Schuyler Bradshaw

The cold December air wrapped around Schuyler's body as she shut the front door of her shared apartment.

From the front porch, the night seemed harmless.

The neat hobby garden in front of her apartment door stood with stubborn yellow tulips, unwilling to die in the freezing temperatures.

Streetlights ran up either side of the road, and the surrounding buildings were bright from light pollution.

Inside the separate homes, life hadn't settled down for the night, yet. For the first time during the Fall semester, buzzing students prepared for final exams on a Thursday night instead of drinking it away.

Schuyler clung to her keychain, her pepper-spray swayed back and forth, loyally awaiting for any needed assistance. She slid her smartphone into her sports bra as she walked away from her home.

She mentally went down a list of things she must do in the morning.

She would have to wake up early tomorrow, at least an hour before class started, and run to her professor's office hours. There, she would beg for a second chance on her term paper. The reality was, though, that he would probably twist his mouth into an unempathetic smile and ask her to leave his office.

"Remember, Schuyler," she whispered to herself as she traveled farther down the empty street. Behind Schuyler, her house faded from sight. "Professors are humans, too. Professors are human, too." She turned the mantra over and over on her tongue, attempting to convince herself.

Schuyler's feet followed the sidewalk, leading her to turn the sharp corner of the road.

From there, the campus garden came into her view. In the dead of night, it fell empty, but during the day, students played games of frisbee and spent lazy days underneath the sun in hammocks. Other than the occasional jog and cutting through the bushels of flowers on the way to class, Schuyler ignored the garden.

She turned her gaze up the clear sky. A full moon shone down on her pale skin, and her body nearly illuminated against the contrast of the dark night.

After her meeting with her professor, she would have an obligatory cry in the nearest bathroom. There, she would loudly sob until someone walked in. Schuyler would cram her hands down her throat in attempt to keep herself quiet, but an embarrassingly pathetic sniffle would alarm her fellow woman. Then, she had the option of mumbling "sorry" between a sad tiny hiccup, or ignoring the entire situation and walking out like it never happened.

She would choose the latter.

Schuyler nodded to herself. Her life was going too well anyway, something like this was bound to happen. One could only skip out on bad luck for so long until it finally caught up.

She just really wished it had waited three more weeks, when grades were finalized and she secured anything higher than a 3.5 GPA.

Her red hood flipped off of her head as she neared the campus's garden. Aside for her, no one else littered the manicured pathways or clean sidewalks.

In the dark, campus seemed as harmless as it did in the day. Instead of looking over her shoulder at every twig snap and leaf crunch, Schuyler walked onward, completely unbothered.

Someone would have to be extremely stupid to commit a crime at a place like this. Polls fixed with emergency phones, directly connected to the local and university police force, were bright with flashing red lights to catch passerby's attention.

Schuyler smiled to herself, still lost in deep thought, when a loud thud forced her attention to the path in front of her.

The garden held different sections of environment, from a flat field designed for games; to bundles of perfectly distanced trees, for sunny days spent in hammocks; to the pathways that led to thick patches of tall, oak trees and wildflowers native to the surrounding area.

Schuyler had led herself inside the forest almost without thinking. She was so deep in the grove of trees that all light, aside for a stray moonbeam, disappeared completely.

Alone, she stood in perfect silence.

She couldn't always find this quiet at home.

Something was always buzzing, or someone never stopped talking.

There had to be a shower running, or a wine glass breaking, or her computer overheating. Something needed to pollute the quiet, surrounding air.

But, not here. Not in this tiny, pocketful of forest.

Here, she was alone, and nothing swayed in the wind or creaked underneath a featherlight footstep.

At least, not at first. Not for minutes after the thud split the air apart.

But, then it came again. This time, the crackling of leaves, like something heavy pushed piles of dry foliage into the ground and forced it to crinkle and split underneath the pressure.

"Is--" Schuyler swallowed audibly. In her left hand, she clung to her pepper-spray with a pathetic sense of desperation. "Is anyone there?"

She hoped her voice didn't break in half partnered with her brave words.

As she expected, no reply came from the silent, clear night.

So, like any sane throw-away character in a B horror film, she repeated herself.

