serious look. “But I ask you this— leave my family out of it. Leave Kaylee out of it. I know that might be asking a lot of you, but. Please. I don’t need another thing to get tangled up with.”

Another thing.

His words twist something ugly in her chest. Laura Brandt. Another thing.

“Sure,” she says neutrally, looking at the passing scenery.

She doesn’t feel much in the mood for conversation after that.

Eventually, the highway unrolls into the meandering sprawl of country roads. There, nestled within thick evergreens and heralded by an American flag, is an old sign reading, “WELCOME TO COLTON.”

Aside from an odd cow statue that greets them with a plastered hoof full of cheese, there’s nothing much to the town.

It’s small; maybe a bit larger than North Kill, but only just. Travis takes them down the quiet main street for several blocks before turning down a side road bracketed with pines, houses scattered in-between.

They reach a backroad that feels like it was intentionally set aside, and Travis pulls over to the side. Across the street is the town library and a gas station a bit further down. It takes a moment for Laura to actually notice the purpose of their road trip.

The cemetery is, frankly, underwhelming.

It’s split into two levels, which may be a bit odd, with the typical tombstone and flat marker laid out in rows. The dirt lot next door looks big enough for a neighborhood to fit, but it’s hard to imagine a literal circus being held in a place like this.

It’s not like she’s been to a lot of cemeteries before; only once, and that was to visit her mom’s grave. But this one doesn’t exactly scream, ‘Hey, witches and werewolves! Come check this out!’

Though there’s obviously been an attempt at upkeep, the bushes lining the fence are heat-fried, and their dried corpses look less than friendly beneath the wrought iron words, COLTON CEMETERY: HERE LIE OUR FALLEN FRIENDS.

They step out of the cruiser in silence, and come to a pause outside of the rusted gate.

“Any idea on what we should be looking for?” she asks, peering down the lanes.

"The Vorez name, I’d assume.” Travis’ hand lingers near his gun. “Anything else that seems… otherworldly.”

“Right.” She crosses the threshold, and despite not expecting it, she’s still vaguely surprised that nothing… happens. No goosebumps, no chills down her spine. Just another Sunday morning at the graveyard.

“I’ll start on this half,” she says, gesturing to the right half that’s down a few steps.

“You really want to split up?” he asks with a raised brow.

Absolutely. “I don’t see any cliffs nearby,” she says drily. Her face splits into a shit-eating grin that doesn’t quite feel natural. “What, you scared?”

His flat stare speaks volumes. Travis takes the other half of the cemetery without a word. And something in her uncoils.

After being stuck in a car with him after that stellar conversation, leaving his orbit is like a breath of fresh air. Literally. It’s like she can actually breathe again without snapping whatever tenuous peace they’re see-sawing off of.

She rolls her shoulders with a wince, and descends the concrete steps into the next level. At first glance, the graves aren’t anything unique. She mentally rattles off each name while passing through.

Edna Graceson, 1886-1929

Steven Callick, 1935-1972

Geoffrey Beaumont, 1955-2003

The late morning sun starts to heat up, and she unzips her jacket. At least her baseball cap keeps the sun out of her eyes.

God, she’s missed wearing a hat. Maybe it’s stupid, but it’s been so long since she hasn’t had one at hand. Having the choice to wear something? Priceless.

The sound of grass whispering under foot rasps a ways above, and Travis’ stalking figure passes by in the upper rows. The sharp, dark lines of his body fit in with the decor.

“See anything?” he calls.

“No,” she replies. “Just… a lot of dead people.”

He studies her face. “Once I finish up here, I’ll join you down below.”

“Alright,” she starts to say, but he’s already disappearing behind the ledge. “O-kay,” she mutters. Pretty dramatic for an old cop.

The longer she looks, a trend makes itself apparent: the cemetery is very, very old. There’s more than a few markers from the 1800’s, and several of the darker, weather-beaten stones read birth years from even earlier.

One group of tombstones catches her eye. There’s no mementos in this section— flowers, photos, the like. Etched in weather-beaten stone, she reads years from the 1700’s. These probably belong to the earliest settlers in Colton.

Laura crouches down, squinting at the barely-legible carvings.

ÉLÉ NOR M RIE VALET

Below the faded name reads, ‘no longer shall you face.’ That doesn’t make sense. Face what?

Travis’ footsteps creep up behind her while she’s still trying to figure it out, and she shifts to the side to give him room.

“Check this—” she starts, but the words lodge themselves in her throat.

Because this isn’t Travis.

She isn’t sure what it is.

The mass of contorted limbs and flesh is so unlike anything she’s ever seen, that it takes a moment for her brain to recalibrate. It looks human. Or, at least it was.

The angles are all wrong, so, so wrong. Shoulders and elbows and hips and knees have been dislocated and forced in unnatural bends. Its sallow flesh is tinged and hanging with rot, sticky with dusty scraps of fabric that have long since passed the point of recognition.

But the middle— that’s where her eyes stop. Because lodged in whatever is meant to be its midsection is a large metal pole. There’s no blood. Just… dark folds of skin, swallowing it whole.

The moment hangs by a thread. Laura slowly rises from her crouch, white noise humming between her ears.

She can’t say what holds her in place as it jerkily reorients its limbs; a leg flips to the other side, the spine practically snaps in half. In the center of it all, blooming like a flower from hell itself, is Eliza Vorez’s face twisted around a gaping maw.

She takes a step back, and the thing twitches forward.

Holy shit.

Everything clicks back into place. Adrenaline hits her bloodstream like a bullet, and Laura takes off in a run. The steady pop of joints and bones and the metallic clang of the pole bouncing along the ground confirms the horrible truth.

It’s hunting her.

“Travis!”

She doesn’t have a gun. Why doesn’t she have a fucking gun?

Laura hops over the tombstone on jegs made of jelly, pumping her arms in time with the thump, thump, thump of her heartbeat. The bruises along her back and thighs, the dozens of cuts splitting open with the movement, none of it registers as she sprints amongst the graves.

Later, she won’t be able to describe what compels her to do it. But one moment, there’s a strange high whistle in the air, and Laura pivots sharply to the left out of instinct.

A half a second later, something unyielding crashes almost directly into her leg. The impact knocks her over with a cry.

Next to her, the pole is lodged into the ground, caked with rust and some other brown substance. If she hadn’t moved, if she’d just been one millisecond too late—

Eliza’s mangled body skewers itself on the pole once again, slamming into the ground with a solid thud. Laura doesn’t waste any more time.

Her fingers dig into the manicured grass for purchase, and she scrambles up to her feet in a staggered run. Pain doesn’t even register at this point.

The stairs are so close. Where the fuck is he?

She desperately leaps over another tombstone, and the sharp ring of metal against stone follows quickly after.

She takes the stairs at a breakneck pace and almost loses her footing on the last step, if it weren’t for someone grabbing her arm. Laura chokes on her gasp, and in her panic, she tries to shove away and almost tumbles down.

“Hey! Hey, it’s me!” Travis has her locked in place. “What the hell’s going on?!”

The tint of fear in his voice is enough of a drive to push him back, moving them both away from the ledge.

“There’s a- it’s chasing—!” she garbles out.

Travis pulls her behind him without another word. His gun is already drawn, and he scans the area with the end of his barrel. Laura spins around so they’re back-to-back, and her eyes desperately scan the rows upon rows of graves behind them.

“Do you see it?!” she asks breathlessly.

In the distance, the gas station sign across the street flickers.

“No.”

“It was- was some kind of monster,” she says, voice embarrassingly cracking. “It had Eliza’s face.”

His back goes tense, and the muscles coil against her spine. It’s silent, save for their heavy breathing.

Travis starts to rotate, and she follows his lead slowly, heel by heel. They’re too out in the open, but is it truly better to run at this point? Could it outrun the car?

A dry rustling sound breaks the silence, and he sharply pivots in front of her. She grabs the back of his shirt out of instinct, and immediately feels stupid. It’s just a fucking bird in a bush.

She swings back around, desperately looking back for something, anything, that crawling mess that will forever live on in her nightmares, but… there’s nothing. Belatedly, Laura steps back.

She looks up to find that he’s already been watching her.

“I’m not crazy.”

“I know,” he says, and drops his chin meaningfully. “If you’re seeing things, then that has to mean we’re getting close. I’d tell you to go back to the car—”

“No way in hell.”

“—and that’s what I thought.” His eyes have a knowing glint.

He searches her face, looking for some wordless confirmation. Finally, Travis lowers his gun, but he doesn’t holster it. “Let’s go back to where you first saw this thing.”

The rational side of her brain is screaming to leave and never come back. But it’s not so rational, is it? They’re getting closer. She can feel it.

Fuck, she could be Helen Keller and still realize something’s up. It would be idiotic to turn back now.

Don’t bitch out, Kearney, she thinks furiously. That’s not what we do.

“Okay,” she acqueices, and Travis’ face glimmers in satisfaction.

Shoulders squared and eyes alert, they retrace her steps. The soft summer light felt warm before, but now it feels harsh and stark against the rich greens and sun-bleached browns.

Neither of them can deny it, now. They’re not alone.

The old graves haven’t changed or moved an inch from where she found them. Nothing monstrous or supernatural looks to have taken place. Still, she can’t help but lower her voice.

“This is the one,” she says quietly. “Éléanor Valet.”

Travis moves in, crouching down to inspect the markings. After barely a moment’s worth, he inhales sharply.

“Does this look familiar to you?”

Brow crinkled, she leans down beside him. “Um… no?”

“No longer shall you face your blight,” he reads breathlessly. He fixes her with a lopsided grin that borders on manic. “It’s part of the poem. Look,” he caresses the stone, “there’s more here, it’s just faded.”

She looks again, and holy shit. “Or fear the dread of the full moon’s light,” Laura reads aloud. He’s right.

Travis sits very still.

“I found my copy of the poem in the wreckage thinking that those motherfuckers wrote a ‘101 Guide on Werewolves’ for tourists,” he says softly, voice weirdly detached. “Turns out, Eliza and Silas were on the scavenger hunt of a lifetime.”

He dips his head. The pressed shirt on his back begins to ripple with how violent he begins to shake.

For a moment, she thinks he’s crying.

But then he throws his head back in a silent laugh, little cracks of air puffing out of his lungs. It builds into a desperate chuckle that leaves him bent over his knees.

This side of him is unlike anything she’s seen before. The pathetic man drinking alone in front of her cell was a different creature entirely. This? This is unhinged.

He stands abruptly.

"Family is everything,” Travis spats in a mocking tone, turning his face of unbridled fury on her. Laura involuntarily takes a step back. “That’s why they came to my fucking town. She was probably looking for a fucking cure."

She watches as he puts himself back together piece by piece, chest heaving around some unimaginable pressure. His eyes remain wild, but where there was a burning devastation radiating from his bones before, a wasteland has replaced it. The fortress has been rebuilt.

It’s unnerving to watch.

Laura is fighting to say something, do something, when Travis strides past her without a second glance.

“Hey!” she calls. “Where are you going? What about the rest of the graves?!”

No response. The petty part of her wants to stick around and force him to either leave her or come back, but then she’d have to be alone. Gritting her teeth, she strides after him, up the stairs, past the gate.

Unexpectedly, he stalks right past the cruiser and heads for the library down the road. There’s a new intensity to his gait, and an added edge to his jaw that wasn’t there before.

Travis crashes through the front doors. The middle-aged woman at the help desk regards them as if she’d been staring into the void, and the void spat them up.

“Um,” she stutters.

“I need access to your computers,” he commands.

The woman’s eyes dart over to Laura for help, but then she gives her a onceover and her face turns even more pale. Travis follows her gaze.

“It’s for police business,” he offers up.

The woman’s eyes go wide as if Travis lightly mentioned there being a homicide taking place in the science fiction section. She nods desperately. “Yes, absolutely! Let me get you in with a guest account.”

She scurries over to one of the computers, and the only other one occupied within the same vicinity is a pimply teenager who takes one look at them and awkwardly flees.

The moment they’re logged in, the woman leaves and Travis settles into the chair like it’s his personal throne. Laura remains standing.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” she hisses. “Let’s keep looking.”

“I thought you said you do research,” he says airily.

She blinks. Laura takes the chair beside him, scooting close enough to slide the keyboard and mouse over. A quick search of ‘Éléanor Marie Valet’ and ‘Colton, New York’ yields several ancestry websites, but the one she clicks on first is a grave index.

It’s a photo of the same plot, and the inscription is as disappointedly faded as the one in person. However, the sidebar has a bit more information.

Born June 18th, 1765 Gévaudan, France

Died November 10th, 1796 Colton, New York

“She was French?” she repeats. Something pings in the back of her brain. “That town sounds… familiar.”

She tries another search, typing “Valet” and “Gévaudan,” adding in “Werewolf” as an afterthought.

