A few weeks had passed, and the frantic pace of life had, thankfully, swallowed some of the immediate sting of betrayal. Mark had finally stopped calling, his pathetic attempts at reconciliation fading into silence. Sarah, meanwhile, had buried herself in work. Inventory and tax season at the dental office were relentless, often keeping her past nine o'clock.
Tonight was one of those nights. The office lights clicked off behind her, casting long shadows as she stepped out into the cool, damp air. She hated walking alone at night, especially through the park that served as a shortcut to her apartment. But sometimes, you just had to suck it up.
The park was eerily quiet, the familiar sounds of daytime replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of the city. She kept to the paved path, her pace quick and purposeful. That's when she started hearing them: noises from the dense tree line, like branches cracking underfoot. They weren't constant, but sporadic, always seeming to come closer. Her heart began to pound, a primal alarm bell ringing in her ears. She quickened her pace, her knuckles white around the strap of her handbag.
The cracking sounds intensified, growing louder, closer. Her breath hitched. She was almost out of the park, just a few more yards to the street. Then, in her peripheral vision, a blur of dark fur.
Suddenly, right before her eyes, a wolf popped out of the bushes. It was large, far larger than any wild dog, with eyes that glinted in the dim light. Her own eyes went wide, fear seizing her. Every instinct screamed.
She didn't think; she just jolted, running with a burst of desperate energy she didn't know she possessed. She ran all the way to her apartment building, her lungs burning, the cold night air searing her throat. Her fingers fumbled with her keys, finally finding the lock. She twisted it, threw the door open, and slammed it shut, locking it as quickly as she could.
Leaning against the cool wood of the door, Sarah gasped, trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving. The adrenaline slowly receded, leaving her trembling. "Did I just see a wolf?" she questioned herself, her voice hoarse, disbelieving. "What... How..." The rational part of her mind rebelled, but the vivid image, the sheer terror, was undeniable. Sarah pushed away from the door, forcing a shaky laugh that sounded brittle in the quiet apartment. "I'm just tired," she muttered to herself, running a hand through her disheveled hair. "I saw nothing... that would be crazy." Her rational mind, desperate for normalcy, tried to dismiss the image, to reclassify the large, glinting-eyed creature as something mundane. A stray dog, perhaps. But the sheer size, the wildness of its eyes...
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the lingering fear. A quick sandwich, she decided, something to settle her stomach. After eating, she stripped off her clothes and pulled on her comfortable, oversized t-shirt, the fabric a familiar comfort. She tucked herself into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, seeking refuge from the unsettling thoughts that still pricked at the edges of her mind. Sleep, however, was elusive. Every creak of the old building, every rustle outside, had her eyes snapping open.
The morning came too quickly, painted in shades of tired gray light. Sarah groaned, feeling more exhausted than when she'd gone to bed. "This is ridiculous," she thought, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She stumbled to the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee a welcome promise.
Cup in hand, she sat at her small kitchen table, staring out the window, the image of the previous night stubbornly refusing to fade. "A wolf," she whispered, the word tasting foreign on her tongue. "There's no way... had to have been a dog." But even as she tried to convince herself, a nagging doubt persisted. "No way we have wolves out here," she argued, trying to ground herself in logic. She lived in a city, not the remote wilderness.
Yet, the clarity of the image, the primal terror it had invoked, felt too real to dismiss entirely.
A strange, almost defiant curiosity began to override her fear. She had to know. It was a dumb idea, she knew it. But the lingering uncertainty was worse. Sarah sighed, setting down her coffee cup with a decisive clink. She got up, went to her closet, and started to get dressed, her mind made up. She was going back to the park. She was going to investigate. Sarah left her apartment, the cool morning air doing little to settle the nervous flutter in her stomach. She tried to retrace her steps from last night, consciously keeping her pace even, forcing herself to look like any other person out for a morning stroll. People were already going about their day – joggers, dog walkers, parents pushing strollers – and she desperately needed to blend in, to project an air of normalcy despite the wild theories swirling in her head.
She thought she found the area where she'd been when she saw it. The trees were dense here, the path veering slightly, just as it had last night. Hesitantly, she moved off the paved path, pushing aside a few low-hanging branches to step towards the bush where the creature had emerged. Her eyes scanned the undergrowth, searching for anything, any sign.
And then she saw it. A few strands of dark, coarse fur caught on a broken branch. It was undeniable. She picked one up, rolling it between her fingers. "Huh... okay..." she mumbled, trying to rationalize. "A dog is still possible." But even as she said it, the fur felt too thick, too wild, to be from a typical canine.
A foolish thought sparked in her mind: Maybe it needs help. Against her better judgment, she decided to follow the faint, disturbed path leading deeper into the woods, guessing the direction the animal had gone. She wasn't sure where she was going, but the need to find an explanation, to prove to herself that her mind wasn't playing tricks, propelled her forward.
She walked for what seemed like hours, the city sounds fading behind her, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the chirp of unseen birds. The sun filtered through the canopy, dappling the forest floor. Eventually, tired and growing frustrated, she stopped, finding a huge, moss-covered log that looked like it had been there for ages. She sank onto it, closing her eyes, trying to just listen. The woods were quiet, save for the gentle whisper of the wind through the trees.