Only this time, she was louder.

"Excuse me?" She rang out in a crystal clear voice. "Is anyone out here with me?"

With no reply, Schuyler furthered the stakes.

"I have-- I have pepper spray." She shoved the weapon to the sky, encouraging her boogeyman to flee at the sight of it. "I'm-- I'll use it. I will."

There was another snap, another thud that rattled the teeth in her mouth.

They heard me. They must've.

She rolled her lip over her teeth. Her jaw tensed, suddenly aware she was no longer alone in the forest.

Schuyler continued down the dirt path, carefully treading in attempt to remain quiet.

I should turn back. I should just turn around now if I have any sense.

Regardless of her fears, she pushed onward. She listened closely to the sounds of the forest around her.

Nothing but the cracking of foliage sounded. Nothing but the strange thudding, the heavy dragging sound, traveled through the oak trees.

Her skin turned hot as anxiety crept over her shoulders, demanding she cling tighter to her pepper-spray.

So she did. Her knuckles turned white from the firm pressure of her grip.

Maybe if she held tight enough, nothing bad would happen.

Nothing bad could happen.

She gritted her teeth and continued onward. She would make a simple loop around the garden and run back home.

She wouldn't even take one glance back. She didn't want to please her unfounded anxiety.

Schuyler rounded the corner that split the garden in half.

Now, she stood in the deepest part of the forest.

With every step, she was closer to home and farther from the strange thudding still echoing around her.

She nodded to herself. She could be brave.

She was brave.

Which was a silly thought to have in the middle of the campus garden. Nowhere should be safer.

Nothing else should be as safe as the cool quiet of the tree-tops and winter night.

Then, the thudding turned louder. And closer. And right behind her ears, until it turned into a stream of noise so loud it screamed in her ear like a train horn.

She wanted to cover her ears. She needed to run.

Instead, she stopped.

Most people had fight or flee ingrained in their DNA, Schuyler possessed neither.

In the face of danger, she turned to stone. Her fist clenched, not to fight or tear or hurt, but because her body refused to do anything but tense and turn and twist into itself.  Like she could disappear completely if she simply froze.

As fear crippled her, noise disappeared.

The forest turned strangely quiet, like a tree was walking.

She took a trembling step forward. As her foot landed in the foliage-covered ground, a howl split the night in half.

The sudden noise propelled her forward.

Schuyler quivering limbs broke into a desperate sprint. Her chest turned heavy as her heart beat frantically.

As she ran, the world around her turned into a blur of dark green and moonlight. Stray branches and thicket bushes caught on her leggings as she tore apart the pathway in desperation.

She needed out. She needed to sit in the safety of her home as Rina pushed a cup of coffee into her cold hands and a blanket over her trembling thighs. She needed a searing hot bath and a shot of whiskey to cool her thrumming heart.

Seconds before she left the forest, before she finally reached the safety of a paved sidewalk and cell services, Schuyler froze dead in her tracks.

In front of her, the body of an older woman lay bent and bleeding. Her silver hair reflected the moonlight, and her eyes stared empty and dead in Schuyler's direction.

Her hands curved up and curled away from her body, rigid from rigor mortis. The blood pooled to the bottom of her body, turning her freckled skin into a pale sheet of paper.

Above her stood a lone wolf, the same color of rust with golden eyes staring into Schuyler. Its shadow fell over the silhouette of its victim, claiming her as its prey.

Then, its body turned. The pelt moved and constricted, like its narrow ribcage trapped beneath fur was snapping and cracking and breaking.

The wolf's paws dug into the dirt. Claws stretched and pressed into the ground as the animal was possessed with sudden pain.

Jaws snapped. Jaws and canines and ears and snouts snapped and turned and twisted. And melted away.

They folded into each other, divided and multiplied until nothing remained.

Nothing except the silhouette of a man.

Author's Note
Sorry this took so long. I was swallowed completely by midterms and then Spring Break.
Thank you guys for sticking with me, I know my updating schedule is horrible but i am trying to hold myself to an update every Thursday or Friday.
I hope you guys enjoyed.
Tell me what you liked, tell me what you didn't!
❤️