It’s as easy as that. Hundreds of thousands of search results come up, and Travis leans in.

“The Beast of Gévaudan is one of the most famous werewolf stories in modern history… Of course. This Valet family knew enough to leave their knowledge behind in a way that wouldn't be destroyed by time.”

Wondrously, his face splits into a wide, unadulterated grin. “This is good, Laura.”

She can’t help but smile back. It’s contagious, and his hope seeps into her own chest. She clicks on a page and scrolls, scanning till she finds it.

“‘The Beast of Gévaudan made its first recorded attack in 1764,’” she reads aloud. “‘A young woman, Marie Jeanne Valet, was tending her cattle when she claimed a wolf-like beast came upon her. She managed to keep it at bay, though terror striked the region as more and more victims were reported.’”

“‘Lone men, women, and children were repeatedly attacked while tending to their livestock… Researchers surmise that upwards of five hundred deaths were attributed to this beast over the three-year span of attacks.’”

Laura exchanges a wordless look with Travis. That’s a lot of death over a very short span of time. And at some point, Marie and her kin must have taken it upon themselves to gain some tricks up their sleeve.

It’s not that hard to believe. Hell, it took one encounter for her to be sitting here next to the cop that kidnapped her, searching up werewolf lore on a library computer. But five hundred deaths? All the work of one werewolf, or more?

Speaking of… Laura types in a few more searches with the added information, pulling up an old genealogy site.

“Shit,” she mutters. This Valet line died out by the mid-1850’s.

“What about cousins?” Travis suggests, and there’s still a hopeful tint to his words. He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. To the average eye, he looks calm and in control, but she’s been around him enough to recognize his tells. Right now, a frenetic energy practically vibrates off of him.

“Maybe they don't hold the surname, but there’s a chance that if this family did know something, they could’ve passed it along,” he adds.

“True, but the American immigrants didn’t exactly thrive over here,” she says grimly. "What do you think brought them over?"

Travis shrugs, the excitement loosening him up a bit. "From what I can recall, France had quite the witch hunt for werewolves. I think… thirty thousand were executed in the mid-17th century out of suspicion.”

Given the attacks almost a hundred years later, the tables obviously turned at some point along the way.

“Maybe that’s where the Vorez family originates from?” she ventures. “If these guys were… werewolf hunters, then there were probably families fleeing from persecution.”

It’s a dismal thought, hunting down fellow immigrants suspected of being a werewolf.

Isn’t that what you’re doing? a little voice needles back.

This is different, she thinks. Silas is dangerous.

So are you. So is he.

Travis’ finger lightly taps the desk. "There's a good chance this poem might not be over. Wherever their next stop would’ve been after North Kill… we need to check there first. Go back to the graves website.”

She pulls it back up, and he leans over to type in the most recent death. Their shoulders brush.

Théo Louis Valet, 1810-1853.

Lincoln, Maine

Travis scrutinizes the computer with a heavy brow as if he could scare the words into changing. The sudden mood shift makes no sense.

Laura frowns. “What? Travis, we have a lead.”

He’s silent for a long moment, still glued to the screen. Finally, he swivels towards her with a grave expression. He steeples his hands like a man about to make a deal with the devil.

“It’s in Maine,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah. It’s close.”

“You’re kidding,” he says flatly.

The ease in which he gives up is infuriating and disappointing all at once, and she grits her teeth, turning back to the computer.

“Where’s Lincoln?” she mutters aloud, opening a new tab and typing it in. “Holy shit, it’s eight hours from here? We could start driving today.”

“We can’t. Not today.”

If they weren’t in a library, she’d probably slap him. “You’re ridiculous,” she hisses. “I thought you wanted to end this?”

There’s no other way to describe it. Travis unravels.

“Of course I want to end this. I want my fucking life back,” he growls. “I want a full night’s rest. I want my niece to go off to college and get out of my shithole of a town. But I can’t just, just be gone for another day like this.”

“How the fuck—” she cuts herself off after an older gentelman in the VHS section gives her a dirty loo, and leans in impatiently. “Why are you always making things so damn complicated?”

“Because there’s lives on the line!” he outright snarls. More people are starting to give them looks, and Travis notices, buckling it back down with visible reluctance. “C’mon.”

She has no real desire to go anywhere with him like this, but she does it all the same. They leave with a wide berth around them, the scant library visitors parting around them like waves.

Only when they’re back outside does Travis rub his face, looking down on her with a bleary set of eyes.

“I can’t just— I-it’s not. Fuck,” he says with a deep breath. “You keep forgetting that you’re not supposed to be here. Right? You’re not supposed to still be alive. My family would kill you in a heartbeat if they knew about you, all in the name of keeping themselves safe.”

“You can’t… let that be what stops you,” she says awkwardly. Yeah, she’d prefer not to die, but he can’t seriously be saying that they’re not going to go any further just because of what might happen to her?

“You’re not stopping me from doing anything,” he says increduously, as if the very notion is stupid. If they weren’t in the middle of an argument right now, her face would probably flush like a tomato.

As it is, she scowls. “Well, that’s what I’m hearing. You’re worried your ‘little ma’ is going to put a bullet between my eyes, isn’t that right?”

He shuts his eyes as if the very effort of looking at her is beneath him.

“You’re being awfully reckless with your life, Miss Kearney. I don’t think you really get just how important it is that I don’t, ah, rock the boat. Y’see,” he says with emphasis, leaning in like she’s a lost kid on the playground, “There’s expectations of me that I gotta meet, or it’s going to tip them off, and that’s the end of this little venture we have going on. Did you get all of that?”

“So, we just wait for the grave to grow legs and walk?”

He scoffs in disbelief, his little effort at intimidating her failed. He moves to get into the cruiser, and she can’t just, just give up like that.

Laura catches his wrist and pulls him back. “No, look. I’m sorry,” she says earnestly. “I’m just saying… sooner or later, you’re going to have to go. That, or continue to wait for things to line up for you, but I don’t think either of our luck is that good.”

His eyes stray towards her hand, and she belatedly releases him.

“I don’t like this,” he says finally. “These risks.”

“I know,” she replies delicately.

He wets his lips. “No detours.”

“None.

“And no more splitting up,” he adds, softer this time. The change in tone takes her aback. She follows his gaze; he’s looking at the blades of grass still sticking to her legs.

When she doesn’t respond, he cocks a brow meaningfully.

“Done,” Laura agrees readily.

Travis nods, giving her another onceover before getting in the car. “Wipe your shoes before you step in!” he calls before slamming the door shut, and she rolls her eyes. He doesn’t even blink when she plops down, mud and grass and all.

He pulls onto the quiet road, and they leave the town cemetery behind without another word.

They don’t need to talk. Enough has already been said.

#fuck this was long #another lost soul #laura kearney #the quarry #the quarry fanfic #travis hackett #the quarry fanfiction #laura kearneyxtravis hackett #hackearny #slow burn #enemies to lovers #so many tropes in here #you might want to read on ao3 at this point #but I post here for people like you #I love you

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foolishquarry · 2 years

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Max‘Verses List

(current werewolf headcanons can be found HERE)

On The Way Instead of his roommate keeping an eye out for him and phoning the news on his acceptance letter, Max brought in a last round of mail while packing the car and was blindsided by his rejection from college. Right before his and Laura’s long drive to Hackett’s Quarry. He shoved it in a tool bag in the trunk to process later and did his best not to let the disappointment show with chill playlists, jokes, and an open window to keep his persistently wet eyes dry, but the streak of bad luck didn’t ease up there... (RP taking place before reaching Hackett’s Quarry in the prologue.)

∘ Canon: Follows canon events where Max and Laura banter, swerve to avoid something, eerie woods events happen, and Creepy Cop is encountered.

∘ Harbinger Motel: Rattled by almost hitting something, the woods being eerie, and encountering Creepy Cop, Max catches a break when Laura looks into his dewy eyes and decides not to keep pushing for Hackett’s Quarry. They go to the motel. (RP that branches from the point of deciding not to go to camp a day early after all.)

∘ I Think We Hit Something: Max doesn’t look up in time and misses the QTE to swerve around whatever was sitting in the road. Was that a person? To make matters worse, the car’s stuck in some mud beside the road and a cop pulls up to finish off the victim on the road. (Max and Laura accidentally cause Silas’ death in the prologue and still manage to See Too Much.)

The Station Max and Laura have been abducted by Sheriff Hackett and are being kept in what appears to be a decommissioned police station. They don’t know what this man wants from them or how long he intends to keep them locked up. (RP taking place from the point of abduction)

∘ Canon: Max is infected and Travis has to decide what he wants to do based on how these college kids behave in his care.

∘ First One In: Laura was mauled by Chris Hackett in the Lodge cellar and Max was the one frantically dragging her up the stairs when Travis arrived.

Quarry Time Whatever lead to this moment, Max Brinly made it to the scenic Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp. (Rps taking place from the start of summer camp allllll the way to epilogue.)

∘ Hungry Boy: Locked in the tree house attic, wolfed out Max intends to wait to the night’s end without hurting anyone. Assuming no one opens the latch. The whole “not hurting anyone” part was decided while he was lucid and he’s a little aggro in his current state.

∘ Good Boy: He doesn’t know any of what’s happened since the sun went down but Max has come to with the moon still full and his skin back on. He’s cured! … Now what?

∘ Good Idea: Max and Laura arrived in camp on time! Max spends the summer with his fellow counselors and discovers the dark side of Hackett’s Quarry alongside everyone else. (Optional expansion of this ‘verse HERE)

∘ On The Way: Jacob never sabotaged the van. He does, however, clip something in the road as they head out a little late and fucks the van up anyway- and whatever they hit follows their tow to the Harbinger Motel. The counselors have a horror movie bad time instead of a party night as they wait for morning repairs. Bonus points for all those No Bars cellphones, easily cut phone lines, Mamma Hackett being the (kind granny-to-mean spitter) motel owner, and everyone thinking the creepy cop is the one slaughtering people instead of trying to keep them safe while he hunts Silas.

Summer Done It’s been an eventful night but the moon’s shine is finally fading.

∘ The Basement: Max waited on the Island’s dock for hours. To his dismay, he doses off and wakes up not to Laura’s return but being abducted a second time by Travis Hackett. Why is going home such an impossible thing? (RP based on Laura’s Basement ending, because Travis needs leverage to keep her docile and Max knows too much.)

∘ This Is Fine: Max has a lot of therapy ahead of him and still craves for meat when the moon is too bright. He doesn’t even know where to begin answering all the questions from family and friends and probably never will. Still. Better than being dead or back at that police station. (Any RP where Max has survived Hackett’s Quarry and had a chance to start moving on. But did killing Chris Hackett really end the curse?)

∘ New Normal: They failed to lift the curse, if it was even possible in the first place. Can Max find a way to accept his new normal?

#The Quarry RP #MaxBrinlyVerses #for my rp partners to look over eheheh #sorry this took so long to type up and probably still has some mistakes #but it'll do for now it has all the basics #NoReblogPls this is for my RPs

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dreamqueenkala · 10 months

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FROM PARTY TO PERISH

Previous Chapter

Laura Kearney is my best friend and is currently missing.

Max Brinly is my best friend and is currently missing.

Ryan Erzahler is appreciative towards me.

Jacob Custos is concerned for my health and attached to me.

Abigail Blyg is distasteful of me.

Dylan Lenivy finds me adorable.

Emma Mountebank greatly enjoys my company.

Kaitlyn Ka is entertained by me.

Nicholas Furcillo is protective of me and concerned for my mental health.

Travis Hackett has no relation to me.

Chris Hackett finds me reliable but aggressive.

I am alive, sane and burned but otherwise healthy.

Tarot Visions:

Temperance

Strength

Branches:

•Skeptic BFF: Having been best friends with Max and Laura, I knew they weren't okay. With their absence, I grew skeptical of Chris Hackett and his promises.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Tape loading...

Load complete.

Playing Tape #13

Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp Entrance

18:55 August 22–Carter Rhodes

As Jacob finished deciding the group, I cut in quickly with a stammer in my voice. "G-Guys, wait." All eyes fell on me and my breathe caught in my throat, my anxiety spiking.

"What's up, Carter?" Jacob hummed, tilting his head like a lost puppy.

"You're lookin' kinda spooked, dude. Chris really freak you out?" Dylan added, brows furrowed despite his playful tone.

"N-No it...it's not Chris." The tone of my voice must've been terrified because Nick stepped forward with his hands placed on my shoulders.

"Carter, is it about when you collapsed?"

Emma stood to attention at that, her yes frantically searching my face. "Woah woah woah—you collapsed?"

"Yeah, in the cabin when Jacob went to get the bags."

"Uh, he collapsed out here, too, when we gave out the phones." Dylan added, his own brown eyes now full of concern.

"Seriously!?"

