I tried ten more times to call my mom before Eve insisted that I needed my rest and hauled me back into the room I awoke in for the night.

I hadn't realized how right she was or how tired I was until the following morning when she was knocking on my door to wake me up. I honestly didn't remember falling asleep.

"Are you awake?" Another series of knocks.

"Yes," I grumbled squinting my eyes open.

She entered without being invited. "I don't believe you. You don't look very awake at all. How about some breakfast? I'll make you some."

"No." It was too fast, both my answer and me jolting upright.

She pursed her lips.

"No one wants your cooking!" A voice shouted from down the hall.

"Alec. Alec likes my cooking," She snapped back in the doorframe.

"Alec just likes sex and he'll do or eat anything to get it," the voice retorted before I could hear thudding on the stairs.

Eve's face was crimson when she turned back to me. "So, breakfast?"

"Do you have cereal?"

She nodded.

"Then yes." It seemed like the safest bet.

Once again she helped me to my feet and downstairs, despite my insistence that I could do it myself.

"Do you think first I can call my mom?" I asked once we made it safely to the kitchen.

"Sure." She handed me her phone.

No luck. "You don't have any bars."

"Honestly I hate that thing," She sighed. "You can try the backyard. Sometimes being outside helps."

I took her advice and wandered outside onto the grass a few paces before service popped up.

"You," a voice spat causing me to stop mid-dial. 

"Oh. Oliver, right?" 

My words only seemed to cause his sneer and scowl to deepen and it was then that I noticed how awful he looked. Like really, he was personified shit. Eyes bagged, breath haggard, his fist balled at his sides.

"It's your fault!" He roared. "Your fault! You'rs! Your's! Your's!"

He was batshit crazy. 

And though I knew it was impossible, I tried to reason with a lunatic. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. Maybe we should sit down and--"

Not even in a blink, he was in front of me, my injured arm in his tightening grip. I winced and he sneered more, the grip ever-tightening.

"Your fault! Yours!"

"Ollie," Eve's voice was even, calm. She stood on the porch with Luke tense next to her. Both of their gazes were focused on Oliver.

Oliver snarled, I repeat, snarled, at Eve. "No! My kill! Mine."

"You know it's not Charlie's fault. She's innocent. You have to be stronger than this. I know it's hard, but you have to be stronger. For her. For Marie."

He wasn't listening. He wasn't speaking. His sounds had morphed from comprehensive words to animalistic sounds. He shoved me away from him and I fell. Arms wrapped around me before I hit the ground.

Luke. He pulled me behind him and near Eve.

Oliver was on his knees clutching his head and violently tearing his head from it. His fingers coated in his own blood and flesh. He crumbled to the ground and begin thrashing.

And then he wasn't Oliver anymore.

Sick, I felt sick in the pit of my stomach as I saw it. It was forever ingrained in my mind and soul. 

The Wolf from the Woods.

Feral. It looked more feral then I had remembered but it was the same. Its eyes meant mine and a snarl rang out. A battle cry.

It lunged.

Last second, something tackled it down a hairs breath from me. Another wolf. They fought, snarling and snapping, and growling. A show and fight of teeth.

Then a resounding snap and the wolf from the woods froze before collapsing. Dead. 

The victor rose up, blood coated on its dark fur, and went to Eve. 

She didn't say anything or react. Her eyes were trained on the dead.

"I--what---he---Oliver--" Too many thoughts roared in my mind.

"He's the wolf," She monotoned before turning from the scene. "Breakfast is ready. I hope you like Captin Crunch. It seems like we have a lot of explaining to do."