"Well, looks like nothing is here," she mumbled to herself, disappointment settling in. Just as she was pushing herself up to leave, a faint sound reached her ears. Grunting noises coming from somewhere to her right. It wasn't an animal's grunt, not exactly. More like... human effort.
Her heart began to pound again, but this time, curiosity edged out the fear. Slowly, cautiously, she started moving in that direction, following the strange, guttural sounds deeper into the quiet woods. Sarah moved stealthily through the undergrowth, the grunting noises growing steadily louder, more rhythmic. Her heart hammered with a mix of trepidation and burgeoning curiosity. As the trees began to thin, her view cleared, and her breath hitched.
Before her, nestled in a clearing that seemed impossibly perfect, stood the most beautiful house she had ever seen. It looked about three stories tall, a grand structure of rich, dark wood and stone, wrapped in a wide, inviting porch that spoke of lazy summer afternoons. The grass surrounding it was an impossibly vibrant green, manicured to perfection, and near what looked like a beautiful, winding garden path, a fountain shimmered in the dappled sunlight, its gentle splash the only sound initially breaking the forest's quiet.
"What is this place?" Sarah thought, her eyes wide, gazing across the property. It felt like something out of a dream, or a hidden world. Her gaze swept over the meticulously kept grounds, finally stopping on a group of people gathered in an open area beyond the garden. They were moving with a fierce, almost violent energy. "It looks like they're fighting?" she mused, a bizarre thought bubbling up. "A fight club, maybe?"
Then she froze. Her entire body locked down, every muscle seizing.
Jamie.
He walked out of the house, his powerful frame instantly recognizable even from a distance. And right behind him, stepping onto the porch with a casual air, was Jake, the bartender.
"WHAT THE FUCK," Sarah breathed, the words ripping from her in a raw, disbelieving whisper. The quiet, idyllic scene shattered around her, replaced by a dizzying storm of shock and incomprehension. The wolf, the drugged drink, Jamie, Jake, the hidden house, the fighting... it was all connected. And she, somehow, was right in the middle of it.
Suddenly, from another part of the property, a group of women appeared, some with small children clinging to their hands. They moved with a quiet, almost deferential air, heading towards the group of men with goodies in hands. The sight was jarring, utterly out of place with the raw, aggressive energy of what looked like a fight club.
"Is this a CULT?!" The terrified thought flashed through Sarah's mind, cold and sharp. The perfectly manicured grounds, the secluded location, the hidden house, the strange "fighting," the presence of Jake the bartender (who had drugged her), and now these women and children moving with such an unnerving purpose. It felt less like a private estate and more like an isolated, self-contained community, veiled in secrecy. "I have to go tell Laura," Sarah thought, the words a frantic mantra in her head. Her mind, reeling from the "cult" realization, spun on the single axis of escape. She pivoted abruptly, ready to bolt back through the woods, back to the safety of her apartment, to her sister, who deserved to know about the dangerous man she was seeing.
But her escape was cut short. As she spun around, she let out a startled yelp, a small, involuntary sound of pure shock.
Jamie was standing directly behind her.
He was so close she could feel the faint warmth radiating from him, the subtle scent of pine and something distinctly masculine. His eyes, those dark, intense eyes, were fixed on hers, reflecting her own wide-eyed terror. For a long, agonizing moment, they simply stared at each other, the silence of the woods amplifying the frantic beat of her heart. Neither seemed to know what to say, what to do.
Sarah was the first to snap out of the paralysis. "Wait... how did you... know I was here?" she stammered, her voice thin and reedy. The question tumbled out, laced with accusation. The wolf, his presence here – it couldn't be a coincidence.
Her gaze darted back to the bizarre scene behind him: the beautiful house, the men fighting, the women with their children. "Is this a cult?!" The word ripped from her, laced with a new wave of panic.
Jamie just stood quiet, his expression unreadable, his silence more terrifying than any accusation he could have uttered. His stillness, his calm, was utterly unnerving, confirming all of Sarah's worst fears. Jamie's stillness was unnerving, his silence stretching the tension taut between them. Then, he spoke, his voice a low, almost guttural murmur that sent a shiver down Sarah's spine. "I could smell you... and what's inside of you."
Sarah stared, bewildered and offended. "What are you talking about?!" she snapped, a flush rising to her cheeks. "Do I smell that bad?!" The bizarre statement, coupled with his intense gaze, made no sense. "And what do you mean, 'inside of me'?"
Jamie took a slow step closer, his eyes fixed on hers, the intensity deepening. "You're pregnant," he whispered, the words barely audible, yet they landed with the force of a physical blow. "With my child."