I trembled as the group grew collectively louder, my breathing becoming erratic. "G-Guys! GUYS!" As they fell silent I fumbled with my inhaler, taking a breather from it and holding it before exhaling. "It's my clairvoyance."

"Your what?"

"It's a sixth sense. It's the kind of thing that causes people to feel a sense of Deja Vu." I explained, fumbling with my sleeves. Ryan, familiar with the term, leaned in beside Dylan, eyeing me curiously. "Basically, I've been getting these visions. You guys know I had a weird sense for things that were happening around camp."

"Yeah, like when you stopped that one kid from throwing a rock at the boathouse. Remember, the dock collapsed?" Jacob hummed thoughtfully, nodding along as if he understood.

"R-Right, well...I-I started finding these tarot cards around the lodge. Every time I find one it just burns up in my hand, for some reason, but then I black out and see...stuff." I continued, eying my slightly ashen palm.

"See stuff? Like what?"

"Like danger. I-I don't know if any of it'll happen, but I'm just anxious." I tried to drop the subject quickly, shrugging my shoulders. "It's no big deal, c-can you guys just be careful? It's got me on edge..."

Branch Selected:

•Honest Seer: Deciding to share my clairvoyance with the group, they appreciate my concern and will be more cautious.

"Duh! Can't have any fun if we're getting hurt, dude." Jacobs kind smile had me relaxing slightly, nodding as the others quickly agreed.

"Thanks guys."

"Alright! Let's go, party committee, we've got shit to do." The group disbanded, but not without a few concerned looks sent my way. Deciding to head off with Kaitlyn, Ryan and Dylan, the four of us headed inside the lodge for a bit.

"We might as well charge our phones a little. Think Mr. H will get mad if we slip into his office real quick?" Dylan inquired, fiddling with his phone in his back pocket. Kaitlyn, already knowing where this was going, shook her head and raised her hands defensively.

"Whatever you dorks get up to, I was not a part of it. See you at the fire pit, losers." With a peace sign and wave she made her way out through the back doors, heading towards the fire pit. Blinking owlishly, I turned to face the other two only to discover they were half way to the office already. With a yelp, I scampered my way to their side, bumping lightly into Ryan's left arm on accident.

He shot me a shy smile as he opened the door, allowing me to enter first before following, Dylan hot in his heels. "Alright...the inner sanctum."

"Just an office." Ryan replied, shutting the door behind us. Turning on his heel, Dylan was quick to raise a brow at the deep-voiced male.

"Uh...this is where the magic happens." He waved his phone around to add to the joke, grinning.

With a playful scoff Ryan shook his head, directing Dylan to the wall plug. "Yeah. Let's just make this quick."

"Sure. Just gimme a sec to get this going..." The brunette took our phones and set them up to charge, fiddling with the outlet for a moment. "And...engage."

Facing Ryan and I, Dylan smiled almost bashfully at the guy, glancing at me only for a second before his gaze met Ryan's. "Podcasts?"

"Yeah."

"Alright."

Rolling my eyes at the awkward vibes between the two, I started to move around the office, examining the items on Mr. Hackett's desk whilst making use of the first aid kit in one of the drawers.

"Uh, what's it called? The one that you're listening to right now."

"Uh, 'Bizarre Yet Bona Fide'."

"So, like, ghosts and stuff?"

"It's, like...um, yeah, the weird and wonderful." Ryan seemed to be struggling to explain to Dylan, probably already aware the brunette didn't have as much interest in the topic as he did himself. "Digging up weird mysteries and discussing if they're, well, bona fide."

"Heh. 'Boner' fide? Get it? Boner..."

"Ugh, your wit knows no bounds, Dyl." I cringed at Dylan's joke, shaking my head as I picked up a photo frame from the desk.

"Right...um, so, you already checking out what Mr. H keeps in his private den of sin, Carter?" Dylan hummed, moving to stand beside me as I examined the three people in the photograph.

"Hey, uh, I dunno, man. I feel kinda weird going through his stuff..." Ryan did indeed feel uncomfortable, but I suppose that's due to his long relationship with the guy prior to becoming a counselor.

"Okay, well, I don't. Carter obviously doesn't." Moving around the desk and examining the drawers, Dylan continues. "I mean, come on, what king of dirty secrets is the owner of a summer camp full of impressionable young children gonna have anyway?"

"Your sarcasm is blatantly clear, Dylan. Maybe tone it down? You know Ryan and Mr. Hackett are closer than the rest of us." I hummed, setting the photo frame down.

Dylan is annoyed with my response.

Ryan is pleased with my defense.

"Not Mr. H. I know. He's cool."

"Always been cool to me..."

"Woah, look at this old thing." With a small sigh, Dylan's eyes found the phone the same time mine did, his hand already grasping the receiver. "Hey, gimme your number. I wanna try it out."

"Why?" Ryan furrowed his brows at the implication, jaw taut and shoulders stiff.

His quick wit succeeded once again, though the words he used made my shoulders tense. "Uh, so that I can ask you out on a date. Duh."

Granted, all of us were aware how attracted to Ryan Dylan truly was, but it didn't hurt any less. I'd spent a lot of the summer pining after some of the others with the smallest of crushes, and yet they never seemed to go anywhere. Because of that, I'd kept the personal aspects of my mind and feelings mostly to myself, hiding the pain and sorrow of watching them flirt with each other behind shy smiles and sweet banter.

"Mmm, smooth." His tone was playfully sarcastic, but the glint that formed in Ryan's eyes told me he was amused.

Leave it to me to find a way to fucking third wheel, again. I always want the people I can't have. I thought with a sigh.

Dylan's sudden surprised 'hello?' startled me from my thoughts, blinking as I watched him furrow his brows. I furrowed my own brows as his expression showed utter confusion, watching him fiddle with the dial.

"What? Who is it?"

"Uhhh, hello...?" Slowly setting it back down, I watched him shrug it off, but my stomach rolled with discomfort. "That's weird. I thought I heard someone."

"Maybe you should've asked them out on a date?"

"Dammit, I missed my shot!"

I moved to stand by the phone as Dylan moved around more, pointing out other objects along the way that lined the office. My left hand twitched, reaching up to grasp the phone. "Hey Dyl?"

He turned away from the shotgun on the wall he'd been ogling, facing me with his hands on his hips. "Yeah? What's up, Car?"

I grasped the phone lightly and lifted it, hesitating to put it up to my ear. "You're sure you heard something?" He shrugged, seemingly over it already, though Ryan's gaze lingered on me. Gently, I pressed the phone to my ear and inhaled sharply, eyes wide.

"Silas..."

With a yelp, I dropped the phone, the plastic having suddenly felt very hot in my hands. It clattered off the desk, the dial and receiver smoking slightly as I cradled my red, blistered palm to my chest. Ryan stepped forward, alarmed by my cry, whilst Dylan knelt down to examine the phone.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"Are you okay?" I nodded slowly, eying my palm with wide grey eyes as the skin boiled an almost unsightly pink. "You need to run that under some cold water."

"I'll be fine..." Glancing up, Dylan seemed to perk up as he circled the desk again, moving the chair.

"Hey, look at this." We both stepped up to peer behind him, eyes gazing over the darkened wood in surprise.

"A...trapdoor?"

"Guess it goes to the basement." Dylan set his hands on his hips, turning to look at us with suspicion in his doe eyes. "But why would Mr. H have a secret trapdoor in his office...that goes to the basement?"

"Maybe it was here before this was his office?" Ryan suggested, though I felt inclined to agree with Dylan.

"If it's nothing...off it's most likely used for storage." I hummed thoughtfully, rubbing my palm lightly. "Though...this whole office feels off to me."

"Uh, yeah...so he can make a quick getaway when the heat comes down, maybe." Dylan suggested, eying the wood seems apprehensively.

Ryan, already irritated by the implications, scoffed and replied rather aggressively. "Uh, or...it's for storage. Go ahead, open it up."

Though hesitant, the brunette crouched down to lift the door, heaving slightly at the heaviness of it. "Alright, well, it looks like a pit of eternal darkness, so..."

"You're being dramatic."

"Climb down, take a look—look, you can squeeze through there."

"You opened it. You take a look."

Dylan hesitated and I bit my lower lip, slipping past him just as he moved to shut it. "I'll look."

"Wha—hey, Carter!"

Slipping my smaller frame through the gap, I grasped the ladder and began to make my way down, hitting the ground with a gasp. Glancing around, my eyes adjusted and I could barely make out the shelves lining the storm cellar, boxes piled along the walls I could see.

"So, uh...what's down there?" Dylan called, his voice echoing slightly. Feeling a cold veil of dread slip over my shoulders, I backed into the ladder slightly, inhaling sharply.

"It's, uh...dark as hell down here. Can't really see anything..." I replied, flitting my gaze around frantically. Something was off—really off—and this basement/storm cellar made my skin crawl with terror.

"Just come back up, then. This things making my arm tired." Nodding slowly, I turned to face the ladder, beginning the climb. My foot slipped on one of the rungs, the metal creaking as I yelped. Just as I clung to the bars again, my fingers touched something familiar. Curiously, I pulled the card from the wedge in the rungs, gazing over the surface of the Justice card. A woman, clad in a long red dress with a gold crown on her head, waved a sword in her right hand, the left occupied by some form of a bird.

I gripped the rungs tightly and winced, struggling against the uproar my brain created. My vision blurred and my ears rang loud, like sirens, my blood pumping faster through my veins. I clenched my teeth and whined, though this time I remained semi-conscious.

Shaking my head, I found myself still clinging to the ladder, my head swimming, and practically raced up the metal, the tarot card nothing but ash in the air. "Nope. No. Nu uh. Nope. Shut this fucking door right now, I swear to God, Dyl—" I stammered frantically, accepting the brunettes outstretched hand and scrambling from the gap. The trapdoor slammed shut behind me and I panted, pressing myself back into Ryan's chest. "Holy—this place is giving me the heebie jeebies right now."

Dylan stepped past us as I calmed down, settling husked in Mr. Hackett's desk chair. "Ooh, that's a nice chair. I could get used to this." He cooed, spinning it slowly as he relaxed against the back.

"You better hope Mr. H doesn't catch you takin' his baby for a joyride." Ryan snapped back, a faint grin on his face as he patted my shoulder.

Dylan scoffed, coming to an abrupt stop in the chair as he smiled up at Ryan. "Ring-a-ding-a-ding—Ooh, sorry bud, gotta take this. One second." He reached over and grabbed the burnt-out phone, pressing it up to his ear now that the smoke had died down. "Hello, Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp! What doesn't kill you will make you stronger. What can I do for you on this darn-tootin' doozie of a day?"

I snickered softly as Ryan's grin grew, both of us thoroughly amused by Dylan's playfulness. "Is that your impression of Mr. H?"

Dylan raised his hand to silence Ryan, humming thoughtfully. "Uh, yeah...uh-huh, yeah...yeah I—You're absolutely right, he does need to be nicer to Dylan." His gaze flicked up to meet Ryan's again, though I felt myself slink away from the adoration in his eyes. "And uh, what's that? You want him to give Dylan his phone number? That's a little forward, but I can see what I can do..."

"Smooth." Ryan took it with a grin, shaking his head as Dylan set the phone down. He dug through the drawers, retrieving a notebook from the left side. Flipping through it, he tilted his head.

"Oh. Laura Kearney and Max Brinly." I stiffened at the mention of their names, gazing at the notebook with wide eyes.

"Oh, yeah. Those are the ones that never showed up." Ryan seemed suddenly intrigued, facing Dylan slightly as the brunette continued.

"...yeah? It's because of these goobers that we had to work extra shifts this summer." He stuffed the notebook away, standing from the chair with a huff.

"Did...did it say why they didn't show?"

Dylan paused by Mr. Hackett's bedroom door, glancing at me over his shoulder. "Ah, no...no, it didn't say."

I pursed my lips and nodded, folding my arms over my chest. I could feel their eyes on me but made no remark, moving to join them by the door.

Dylan and Ryan are suspicious of my behavior regarding the missing counselors.

"Right..." Dylan grasped the door handle and gave it a wiggle, unsuccessfully as it was locked. "Yo, my guy, toss me the keys."

"Uh, so you can poke around in Chris's private area?"

"It's not like we'd touch anything, Ryan. Don't you wanna learn more about him, anyway?" Ryan gave me a glance and pursed his lips, tossing the keys to Dylan, whom caught them easily.

"Fine. Don't let me regret it."

"Not likely..."

Dylan opened the door and I peered around his shoulders as we entered, gazing around the practically barren space. The walls were bland and there were no photos or personal items decorating the room. The only thing I could see was the bathroom to our right, the bedroom to our left, and a small closet ahead of us.

Dylan immediately began to sift through the closet, eying his clothes. "Fashion icon!"

"Mr. H knows what he likes."

"Yeah, I'm sure he does—"

"W-Wait, Dylan, look!" I pressed my hand against the wall behind the shirts, sliding the hangers to the side with wide eyes.

"Yo..." I pushed at the wall and watched as it opened, a faint white light peering from the secret room. Dylan came up behind me, a hand on my shoulder as we trekked deeper, disregarding Ryan's warning.

"Ryan, you, uh...might wanna see this." Dylan muttered, watching as I stepped up to the table.

"What...the actual fuck is this!?" My eyes darted between each screen, wide with shock and disgust. "He's been watching us! What kind of creepy shit is this?" Dylan grasped my shoulder as Ryan joined us at the desk, squeezing lightly in an attempt to calm me down.

"These monitors...this is the camp." Dylan was dumbfounded, his voice soft as he bent over to examine the screens individually.

"He's spying on us. Perverted little—"

"No no...I mean—No, no...he can't be..." Despite how quick he was to reply, even Ryan seemed incredulous to what he was witnessing. "These are just...They're all different trails in the woods around camp."

"Uh...sure."

"Most of the cameras are pointed away from camp, so it's not like he's spying on the kids, unless they wandered out into the woods." Ryan's explanation seemed more for himself then us, Dylan and I sharing a glance. "You know, these are just...they're probably just...trail cameras."

"What are trail cameras?"

"They're used by hunters to track live game on open land. If that is what this footage comes from, then it's probably prep for the hunting season now that summers over." I eyed the cameras apprehensively, leaning against Dylan's side as my breathing started to spike again.

"Hey, you okay...?" He muttered, petting my hand. I nodded, eyes still locked on the live feed displayed before me.

"This shit's just sketchy as hell, Dyl."

"I'm with you there..." Dylan cleared his throat, standing up to face Ryan with sarcasm lacing his tone. "Alright? So, trail cameras, weird random shit...I'm going to upgrade Mr. H from 'super creepy pervert with spy cam' to, you know, 'super crazy conspiracy hunter'."

"To be fair, Bigfoot is not a conspiracy..."

"Okay, fine, how about an aspiring cryptozoologist?" Eyebrows raising, he gestured to Ryan with a smug, taunting expression. "Hey, maybe he likes that podcast you listen to..."

"Sure, yeah, let's go with that."

"Doesn't make this any less creepy." The two turned their attention back to me as I leaned over the desk, eying the monitors with distaste and discomfort. "I mean, look...it's Abi and Nick...." The duo barely crossed paths with a trail camera before disappearing from view again.

"Freaky." Dylan shuddered, pressing his hand once again to my back, this time the small of it. I couldn't resist the shudder that wracked my body at the unintentionally intimate gesture. "Okay, but....why go through all the trouble of hiding this room...through a secret door in the closet?"

"Ahhh...I mean, it's not exactly secret, right? Like it's just...hidden by...stuff."

"Your argument is flawed, Ryan. You can't tell me you aren't at least slightly creeped out by this."

"Yeah, that's what a secret is, Ryan. It's weird. It's major league weird—"

"Okay, yeah, I don't disagree with you, but—"

"Oh my God, stop defending him! This shits probably recorded, and with Jacob and Emma disappearing half the summer to go have a quick fuck in the woods, there's no telling what Mr. Hackett has seen!" I snapped, palms pressed to my temples incredulously as I glared at Ryan.

"I-It's none of our business, okay?" Ryan seems just as done with this uncomfortable conversation as I was, trying to urge Dylan out of the room. "A-And if you really need to know you can ask him tomorrow. I'm sure that won't be an awkward conversation, like, at all."

"Okay, yeah. Maybe I will." Dylan conceded and I groaned, watching Ryan began to make his way back to the door.

"Alright. I-I'm leaving the 'secret lair'. Have fun."

"Hey, you just admitted that it's a secret lair!"

"Dylan...." He turned to face me, glancing behind himself quickly before scampering to my side.

"Hey, hey, chill. It's fine. I-It's just some weird shit we gotta deal with, alright?" The brunette attempted to reassure me, hands on my shoulders as his thumbs caressed the pulse points in my neck.

"I-I know, it's just...freaky." He sighed and patted my head gently, smiling reassuringly as he guided me away from the monitors.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. Let's just get out of here, yeah?" With a nod, we made our way to the door but I stopped short, gazing over at the wall opposite the door with furrowed brows.

"Gimme a sec." I muttered, moving over to the boxes. On top of one, rested a small pile of letters, one with Max Brinly scrawled across the mint envelope.

Branch Updated:

•Skeptic BFF: Having been best friends with Max and Laura, I knew they weren't okay. With their absence, I grew skeptical of Chris Hackett and his promises.

•••

Because I stayed with Ryan and Dylan in the lodge, I discovered clues as to my friends disappearances.

Pursing my lips, I grasped them and slipped them into my free pocket, turning back to the door. "Les go."

Dylan led me back through the closet and put the door, making our way over to Ryan. "So, uh....gotta anything going on back home...? School or...?"

"Eh....Jury's out." Ryan seemed deeply displeased with the two of us, though at the moment I didn't care.

"Right. Understood."

"Can we get the fuck out of here—"

"Girlfriend?" My head perked up, mouth dry at the almost desperate tone in Dylan's voice.

"Uh...not...exactly..." Ryan, as confused and flustered as I was but for totally different reasons, gazed at Dylan skeptically.

"Boyfriend...?"

"Oh my god, stop fucking flirting in front of me, for fuck's sake! I'm already emotionally distraught and don't need this background rejection shit in my head, yeah? Jesus fucking—" Completely oblivious to the red hues on their faces and the baffled expressions they wore, I moved out of the office quickly, hands in my hair as I breathed heavily.

Dylan is baffled and hurt by my outburst.

Ryan is startled and worried by my outburst.

Feelings fucking sucked. I hated it. I completely forgot my phone in my haste to escape and groaned, kicking the wall outside on the way out the back door before stomping down the steps. Heavy footsteps behind me and the slam of a heavy door indicated the other two were catching up, but I didn't turn around. I couldn't look at them—more specifically Dylan—when I'd already let my emotions get the best of me and spilled such private shit.

"Hey! Carter, wait, jesus—" He stumbled across the dirt path, grasping my arm and extending his arm out with my phone in hand. "Here, you left this."

I glanced at his hand and snatched the device, shoving it in my other back pocket without a word. Dylan sighed, Ryan just behind us a few yards as the brunette reached for my shoulder. I brushed him off, taking longer strides in an effort to escape the situation, my face flushed.

"Dude, c'mon, I didn't—"

"You didn't, what, Dylan? Didn't mean to make me feel like a fucking third wheel? Didn't mean to just blatantly flirt with one of my close friends despite the fact that I'm so obviously attracted to you? Didn't mean to eye fuck Ryan like a dog in heat!?" Dylan seemed mortified at my outburst, stepping back a bit with his hands raised and eyes wide.

"Woah, woah, dude, what the fuck—?"

"Yeah, what the fuck! I like you, dipshit! I've told you that twice in the past week and you've blown me off in favor of seeking out Ryan like it didn't fucking matter." My eyes were burning, vision blurred by the tears building in them as I clenched my fists. "I get it, if it's not reciprocated, but don't make me feel like shit and treat me like a goddamn shadow."

I spun on my heel and marched away, aggressively wiping at my eyes. I could hear him and Ryan start talking yards behind me and held back a whimper, ruffling my hair. It didn't matter. I regretted being such a dick about it already, but it didn't make it hurt less. I just couldn't help the way I felt for him, or Jacob, or Max. It's the way my life had been. I was just so tired of being hurt.

I sniffled softly and huffed, smacking my cheeks lightly and shaking my head. "Stupid fucking feelings, fuck—" With a breathy sigh, I plastered a smile on my face and waved at Kaitlyn, whom had already set up the large logs in the fire pit and was snapping photos of the island and the sunset.

"Hey Kait."

"Hey! Took you guys long enough."

"Yeah..."

"Hey Kaitlyn. Guess what—" Dylan started with a flourish, Ryan behind him a few feet as I came to stand directly beside the small woman. "Mr. H is a voyeuristic creep. He has hidden cameras all around camp and a secret room."

"No—No, that's not..."

"Uh...woah, now. Back up. What!?" I snickered at Kaitlyn's reaction, but my expression quickly fell when Dylan met my eyes. I scowled slightly, then it dropped to a sad frown, and I forced myself to look away.

"His eyes are everywhere. He's always watching us."

"Knock it off, man. He—he's just got...trail cameras set up. Y'know, forest surveillance. That kind of thing." Kaitlyn seemed to relax almost immediately as Ryan explained more, shrugging lightly.

"Oh."

"Wha—you don't think that's weird?"

Obviously not based on her immediate response. "Well he's got a perimeter to check, kids to protect. Yeah, probably just gotta keep track of wildlife."

"You guys have no imagination." Dylan sighed, slumping slightly.

"So, uh...what's going on here? Everything ready?"

She fidgeted with her phone for a moment, scrolling on it before showing it off to the two boys, then myself. "I-I did see a weird light in the treehouse across the lake. Yeah, that's pretty spooky. Maybe it's your girlfriend, Ryan."

"'The Hag of Hackett's Quarry'." He hummed, his tone just as teasing.

"Ugh, I told you never to say 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry' again."

"What's wrong with saying 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry'?"

"I'm gonna be the 'Hag of Hacking up a lung' if you guys don't shut up about it." I fake gagged, eliciting chuckles from the trio as Kaitlyn shared a small smile with me.

"You know, I just realized, we may never see each other again after tonight." Kaitlyn mentioned, shifting her weight. Dylan, ever the sarcastic quip prepared, blinked at her.

"You can't have just realized that."

"Just tryna set the mood."

"What mood?"

"The mood. The vibe. Y'know."

"Speaking of setting the mood...I have work to do."

Dylan interjected, setting himself down on the nearest log. "Okay? Because playlists don't make themselves...I mean, I guess they do, but..."

Kaitlyn giggles softly, shaking her head as turned to Ryan. "Alright Ry-guy. Time to get wood."

"Yikes. Wording."

"Oh, I know what I said." I coughed beside her, cheeks aflame with the innuendo, though it only brought back the memory of back at the lodge and I huffed. Two familiar figures appeared through the trees, arms laden with long branches and small sticks. "Abi. Nick. Just in time."

"We got wood!" Abi practically sang the words, her high pitched voice making me gag dramatically out of her line of sight. Dylan snickered softly and Ryan gave me a disappointed expression, though he was fighting his own grin.

"Nice. But we've already done that joke."

Abigail seemed confused, and Nick quite flustered. "It's more just...kindling."

"Oh, that's all we need. There's already a big pile of logs here." Kaitlyn made it look easy to reassure people with her way with words. Sure, I was pretty charismatic but I was also kind of shy, whilst Kaitlyn was very outgoing. She had a sense of presence I often lacked.

"We could've gotten more but there was a hog—or a boar...but Nick was very very brave and took one for the team." Abigail smiled softly at Nick, though I couldn't help but screw up my nose at the way she worded it.

"You've miserably failed to make that sound charming, Blyg." Her gaze snapped to me and she frowned, scoffing.

"Oh my gosh, it's can't be! The Hog of Hackett's Quarry!" Kaitlyn gasped, and I rolled my eyes once again, though sincerely from the amount of cringe I felt from that comment alone.

"What?"

"Idiot." I coughed, shuffling over to sit on Ryan's left as I did so.

"Thought you hated that phrase." Ryan piped up, raising a brow at the short woman with curious interest.

With the most serious expression she could manage, Kaitlyn replied. "Big jokes take big sacrifices."

"You're so brave."

I tuned them out for a moment, letting my head fall into my hands as I gazed at my feet. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the woods and the fire pit as it sank further beyond the horizon. My shadow cast across the ground, to me, appeared very disheveled and weak, as though it had been worn down. That was probably likely to be more true later, when whatever weird ass premonitions I'd seen came true.

A sudden high pitched whining startled me, my head snapping up as two orange streams lit up the sky before bursting. Fireworks. That didn't sound very careful, but somehow, I fell that dread that had been gouging at my heart settle slightly.

"Special delivery!" Emma called as she and Jacob appeared, a wheelbarrow guided by the latter. It was chock full of small watermelons and beer, and a shotgun was slung by its strap over Emma's shoulder.

Immediately noticing the dangerous device, Kaitlyn stepped forward with her palm up, cautious but alert. "Whoa, whoa whoa! Where the hell did that gun come from?"

"Wha—dude relax! It's not even real." Jacob was quick to reply, quickly altering his words at Kaitlyn's baffled expression. "Well—I mean, it's a real gun but it's just for shooting bears."

"We found it in the storage room." Emma shrugged. At the blatantly disapproving and stern look on Kaitlyn's face, Jacob relented.