Sarah reeled back as if struck. Her mind raced, grappling with the impossible. "It's only been like three weeks, dude!" she blurted out, her voice incredulous. "How do you even know I'm pregnant? "You sound nuts right now!" She looked around, half-expecting hidden cameras, convinced this had to be some elaborate, cruel joke. The man she'd woken up next to, the one who was her sister's new boyfriend, was now claiming she was pregnant, and that he could smell it. It was too much. "I am going to tell Laura how nuts you are!" Sarah shrieked, the words fueled by a potent mix of disbelief and escalating terror. "Stay away from my sister!" The threat was hollow, her voice trembling, but she meant it. This man was unhinged, dangerous. The wolf, the cult-like compound, the drugged drink—it all coalesced into a terrifying reality.
She turned sharply, intending to storm past him, to run, to scream for help if she had to. But before she could take more than a single step, Jamie moved with astonishing speed. His arm shot out, strong and unyielding, circling her waist. In the next instant, he effortlessly scooped her up, flinging her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing.
"HEY!!!" she shrieked, her world tilting upside down. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" She struggled wildly, kicking her legs, pounding her fists against his broad back. The ground receded rapidly as he began to move, carrying her deeper into the dense woods, away from any chance of escape, away from any possibility of telling Laura. As Jamie strode across the perfectly manicured grass, heading straight for the beautiful, imposing house, the other people simply stared. None of them reacted. None seemed surprised. Their gazes were neutral, almost expectant, as if witnessing this scene was just another Tuesday. The sight only solidified Sarah's terrifying "cult" theory.
He didn't hesitate, pushing open the grand front door with one hand and stepping inside. The interior was as opulent and perfectly kept as the exterior, but Sarah barely registered the details, her world still upside down, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He bypassed the lower floors, taking the wide, sweeping staircase two steps at a time. The house was vast, the silence around them amplifying her own frantic cries and the frantic beat of her heart.
He didn't stop until he reached the third floor. A hallway stretched out, lined with several closed doors. He pushed open one of them, revealing a large, well-appointed bedroom. With a surprisingly gentle motion, he lowered her from his shoulder, droppingher onto a soft, luxurious bed.
Sarah scrambled back against the headboard, eyes wide, breath catching in her throat. Before she could utter another word, Jamie simply turned, his expression still unreadable, walked out of the room, and shut the door with a soft, yet definitive click. The sound echoed in the sudden silence, a chilling punctuation mark on her abduction. She heard the distinct sound of a lock engaging.
She was trapped. Sarah stared at the door for a stunned moment, then lunged. She twisted the doorknob, frantically, uselessly. It was locked. Her breath hitched, panic rising in a cold wave that threatened to drown her.
"HEY!!!" she screamed, pounding on the solid wood with both fists. "HELP!!!" Her voice cracked, hoarse from crying and screaming, but she didn't care. She hammered again, desperate, primal. "LET ME OUT! HELP ME!"
She paused, straining to hear any response, any sound from beyond the thick door. Nothing. Only the echo of her own desperate cries.
Then, a flicker of hope. Her phone. She had it in her pocket. She could call Laura, call the police, send a text, anything. Her hand plunged into her sweatpants pocket, fingers fumbling.
The pocket was empty.
A fresh wave of terror, colder and more profound than before, washed over her. Jamie had taken her phone. He had thought of everything. She was truly cut off, isolated, completely at his mercy. The last shred of control, of connection to the outside world, was gone. She sank to the floor beside the door, her back pressed against the unyielding wood, tears streaming silently down her face. Trapped. Utterly, terrifyingly trapped. Sarah crumpled on the floor, the cold reality of her situation slowly, terrifyingly setting in. Her phone was gone. The door was locked. She was in a stranger's house, in the middle of nowhere, with a man who had just claimed she was pregnant with his child and clearly had powers beyond her understanding. The initial surge of panic subsided, leaving behind a hollow ache of despair.
Slowly, she pushed herself up, her limbs heavy and unresponsive. There was no point in screaming, no point in pounding on the door. Not yet, anyway. She had to assess her situation. Her eyes, still wide and red-rimmed, began to scan the room.
It was a large bedroom, tastefully decorated with muted tones and plush furnishings. A massive four-poster bed dominated the center, the one she'd been unceremoniously dropped onto. There was a dark wooden dresser, a nightstand with a simple lamp, and a comfortable-looking armchair in the corner. A large window, currently covered by thick, luxurious drapes, promised a view of the outside – or perhaps, a further confirmation of her isolation.
She walked to the window, pulling the heavy fabric aside with trembling hands. Outside, the dense canopy of trees loomed, an unbroken wall of green, confirming she was deep within the woods. No roads, no other houses, just endless forest. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, casting long, eerie shadows.
Her gaze then fell to the ground below. The men were still there, moving with fluid, powerful motions, their "fighting" taking on an almost ritualistic quality in the twilight. And then she saw them more clearly – a few of the women and children were still outside, observing from a distance. A sense of overwhelming unease settled over her. This wasn't just a house; it was indeed a compound. A place where Jamie, and whatever secrets he harbored, were firmly in control.
Sarah turned from the window, hugging herself tightly. The room was beautiful, but it was a cage. She was trapped, with only her racing thoughts for company. She needed to think, to plan. But first, she needed to understand. What was this place? And what, exactly, was Jamie?