"Okay. Okay, we'll put it down."

"Thank you. Guns are no joke, dipshit."

Despite the seriousness of the discussion, Jacob easily turned things fun again as he hyped up something else in the wheelbarrow. "And...AND...we bring you a hand-picked selection of only the finest that Hackett's Quarry has to offer..." Nick and mused moved closer, the boy grasping at an orange bag that rested on top of the watermelon pile.

"No freaking way!"

"Yes, freaking way—"

Jacob and Nick immediately broke into song, both of them dancing like lunatics as they sang. "'Pop pop, Peanut Butter Butter Pops! Pop, pop, pop 'em in your mouth!'"

"Pop!" Jacob added, shimmying his hips as Nick waved the bag around.

"I didn't even know you could still find these anywhere." Nick murmured in awe.

I leaned over towards Emma, giving the two curious but disturbed looks as they bantered over the bag. "These two will probably never get any weirder." I murmured.

"Yeah, they're like clowns." Emma snickered and I shook my head, resting it against her shoulder.

"How're you doing, Em?"

Emma appreciates my concern for her emotional state.

She exhaled softly and shrugged lightly, reaching up with her other hand to gently thread her fingers through my hair. "I'm alright. He's still hooked and I just...ugh."

"I know." I didn't really. She had such an amazing guy pining after her—a true teddy bear with a heart of gold and love and kindness to spare for everyone—and she was throwing it away simply because she didn't want long distance? I couldn't understand why. Jacob was, in my blatant opinion, well worth long distance.

"Emma?" We both turned our gazes to the tall ravenette, whom held his large hand out to the blonde. "Please hand me the shotgun."

"Wha—so you're going to shoot me over them?"

"No, dumbass! Okay, we are going to...shoot for them." Jacob smiled as he held the shotgun in his hand, waving the peanut butter treat bag in his left.

"Nah, dude. Absolutely not. No." Nick was quick to backdown, obviously uncomfortable with the weapon, though I couldn't decipher why.

Kaitlyn swooped in as the testosterone spiked once again, shaking her head. "Okay, there is no way I'm leaving you dillweeds alone with a gun."

"Kaitlyn, there is a designated practice range over past those trees there." I pointed out, earning a skeptical glance from her and a surprised one from Jacob. "What? I was the wildlife instructor—I had to carry a tranq gun!"

Blinking, Jacob continued, waving his arms wildly as he tossed the bag back in the barrow. "You and me. Old fashioned shootout. First prize: Peanut Butter Butterpops, all to yourself."

Hesitant, Nick narrowed his eyes and inhaled. "Dude..."

"I guess you don't want them then, huh."

Nick glanced behind him and shrugged, suddenly very stoic. "Fine. You're on."

"Oh, dear lord, I do not like the aggression in his tone." I hummed, though the blonde beside me had a different reaction to share, nibbling at her lower lip as she eyed the Aussie's form.

"Oh, I do."

Kaitlyn stepped up with her hand outstretched as she demanded for the gun, causing Jacob to pout like a kicked puppy. Watching Jacob try to convince her to side with him was entertaining only for a moment before I moved to sit down again, returning to my place beside Ryan.

"You guys have fun and try not to shoot each other in the face." I called, then paused, turning on my heel. "Actually, don't shoot each other. At all." Nick and Jacob raised their hands in defense before the latter punched the former in the dick, quickly moving to follow Kaitlyn while Nick was down. The rest of us settled for chilling out around the fire pit, Dylan setting some tunes and all of us idly chatting.

It wasn't until the orange in the sky had just dissipated that the trio returned, shotgun slung over Kaitlyn's shoulder and both the boys seemingly awed but dejected. "I take it Kait surprised you and whooped your ass when you, inevitably, dicked around?" I cooed playfully, alerting the rest of the group to their arrival. Jacob rolled his eyes at My greeting, moving to sit on the log between Ryan and Dylan. Kaitlyn took her place on Dylan's right, setting the shotgun beside her, whilst Nick took the spot to my left.

"Hardy har har. Why are you guys so mean to me?" Jacob pouted, and I took that as evidence they'd bullied him a bit too much.

"Aww, sorry bud. It's not your fault, Kaitlyn and I just have proper training, that's all. I'm sure she'll share." I reassured him, sending the tall jock a smile he returned after a moment of thought.

"Yeah. I don't even like peanut butter." Kaitlyn quipped, Nick's head whipping around to gaze at her.

"Then why'd you even shoot!?"

"To teach you a lesson, numb nuts." I snorted at her quick wit, rubbing my side as Nick elbowed me, his cheeks flushed. Jacob grabbed a beer from the ice chest he'd brought along, popping it open. I blinked, a sense of Deja Vu settling over me, and held out my hand.

"Jacob, toss me one? I wanna shotgun it." His eyes lit up, Dylan and Ryan both turning their attention to me at those words.

"Hell yeah, dude!" Reaching into the ice chest, he tossed it my way, fishing in his pocket for his pocket knife and extending it to me. I reached out and grasped the handle, slipping the blade out and puncturing the can. Shortly after, I switched the blade back into its safe position and pocketed it, the side of the can pressed to my lips as I shotgunned the alcohol.

Swallowing and tossing the can down at my feet, I grinned, head already swimming. I was an extreme lightweight so I couldn't handle more than three cans, but it felt good to let go a bit. "Hell yes, dude! Woo!"

"Nice shotgun, Car." I grinned slightly at Dylan as he spoke, licking my lips. I barely caught his gaze following my tongue as his eyes darkened slightly for a moment.

"Okay!" Clearing his throat, Dylan clapped his hands together and glanced around the group. "New idea. Party game." The reaction he received was less than approving, but he didn't let that stop him. "C'mon people, we might never see each other after tonight! Let's make some memories."

Rolling her shoulders, Kaitlyn faced him, whether genuinely curious or just tired of the silent boredom. "Well, what do you have in mind?"

"How about the ultimate game of secrets and lies...Truth or Dare, but Dylan style." With his hands raised slightly, he tossed the suggestion out there. When nobody objected, he continued. "Okay, house rules are...someone asks you truth or dare...then you choose, and then you do. And there's no ifs, ands or buts."

"So, like, normal truth or dare?" I tilted my head, confused as to where the 'Dylan style' came into play.

Dylan hesitated and then nodded, pursing his lips. "Yes."

Immediately growing excited, Kaitlyn smiled shyly. "So we can, like, make people kiss?"

"If they choose dare, yeah. As long as everyone consents, of course."

"Yeah, keep it in your pants until it's your turn, horndogs." I directed my gaze between two people in particular, huffing slightly as I was still agitated with the brunette even though it'd been an hour since then.

"Who does get to go first?"

"Well, it's house deals, so..." Dylan glanced around the group before settling his gaze on the second quietest of the group. "Abigail! Truth or dare?"

She sucked her lower lip in and glanced between Nick and Emma. "Ummm...truth."

"Really dodged a bullet, huh?" Dylan could read how agitated her pussy-footing made me, it seemed, because he was just as done with her as I was. "Alright, here goes. Have you ever slept with anyone?"

"O-Oh, I-I..."

Ryan rolled his head to face Dylan, shaking it slightly. "Hey! Take it easy man, that's too far."

"I don't think it's far enough." I muttered, rolling my eyes as he turned his glare on me.

Ryan is disappointed in my spiteful behavior.

"You, too. Quit it." I scoffed and folded my arms over my chest, glaring at the firelight.

"Come on, I'm not...finished." Dylan scrunched his nose with annoyance and altered his question slightly. "Have you ever slept with anyone...at this camp?"

"Ah, no. Nope. Sorry."

"Thank god."

"Shut up, Carter."

"'Shut up, Carter.'" I mimicked Ryan with a high pitched tone, my mounting discontent becoming more obvious to the group. Ryan furrowed his brows in response but said nothing.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Abigail seemed offended but also confused, her naivety getting the best of her. I simply smiled sarcastically, arms still folded over my chest.

"Alright, Abi, it's your turn." Abi looked away from me and opened her mouth a few times, looking like a beached whale, before Emma cut in.

"Ugh! Ding ding ding. Too late. My turn." Her gaze immediately settled on Ryan, a sickly sweet grin on her face. "Ryan, truth or dare?"

"Dare, gimme what you've got."

"Okay Ryan. Your dare comes with a choice."

"Can she do that?" I shrugged, hands now fumbling in my pockets with my inhalers and the pocket knife.

"She can do what she wants."

"Thank you!" Clearing her throat, she smiled grateful at me before facing Ryan again. "I dare you to kiss...either Kaitlyn..." Her eyes flickered between me and the brunette I'd fought with prior, my grey eyes widening in realization.

"Emma—"

"Or Dylan." I snapped my mouth shut, tilting my head down as her dare hung in the air. Attempting to make the situation light, Ryan joked lightly.

"Wow...I mean, I guess 'both' is off the table?"

"Sorry!" She raised her hands in defense, smiling impishly. "I don't make the rules."

"You literally just did, but okay! Let's do this." His gaze flickered to Dylan and he smiled. "Dylan. Let's go." Jacob started to cheer and Emma whistled, but I gritted my teeth. I already hated this goddamn night. I could hear Dylan's footsteps crunch through the sand and dirt, his lips meeting Ryan's with a soft smack for only a couple of seconds before pulling away.

"Always happy to please." I clenched my fists and stood abruptly, moving away from the duo and sitting on Emma's other side, curling my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them. Jacob and Kaitlyn both shared an expression of concern as Dylan sat back down but did nothing.

Jacob and Kaitlyn are concerned for my emotional state. Jacob feels the need to protect me.

"Alrighty. Who shall I pick?"

"Well, Jacob, Carter and I haven't gotten a turn yet."

"Leave me out of it." I snapped at Kaitlyn, voice muffled against my jeans.

"Fair point..." It only took him a second, but he quickly chose Kaitlyn, whom chose truth. "You said you and Jacob have been friends since, what, you were babies, right?"

"Boring question man. So lame." Jacob scoffed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"Have you two...ever done anything wild together?"

Kaitlyn perked up at this and bit her lip, seemingly shy. "In freshman year I convinced Jacob to let me practice French kissing on him. It never went any further than that, because, frankly he's a bad kisser. And it's like kissing my brother, ew."

"Not cool, guys. You are so mean to me." Jacob kissed his fist, flicking Kaitlyn off whom simply grinned in reply.

"Emma."

"Dare."

"Emma, you have to kiss...Jacob...or...Nick." Emma perked up slightly, her eyes lingering on Nick as she shifted in her seat beside me. I tilted my head up and glanced at Jacob, knowing he was not going to react well to what was about to occurs, my fingers digging into my knees.

"Um, uh, sorry Nick, this isn't even a dare, obviously I got this—" Jacob started, his beer sloshing around in his hand.

"Uhhhh...I don't know if that's a good idea—"

"I choose Nick." The expression in his face was nervous and Abigail gaped at her best friend with shock. The blonde stood and made her way towards the Aussie boy, everyone's eyes lingering on her.

"Em? Seriously?" Jacobs words were met with an audible gasp from Nick as Emma sank down into his lap, their lips clashing aggressively. Nicks arms embraced her back and waist, hers in his hair as they kissed. You could hear their tongues clashing and the soft hums Emma made. "Guys."

Abigail looked away, her expression crestfallen, and even though I loathed her, I couldn't help the momentary empathy I felt for her. She knows what it's like now. I thought, bitterly.

"GUYS!" The two parted as Jacob raised his voice, his nostrils flaring. Nick's face was cherry red, a sly satisfied grin on Emma's lips. She moved back to her seat as Nick lowered his head shamefully, thanking him.

"He's good." She murmured to Abigail, whom immediately stood and began to walk away. Jacob stood upright and stomped towards Nick, towering over him.

"You like kissing my girlfriend, asshole?" Jacob's voice was low, deeper than normal, fueled with anger as he clenched his fists.

"It was just a game—"

"Hey! I am nobody's girlfriend." Emma cut Nick off, only adding more fuel to the fire.

Jacob silenced her with a glare, raising a hand in her direction as he growled out to Nick. "The fuck it was. 'Oh, it was just a game!' The FUCK it was, man!" He stepped back, heading out into the trees towards the boathouse as Emma called after him.

"Jacob, grow up!" It was silent, the air tense and awkward as everyone let what happened settle in their minds. "I guess I better go after him. You should go after Abi." Nick and Emma stood, heading after their respective 'partners', while the four of us remained.

"So...anyone wanna play 'Parchisi'?" We deadpanned at Kaitlyn and she raise she hands in defense. "What?"

I could stay and try to ease the night back out with these three, play a game or two. It'd give me a chance to relax and avoid the tension between the two pairs. I could also go after Nick and Abi. After all, despite not getting a long I knew better than anyone how it felt to watch someone you loved be kissed or flirted with by someone else. Or, I could go with Emma and Jacob, attempt to help them reconcile or at least calm down. It was a stupid play on Emma's part and Jacob didn't deserve to hurt, so maybe I could be his support buddy this time.

What would you do?

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Laura Kearney is my best friend and is currently missing.

Max Brinly is my best friend and is currently missing.

Ryan Erzahler is surprised by my unintentional coming-out.

Jacob Custos is concerned for my well-being and incredibly protective of me, despite his anger towards Emma.

Abigail Blyg is distasteful of me.

Dylan Lenivy finds me adorable, but is uncomfortable around me now.

Emma Mountebank greatly enjoys my company.

Kaitlyn Ka is worried for my emotional stability.

Nicholas Furcillo is protective of me but currently concerned for Abigail.

Travis Hackett has no relation to me.

Chris Hackett is in an undisclosed location.

I am alive, somewhat distraught and burned but otherwise healthy.

Tarot Visions:

Temperance

Strength

Justice

Branches:

•Skeptic BFF: Having been best friends with Max and Laura, I knew they weren't okay. With their absence, I grew skeptical of Chris Hackett and his promises.

•••

Because I stayed with Ryan and Dylan in the lodge, I discovered clues as to my friends disappearances.

•Honest Seer: Deciding to share my clairvoyance with the group, they appreciate my concern and will be more cautious.

#my stuff #fluff #fanfic #bxb #mxm #horror #psychological horror #violence #gore #romance #drama #the quarry #mature #apocalypticnova #The Quarry fanfic

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dreamqueenkala · 10 months

Text

WHERE SUMMER ENDS, THE HUNT BEGINS

Previous Chapter

Laura Kearney is my best friend and is currently missing.

Max Brinly is my best friend and is currently missing.

Ryan Erzahler is friendly towards me.

Jacob Custos is easily flustered around me.

Abigail Blyg is distasteful of me.

Dylan Lenivy finds me adorable.

Emma Mountebank greatly enjoys my company.

Kaitlyn Ka is entertained by me.

Nicholas Furcillo is protective of me.

Travis Hackett has no relation to me.

Chris Hackett finds me reliable.

I am alive, sane and unharmed.

I have yet to have a clairvoyant vision.

No paths have branched.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Tape loading...

Load complete.

Viewing Tape #7

Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp Entrance

17:07 August 22–Carter Rhodes

Emma stood in the middle of the dirt road, waving off the bus at it retreated down the trail back towards the interstate. "Bye!" She called, lifting on her toes for a moment with a smile.

Nick, standing on the balcony beside Dylan, smiled slightly with a soft tone to his voice. "Laters!"

Dylan grinned that familiar dopey grin of his, sending the kids off with a salute. "Peace and love!"

Snickering softly, I tossed a peace sign up in the air, wolf whistling playfully. "Adios, little dudes!"

Kaitlyn, perched on the steps with Jacob, folded her arms over her chest. "See ya later, kids!"

"Yeah! Hackett's Quarry forever!" Jacob cheered, arm draped over the shorter girls shoulders. I shook my head, standing beside Emma as she blew a few air kisses after the bus, one final wave on her mind. The blonde, despite being taller than me, had quickly become one of my best friends here at the quarry. She was incredibly outgoing which more than made up for my typically shy nature, and I found myself confiding in her more often than I did the camp owner.

After spending two months here, taking care of much younger kiddos surrounded by nature and rambunctious teens fresh out of high school, I'd grown to miss my home slightly less. It was far more peaceful here than back home, at least, it was for me. I didn't have the best family life, living with a single mother that couldn't stand half of the stuff I was into—supposedly because I was either too much like my dead father or not enough like him. Coming here was my safe haven, rescuing me from a summer that would've been shrouded in storm clouds—ironic because I love thunderstorms.

It would've been better if my two best friends had actually made it, though. We'd planned to work here together this summer, but Max and Laura decided it would be best to head in a day early. I'd told them I'd had a bad feeling about the idea, what with my strong sixth sense and all, but Laura was quick to shoot down my concerns. She claimed it was my social anxiety, and Max and I had no other reason not to believe her. I showed up the day after and unfortunately discovered they hadn't arrived.

According to Chris Hackett, the camp owner, they'd called in and claimed they weren't going to make it. My gut feeling didn't agree with the excuse he gave us, but I didn't pry. It wasn't my place to. Despite the lack of Max and Laura's presence beside me this past summer, I still enjoyed my time here. I was honestly a bit down to be leaving this place.

Branch Selected

Skeptic BFF: Having been best friends with Max and Laura, I knew they weren't okay. With their absence, I grew skeptical of Chris Hackett and his promises.

"Dude, this summer was frickin' epic." I hummed thoughtfully, hands buried in my ripped jean pockets. Emma slung an arm over my shoulder, leaning into my side with a small chuckle, her cocoa eyes wrinkled slightly with her pearly smile.

"Um, duh, because you spent it with me!" I snorted, ruffling my short blonde curls gently as I let my eyes rest for a moment. Deciding to stay kind rather than flirty or cynical, I smiled at her from the corner of my eye.

"Hey, you're pretty damn quick-witted and smart, Emma. Makes being around snot-nosed little brats a helluva lot more tolerable when you're keeping me entertained." I replied, feeling her rest her chin on my shoulder.

Emma is flattered by my response.

"Hm, yeah, I am pretty awesome." Rolling my eyes, I nudged her side gently, coaxing her towards the minivan. "Right, well, why don't you go see if you can find Ryan or something? I'm going to go toy with Jacob before I look for Abi."

"You're tearing his poor heart strings, drama queen." I cooed playfully, grinning as she walked away.

"Yeah yeah. It's just a summer fling." She shrugged, skipping her way towards Jacob and Kaitlyn. Turning on my heel, I proceeded towards the cellar, pleasantly satisfied to find a familiar face leaning against a post with his earbuds in. His eyes were closed as he bobbed his head slightly every so often, most likely listening to his podcast. I made my way to his side and nudged his shoe, causing the guy to tilt his head up to look at me.

I smiled down at him as he removed one earbud, returning the gesture. "Hey, Ryan. Mind if I sit down?" He shook his head and I took my place beside him, legs curled to my chest and head resting on my knees. "So? The podcast?"

His dark eyes lit up almost immediately, lips pulling tight in a genuine, relaxed smile. "Yeah. New episode came out today." I grinned lightly, always warmed when I saw his or the others eyes light up about something they were into. I don't know why, but I'd always found myself with a knack for making others smile.

"That's cool. Been a week, right?" He nodded, and I found myself easily slipping into conversation with him about it. It wasn't hard, actually. I'd always been a pretty charismatic person, finding it incredibly natural for me to come up with things to talk about. To be honest, if I really wanted to I could manipulate people, make them feel or think a certain way. But I wouldn't do that. I wasn't that type of person.

"Yeah. It's a bit of a long one, though, so hopefully it's a really good story." I nodded, closing my eyes. I suppose he took that to mean he could continue listening because after a moment of shuffling, I could barely make out muffled audio from his earbuds. I kept my head buried in my knees for awhile, enjoying the peace and quiet, 'til heavy footsteps made their way over.

Peeking up, I waved at Jacob, whom waved at both myself and Ryan. Ryan, of course, noticed and waved in reply, but didn't do much else. Jacobs eyes flitted between the two of us awkwardly as he shifted his weight before he turned on his heel. I glanced at Ryan and shrugged my shoulders, standing up and dusting my pants off.

Urging myself to follow after Jacob, I trekked up the lodge steps to the front door just as it slammed shut in Jacob's face. "C'mon man!" Jacob huffed, the sound of soft chuckling muffled by the closed wood. Now realizing his predicament, I debated assisting him for a moment. I tapped his shoulder, startling the teddy bear of a guy as he spun on his heel.

"Try the window around the side. Library window is always unlocked." He grinned, ruffling my hair with his large hand, cheeks the slightest tint of pink.

"Thank you, little dude!" I pouted at the nickname he'd never dropped, puffing out my cheeks as he made his way around the side.

"I'm, like, a foot shorter than you, Jacob!"

Jacob is amused by my response.

With a huff, I face the door again, knocking gently. It swung open in seconds, the same dopey grin I'd come to adore greeting me, doe eyes searching my face with glee. "Well, hey there, tiger stripes! Looking to join the cool kids?" I snorted slightly at Dylan's word choice, unable to resist the grin tugging at my lips.

"Oh yeah. Heard the coolest of the cool were here." I decided to play along, hands once again buried in my pockets. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find them, would ya, kind sir?"

Dylan hummed thoughtfully, placing a hand on his chin dramatically. "Hmm, I dunno. Where could those two super cool dudes be?"

Taking the sight of his much taller frame in, I decided to take a leap of faith. "I've also heard they're the most attractive, if that helps?" His cheeks flushed and his brown eyes flicked back to my grey ones, his smile softer.

Dylan is flustered but pleasantly surprised by my flirtatious reply.

"U-Uh, yeah! Yeah, they're right here, come in, come in!" He stepped to the side, finally allowing me entry. As the door clicked shut behind me, I spotted Nick sitting by the stairs and waved. He smiled back slightly, curling his fingers in a lazy wave just as Jacob entered his line of view. Turning to face Dylan, I found he was already staring at me, my eyes widening for a second at the realization.

"Dyl? Is there something on my face...?" He blinked and flushed again, shaking his head. One of his pale hands scratched the back of his neck whilst the other slipped into his back pocket, chocolate doe eyes flickering away from me awkwardly.

"N-No, sorry. Just got...lost in thought."

"Right..."

"I-I'm gonna go get our phones, so...." Dylan quickly jogged towards Chris' office to gather our phones, disappearing from my sight.

Blinking away the awkward moment, I turned and moved further into the lodge, eying the walls and tables for any random items lying about. It seemed Dylan and Nick did a great job cleaning, though, because I couldn't even find dust under the tables. With a satisfied smile, I perched myself on one of the many benches, fiddling with my long black sleeves as I waited for Dylan to return, suddenly feeling a bit isolated and shy.

Granted, that was my own doing coming in here while the others were busy, but it still agitated me slightly all the same. Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed the small rectangular paper piece stuck between the floorboards below me. Furrowing my brows in curiosity, I leaned down and plucked the object up, gazing over it with narrowed grey eyes and parted lips.

It was a tarot card, specifically the Temperance card. What appeared to be an Angel in white with red wings rested on its center, a chalice and wine in her hands. It was old, the corners slightly tattered, and appeared to have been lit aflame recently as it's edges were still a faint orange glow.

My head began to hurt and I winced, placing my free palm against my forehead. My vision swam and my ears pulsed with a sound like rapid water, pressure building in my temples. I groaned, head swaying before I abruptly blacked out.

I gasped as I came to, forcing myself to open my eyes as my hands shook. I'd somehow fallen from the bench, and just now realized that Nick was leaning over me, his hand hovering over my side. His dark eyes were full of concern, searching my pale face for any signs of discomfort or pain.

"Hey? You okay, Carter?" I blinked a few times and nodded, swallowing thickly as he helped me sit upright, his palm warm and firm on my lower back. I grunted and rubbed my temples, the buzzing of the vision I'd seen leaving my mind scrambled. Glancing down at my left hand, brows furrowing again as nothing but a trace of ash left in my palm. "Carter?"

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just a dizzy spell." Though he seemed reluctant to accept my response, Nick nodded, gently helping me to stand. I grunted and popped my neck, wiping the ash inconspicuously against my white-washed jeans. My skin was paler than normal and coated in a thin sheen of sweat, my pupils dilated.

Nick is concerned for my health.

Nick, noticing how pale I seemed, opened his mouth to speak, his hand gripping my arm slightly to steady me. Before he could, a familiar head of soft brown locks popped into view.

"Yo! Got the phones!" Dylan greeted, grinning as he waved the case with our phones around. I shot the boy a grateful smile, avoiding Nick's gaze as Dylan gently handed me my phone, the familiar black and blue glittery case comfortable in my hands.

"Thanks DJ." I smiled slightly and pressed the power button, watching the apple logo come to life on my screen.

"No prob, Tiger."

"Thanks man."

Unlocking my phone, I huffed, pouting my lip. "Dammit, no bars. 73% though."

Nick messed his for a moment before nodding along. "No bars, 42%."

"Ah, shit, I'm at 6%."

"Should've turned your phone off, dude."

Dylan scoffed at my words, reaching over to ruffle my blonde locks as he stuffed his phone in his pocket. "Zip it, pipsqueak."

"I'm not that short, dammit!"

Nick and Dylan laughed as I whined and complained, fixing my hair as we made our way outside onto the balcony porch. Dylan leaned against the rail on my right, Nick on my left, and I hoisted myself onto the banister, legs over the edge and my arm resting on Dylan's shoulder. Jacob and Kaitlyn stood below us around the minivan, the former having just recently tossed the last bags inside the crammed trunk.

Dylan, having tossed the box, now held an array of phones—most likely belonging to the others—in his pockets. Nick, however, held a familiar black rectangle in his own hands, a mischievous grin growing on his tanned face. He shared a subtle glance with me, reassuring my disapproving look with a shrug as Dylan spoke to the duo.

"Hey Jacob!"

The tall athlete turned to face us, the relaxed expression on his face quickly falling as his gaze caught sight of the object in Nick's grasp. "Dude, no! N-No, c'mon, please! Don't!"

With a chuckle, the lithe Aussie tossed the object into the air, crying, "Go long!" Jacob scrambled to catch it, fumbling it slightly before his fingers managed to find purchase around the slim frame of his phone. He cheered, holding it up with glee before breaking into a very sexual and lewdly inappropriate dance.

"Boo yah! There it is!"

I groaned and scrambled down from the banister, Dylan's palm quickly covering my eyes which elicited a soft giggle from me. Dylan guided me down the stairs as we joined the duo, his hand still covering my sight.

"Good save, man!" Nick's voice cheered, and Jacob's erotic grunting got louder.

"Oh my god, this sounds so much worse when I can't see." Dylan snorted behind me, removing his palm as Jacob finally settled his behavior.

"Ooh, I wish I had some singles." Dylan yelped as my hand met his shoulder harshly, a blush and a glare on my face.

"Freaks. I'm surrounded by freaks." Kaitlyn exclaimed, completely disgusted by Jacob's behavior.

"No, you're just friends with a bunch of horndogs." Kaitlyn scoffed at my reply, but her unamused expression quickly altered to one of delight as Dylan passed her phone over.

"Oh thank God. I get the whole 'no technology' thing, but take me back world!" Her expression fell as she checked her notifications to find nothing, a groan of distaste leaving her lips. "Oh come on! Not one cell tower!?"

As the two conversed I felt something under my shoe and peeked down. Moving my left foot to the side, I found another card buried in the dirt. Picking it up, I gazed over the tattered surface, examining the image framed across the Strength card. A boy in a hood was hobbled over a wolf, his hands drawing its jaws apart.

The buzzing returned and I faltered, staggering slightly. My vision blurred and my ears popped, my head swaying again. The sound was louder than before, louder than buzzing but quieter than a ringing. It made my ears hurt and I covered them, clenching my teeth.

"Woah, woah! Easy there, Tiger." I yelped, stumbling as Dylan steadied me, his hands on my shoulders to hold me upright as my knees buckled. His eyes and Kaitlyn's searched mine carefully, both sharing a worried glance. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah, dehydrated, maybe. I'll be fine."

Dylan and Kaitlyn were weary but accepting of my reply.

Jacob's voice drew my attention, along with Kaitlyn and Dylan, whom turned to face him in unison. "Man, you would've thought Mr. H could've charged our phones just a little bit."

"Nothing's ever your fault, is it?" Kaitlyn raised a brow, crossing her arms over her chest.

Dylan, deciding to be his usually quippy self, smirked playfully as he spoke. "You know, you should probably just save it for emergencies only. Unless, of course, is being dumped an emergency?"

I winced at the mention, the memory of that encounter still fresh in mind. Emma and Jacob had been in some form of a friends-with-benefits relationship this past summer. I'd caught them going at it on multiple occasions in the bathhouse, and that's probably why Jacob was always so flustered around me. Though, last night Emma broke it off with him, claiming it was just a summer fling and the long distance wouldn't work. I'd come with her to dump him on account of her complaining how 'she needed moral support', but I rather ended up comforting the big teddy bear afterwards.

I'd honestly felt pretty terrible just witnessing the breakup. Especially since, in my blatant opinion, Jacob was one of the sweetest guys I'd ever met. Personally, I'd have taken the chance and tried Long distance just for him. He deserved that kind of happiness.

Nick chuckled, a taunting grin on his lips, one hand set on his hip. "Burn!"

Though his expression fell momentarily at the mention of Emma, he was just as quick to snap back as usual. "Ah, well, at least I had a relationship this summer."

"Damn, now we burned!"

"Shut up, Nick." I snickered, shaking my head. Dylan glanced at me and flushed slightly, bottom lip extended in a partial pout.

"Yeah, well, maybe not everyone is looking for a hookup, okay? So—"

"Okay, okay! Can you guys put your little dicks away and let's get this show on the road, huh?" Kaitlyn intervened quickly, her sensible and reliable self able to just about smell the testosterone boiling between the two tallest people in our group.

Under my breathe, I mumbled. "I know at least one of their dicks ain't little." Nick, having heard me, whipped his head in my direction with wide eyes and I flushed, waving him off shyly. His expression spoke louder words than I did—'We're discussing this later' he mouthed.

"Where's everybody else?" Nick inquired, changing the subject quickly as he surveyed the lodge interest curiously. His gaze settled on Jacob as he spoke, quirking a brow.

"Wha-Why would I know that?" The tall ravenette inquired.

Nick shrugged, hands in his pockets. "I dunno. Sometimes you know stuff I don't."

Jacob blinked incredulously. "I-I...I don't even know how to respond to that."

Nick's quick wit stayed just as strong as both Jacob's and Dylan's. "You say, 'Nick you're way smarter than me and you're a super hot guy who gets all the chicks he wants.'"

"You may be the most attractive in Emma's cabin, but mine would not have agreed with that statement." I quipped, tossing a playful grin his way. The Aussie stuck his tongue out at me in reply, though he no longer had a comeback in mind.

"Keep dreaming, Junior." Jacob huffed, his tone slightly aggressive. I gave him a shy but awkward smile, but for once, he failed to return it, instead redirecting his gaze to his feet. My heart dropped, turning my head to face the area under the lodge.

"Aaaaanyway..." Kaitlyn once again directed our attention elsewhere after a long silence.

"Do we just, like...wait? Or...?" Dylan spoke, tilting his head.

"Yeah."

"Boringggg." I rolled my eyes at the quirky brunettes complaint, stepping closer to him and leaning my head against his left bicep—goddamn, the guy didn't look it but he was toned.

"Yeah, I need to charge my phone. You think Mr. H would let me pop in and give it some juice before we leave?"

Kaitlyn gave him a baffled look, shifting her weight on her feet. "Why didn't you charge it before we got to camp?"

"I dunno. I figured we'd still have them at camp."

"Why would you assume that at a summer camp?"

"Nobody said they would take them!"

"Even I figured that one out, dude." Jacob added, shrugging his shoulders. The two broke into a small argument and I sighed, moving away from Dylan. Making my way to the trunk of the minivan, I dug through my bag—which was thankfully on top of the discombobulated pile—and retrieved my inhaler, along with its backup. Pocketing them, I made my way to Jacob's side as Emma and Abigail came into view.

"Heyyyyy!" Emma called, sidling up to the group with a dejected-looking Abigail behind her.

"Where are your bags?" Nick asked, just as confused as the rest of us over their unsuccessful mission.

"Mr. H locked them in the cabin already."

Jacob scoffed, eying the blonde with the smallest hint of adoration in his eyes. "Why? To keep out bears?"

"...Apparently." She sighed, shaking her head.

Dylan leaned forward a bit, shifting his weight with a curious glint to his eyes. "Well, why didn't you just...break in?"

Abigail scoffed, gesturing between him and Emma as she spoke. "Okay, because Dylan thinks that would've been a good idea, that confirms we did the right thing." Emma waved her off, obviously displeased with the girl.

"Oof, ow. I like my ideas." Dylan took it in stride despite how underhanded the comment was, shrugging slightly. I hummed and pursed my lips, glaring sickeningly sweet towards the artist.

"Sorry not everyone's a picture perfect goody-two-shoes like you, Blyg." I cooed, grinning sarcastically. Abigail grit her teeth and wrinkled her nose but otherwise said nothing.

Abigail was irritated by my smart remark.

It wasn't really a secret that Abigail and I never got along. We just didn't click like the others did. On top of that, she's quite naive and too obtuse during conversation, often saying things without thinking about them first. She took the 'n' of out of fun, leaving 'f u'.

"Hey, has anyone seen Ryan?" Emma inquired, gazing about the group as she realized one of us was still missing.

"Oh yeah, he's probably off being all broody and mysterious and alluring somewhere." Dylan quipped, the faintest pink tint on his cheeks.

"Your dick runs your mouth a lot, doesn't it?" I teased, the brunette flicking me off as his cheeks darkened.

"I'm here." My grey eyes fell on the dark-skinned counselor I'd spent half my summer with when Emma wasn't around, his earbuds now dangling over the collar of his shirt.

"What're you doing under there? A little 'me' party?"

"Uh...I was listening to a podcast, actually." Ryan answers Kaitlyn's question, somewhat reluctant to express his interest with the group. I smiled reassuringly at him, watching his shoulders relax as he caught my gaze.

"Oh, podcast, that...that's cool." Dylan hummed. He wasn't even interested in the topic, his eyes gazing over Ryan's face almost love struck.

"What's it about?"

"Yeah, what's it about? Is it about me?"

Ryan flicked his eyes over to Dylan, brows furrowed as he missed the flirtatious remark. "You...think I was listening to a podcast...about you?"

"Okay, if anyone had a podcast about themselves, it'd be me." Raising her hand slightly, Kaitlyn nonchalantly expressed her affirmation of her awesome personality, earning a chuckle out of me.

"Yeah, if there was a podcast called 'How to look and smell like a butt'."

"Dylan, you're hormones are showing." He stuck his tongue out in my direction, the girls snickering lightly.

"Shut up, Carter." He groaned.

"No, it's—it's a paranormal podcast." Ryan continued, slowly drawing closer to the group, though still outside the circle we'd formed.

"The one about Hackett's Quarry?" I inquired, earning a look of surprise from Nick and Jacob.

"You listen to it, too?" The former asked.

"Nah. I love listening to Ryan talk about it though. He's a really good story teller." The guy in question smiled at my compliment, slightly flustered.

Ryan was grateful for my display of interest in his hobby.

"It's, uh, called 'The Hag of Hackett's Quarry'."

Perking up at the mere sound of it, a slight buzzing formed in my ears, something like a whisper sending a shiver up my spine. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"You've probably heard it before."

"I'm sorry. The what of whosit what now?" Kaitlyn seemed thoroughly confused, lips parted and brows raised.

"You don't know about 'The Hag of Hackett's Quarry'?" Dylan all but gasped, an expression of dramatic shock on his face.

"Would I be asking if I did, dumbass?"

"Tell her about 'The Hag of Hackett's Quarry'."

Catching on to the playfulness Dylan had acquired, the corner of Ryan's lips lifted. "I don't think she wants to know about the Hag of Hackett's Quarry."

"Can we please just stop saying 'The Hag of Hackett's Quarry'?" Kaitlyn snapped, quickly losing her patience with the two. Dylan's mouth snapped shut and Ryan began to explain.

"It's just this campfire story for the kids. It's um... There's supposedly an old woman who died in a fire a few years back. She haunts the woods looking for her lost baby boy." He started, eyes darting between each counselor to gauge their reaction. "There are like reports of whispers, or whatever, and this figure that floats around... You know, textbook ghost stuff. Some people say that if she catches you alone, she'll try to turn you into her son... or kill you or something, I dunno... It's never really been clear. Anyways. 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry'." It was silent for maybe a moment as everyone let his ghost story sink in.

"Y-You made that up." Kaitlyn looked miffed at her stutter, eying Ryan skeptically.

"It's right here in the podcast, man."

Jacob shot the guy a smile, nodding his head along. "Cool story, bro."

"Yeah, Ryan, that's actually pretty sick, man. You amaze me with those stories, dude." I chipped in, earning a delighted smile in reply.

Ryan was reassured and happy with my response.

"You guys should've seen the kids though. Scared them shitless, I swear." I snickered, sharing a grin with Dylan.

"They weren't that bad..." Ryan mumbled halfheartedly.

"Gotta be careful with that stuff, man. That shits true." Dylan's comment seemed to cause Kaitlyn and Jacob some momentary discomfort, as the former shifted her weight and the other snapped frantically.

"C'mon—dude, bullshit!"

"What's the hold up, Hacketteers?" I yelped at the voice overhead, turning my head to face our coffee-loving, shorts-wearing boss, Chris Hackett.

"Heya—ah, we, uh—w-we're almost done, Mr. H!" Jacob stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, hop to it, kiddos! You're wasting daylight."

Emma stepped forward with a scoff, hand on her hip. "Coulda-woulda if our bags weren't locked up."

Narrowing his eyes on her with distaste, he tilted his head. "What's that? Sounded like you said 'of course Mr. H, we're on it, Mr. H!'"

Abigail, sensing our boss's waning patience, stepped in. "Sorry, Mr. Hackett, but our...our bags—"

"Right. Cabin. Huh."

"We're really bustin' our butts here. Well, except Ryan who's trying to scare the pants off our butts with his weird ghost stories." Kaitlyn added, eying the teen as an after thought.

"Okay, okay, enough with all the butts..." An expression of minor disgust crossed the man's wrinkled brow as he waved his hand. "Eh—and what...what's this about ghost stories?"

"The 'H' of 'H's' 'Q'."

Ryan cleared his throat, head bowed slightly. "'The Hag of Hackett's Quarry.' I was just—"

"Oh for Pete's sake, Ryan." Chris scoffed, disappointment heavy in his tone.

"Hey, dude, lay off. He likes his ghost stories, some sissy kids gotta learn to grow up eventually." I snapped, glaring up at the man hovering on the porch. Ryan glanced at me with temporary relief, whilst Mr. Hackett narrowed his eyes down on me with a grunt.

"Hey, uh—" Kaitlyn stepped in again, sensing the growing tension once more. "You still got the van key, Mr. H?"

I rolled my eyes and turned to face the van, leaning against a tree near its hood as I closed my eyes. The buzzing hadn't gone away, and closing my eyes made my head swim. My left hand came up to rub at my temples, a sharp exhale escaping my nose as I rolled my shoulders. I'd been feeling off for the past week—lightheaded, exhausted, weak—but ever since I'd picked up that first tarot card my discomfort had multiplied tenfold.

I'd always been sensitive to the unnatural or spiritual. My dad used to tell me I was gifted with the sight, more commonly known as being a medium or clairvoyant. I had a knack for sensing danger and sometimes seeing things in my dreams that had yet to occur—the same thing that elicited moments of Deja Vu later on. It usually was pretty relaxed, occurring fairy rarely and otherwise leaving my life as normal as it could get. However, since arriving here my clairvoyance had been going off the rails—whether it be that sixth sense kicking in when a tree was going to fall or a kid was going to get themselves hurt half way across camp, or it was a dream three nights early warning me of a bear in the woods or a coyote sneaking into one of the cabins. I hadn't had a full nights sleep since early July.

Grumbling slightly, I straightened up as Mr. H made his way to the minivan with Ryan and Jacob in tow, surprised I'd been out of it for so long. The man tossed the keys to Jacob, an anxious smile spreading across his face.

Dylan, most likely replying to whatever Chris had just said, huffed out desperately. "I try not to dwell on the past, man."

"Good, cause it's time to dwell on the minivan and get on with our respective lives! Move it, let's go!" Chris urged, waving Jacob into the car.

Baffled by Chris' urgency in trying to make us leave, Emma stepped forward. "Hey, what about our bags?!"

"Oh, Emma. I'm gonna have to ship 'em to you tomorrow first thin—" His indifference to her question irritated the blonde, a scowl on her face.

"Hell no! No. I am not leaving without my—"

"Hey! It's the way it's gotta be." Chris snapped, efficiently convincing Emma to shut her mouth.

"Ugh."

"Come on, Jacob! Start 'er up!"

Jacob turned the key in the ignition, though the only response the minivan gave was a sharp squeal and loud sputtering. Confused, I furrowed my brows, leaning closer to the hood to try and make out where the sound was coming from.

"What's the problem?" Chris' voice had grown more urgent, impatiently moving near the hood, as well.

"Ugh... Dude. I don't know. I-I think there's something wrong with the engine, Mr. H." Jacob hummed. His voice took on a lilt that screamed guilty to me, though Chris seemed too anxious to notice.

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Yeah dude, it's just like... kaput!"

"Alright lemme try." Ryan stepped towards the drivers side, peering at Jacob through the open window.

"What? Dude, I'm telling you, alright, it's busted!"

"Well maybe you're doing it wrong—"

"Duh- 'Well maybe you're doing it wrong!'" Jacob's tone baffled me, my eyes shooting up to glare at him through the front windshield.

"The fuck, dude?"

"Enough! Enough, both of you! Shit." He stepped up to the car, opening the drivers door and tugging at Jacob's sleeve. "Come on, come on let's go."

Stumbling, Jacob stepped out of the vehicle, brushing himself off. "Alright dude, chill! Chill dude." As Chris attempted to start the car, smoke began to seep from the lip of the hood, startling me.

"Uh, Mr. H? Pretty sure it's not supposed to do that..." His eyes widened at my words and he jumped out of the car, dragging me away from the tree I was leaning against.

"Holy smokes! Everybody back, now! No, now, now!" He exclaimed, urging the rest of the group backwards. Jacob, however, disregarded Mr. Hackett's warning and moved to the front of the vehicle, popping it open to view the engine. A blaze had formed near the fuel tank, our eyes widening at the sight.

"Jesus Christ!" Jacob exclaimed, skirting the edge of the car.

"J-Jacob, c'mon, get away from it!" I exclaimed, my heart racing in my chest. I hated fire, loathed it, memories I didn't want to recall lingering at the forefront of my brain.

"I-I got this!" He reached into the drivers side, grasping at water bottle. He ran back to the front of the vehicle and I yelped, darting past both Ryan and Chris.

"Jacob, don't—!" The water splashed over the engine just as I curled my fingers around Jacob's wrist. The flames rose and my back and arm, which were facing the hood, were splashed with oil. A scream left me as my skin burned through the fabric, recoiling closer to Jacob and cradling my burnt arm to my chest. "Fuck!"

"Shit, shit! Are you okay? Fuck!" Jacob cradled my arm in his large hands, blowing cool air on the red skin peeking through the freshly singed hole in my sleeve and shoulder, electing a whimper from me. Chris appeared beside us with a fire bucket in hand, dumping the sand in it over the engine and successfully smothering the flames.

With a heavy sigh, he dropped the bucket to the ground, brows furrowed with distress. "This things toast."

"Well, uh- Look it's not that big of a deal, okay, we'll just spend one more night out here." Jacob quipped after a moment, patting my back lightly as I babied my injured arm with a hiss, resting my head against his shoulder.

"No—NO. Just stop. Let me think." Chris snapped, hands running I've this face as he paced for a moment. Chris slammed the hood with an angry yell, startling me and Jacob. "Arrrrghhh! Okay. Dammit. You're right. You're right, yeah. Yeah, you're right."

"What?" Ryan seemed utterly bewildered with Chris' behavior, brows furrowed as he glanced at us. Chris tossed him the keys to the lodge as he walked past, Ryan successfully grasping them midair.

"Hey Ryan. Come here for a sec." Chris waved the boy over as he clambered into his own car, rolling the window down. Jacob guided me away from the cars towards the others, hand on my back.

"Shit, dude, I'm really fucking sorry, I didn't—"

"It's fine. You didn't know. It's cool. It's cool." I huffed, cutting off his apology. I knew he didn't mean to get me hurt, and it was only a second degree burn. With proper treatment I'd be okay. I was more concerned for Jacob's current emotional status—the guy didn't handle pain and sorrow very well.

I smiled up at Jacob to reassure him when words didn't work, nudging his side with my good arm. "Really, bear, I mean it. I'll be okay." He glanced between both of my grey eyes for a moment before relaxing, his lips forming the tiniest smile.

"Okay."

Jacob is reassured by my kindness and empathy.

"So, what was all of that about?" Dylan's voice drew my attention behind me as Ryan rejoined us, Chris and his car out of sight.

"He uh... said to stay inside. That we're not leaving until the morning." Ryan answered in a slow, uncertain tone, eyes lingering on my burn.

"Are... you kidding me?" Emma scoffed, tossing her hands up with irritation.

"Em..."

"Are you kidding me!? What are we supposed to do?"

"Well, we should go inside. Like he said."

Dylan tilted his head side to side, an inquisitive expression crossing his soft features. "We could go inside. Until morning..."

"Yeah—"

Quickly cutting Ryan off, Dylan smiled mischievously. "Or... Or we could do something else."

"What... are you talking about?"

"No Mr. Hackett. No screaming kids. Just a bunch of grown-ass adults ready to cut loose and get down with their animal side." I deadpanned at this, blinking slowly as I attempted to register what the hell he was going on about. Jacob, however, seemed to both understand and become eager for the idea.

"Ohh, hell yeah."

"P. A. R. T... Why the fuck not!? Alright, it seems like the stars have aligned for us. No?" I sighed through my nose, gnawing at my lower lip anxiously, which did not go unnoticed.

"Okay, okay, okay..." Kaitlyn began to nod thoughtfully, contemplating the tall brunettes offer.

"One last epic bonfire blowout for all time."

"Oh, dude. Fuck yes!" Jacob pumped the air, gesturing to the only Aussie in the group. "I'm in. Nick, you're in."

"Yeah I'm in."

"Dylan's in. Obviously. My man. Kaitlyn?"

After some momentary hesitation and a quick glance around the group, the short Asian woman conceded. "I go where my people need me."

"Yeah! Okay... Em, what do you say?"

"Yeah, I'm in." She grinned, hands on her hips.

"Mr. Hackett seemed pretty insistent we stay in the lodge." Abigail suddenly cut in, dampening my mood further with her voice.

"He was just trying to freak us out. You know, like um... Like one of Ryan's stupid ghost stories."

"Why would he want to scare us?"

Probably because he doesn't fucking like you, Abigail. I hissed in my head, scowling at her from under my long black lashes.

Ryan, looking miffed and uncertain, sighed through his nose apprehensively. "I don't think he was trying to freak us out, Jacob. I think he was really freaked out by something."

"Jesus Christ."

"Chris seemed real serious about this, guys."

Dylan slumped slightly, off put by Ryan's mood dampening behavior. "Just say you're in, man. Come on. One last night. Dude. He won't even know."

"Yeah but I promised, I—"

I had to grab Jacob's arm to stop him from stepping forward with his irritation, encouraging him to just speak calmly. "No no nah, dude, dude. It's all good. Alright, we get it, you know. You, uh... You don't wanna disappoint 'daddy'."

Ryan's eyes narrowed on Jacob and his nose wrinkled at the underhanded remark. "Whatever, man."

Dylan stepped in quickly, attempting to keep the conversation calm. "It's gonna be fine, man. Trust me. It's gonna be chill."

"I'm sure he's just looking out for us. No big deal." Ryan muttered this, mostly to reassure himself.

"Alright. Yeah! Party!" Dylan cheered, grins spreading on the rest of their faces.

"No, I didn't mean—"

Dylan put his hand up for a high five, grinning at the deep-toned male with excitement. "High five—Touch my hand, Ryan."

Ryan hesitated, eying the brunette before glancing at me. I nodded hesitantly, worry still on my mind. With a sigh, he lifted his hand and pressed it against Dylan's. "Alright, fine..."

"But I just want to go on record and say that this is a bad idea."

Jacob deadpanned and shook his head. "Oh my God, dude."

"Ugh. It's gonna be fine, man. Trust me. It's gonna be chill." Dylan did his best to reassure the guy he'd been pinning after half the summer.

Excited once again for tonight's plan, Jacob rubbed his hands together. "Alright, alright, alright, Hacketteers! Party planning committee. Let's do this!"

He gestured to Nick and Abigail, tilting his head side to side. "Um, okay. First things first, Nick and Abi... you go get some firewood. Uh... Emma and I will go to the store for some supplies. And, uh, Dylan, you just... I don't know, figure out how to charge the phones or something..." Dylan and Nick shared a thumbs up with the jock before he clapped his hands. "Alright let's do this!"

Hesitating, I glanced among the group and hit my lip, the buzzing behind my ears urging me to speak up. I could tell them what I'd 'seen' so far—knowing they were likely to listen to it as my clairvoyance was well known—but risk dampening the mood. Or I could keep it to myself and hope that everything would be okay. Besides that, who would I join? Abi and Nick? Dylan, Ryan and Kaitlyn? Emma and Jacob? Or should I find something to do alone?

Wha t would you do?

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Laura Kearney is my best friend and is currently missing.

Max Brinly is my best friend and is currently missing.

Ryan Erzahler is appreciative towards me.

Jacob Custos is concerned for my health and attached to me.

Abigail Blyg is distasteful of me.

Dylan Lenivy finds me adorable.

Emma Mountebank greatly enjoys my company.

Kaitlyn Ka is entertained by me.

Nicholas Furcillo is protective of me and concerned for my mental health.

Travis Hackett has no relation to me.

Chris Hackett finds me reliable but aggressive.

I am alive, sane and burned but otherwise healthy.

Tarot Visions:

Temperance

Strength

Branches:

•Skeptic BFF: Having been best friends with Max and Laura, I knew they weren't okay. With their absence, I grew skeptical of Chris Hackett and his promises.

#my stuff #fluff #fanfic #the quarry #the quarry fanfic #mxm #bxb #horror #magic #dark magic #psychological horror #gore #violence #mature #apocalypticnova

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