The sun came back, somehow. Each second felt like an hour under the night sky. My muscles and bones throbbed in pain as I sat on the dirt. Adam sat next to me, his eyes dark holes. The two of us stared at the hastily made headstone, a fresh pile of dirt piled in front of it. The names, Lisa and Grant, chiseled into the center of the concrete slab. The jagged letters formed by Brew's claws.

The past hours replayed in my head. Constantly cycling through each scene. Pausing at moments of pains and blood. Counting down the amount of damage that I made. Marking things that I could have done better. That could have prevented all of this. 

Brew found us after he heard gunshots. He didn't say anything once he saw the scene. All that was said was splattered on our faces. Brew did his best to shuffle all of us away, back to the house.

The smell of the other hunters were gone. Their van had also disappeared. I doubt they had the sense to run away. Something made them disappeared.

When we wandered back to the house there were people there. Two people stood by the greenhouse inspecting the busted door. The two of them wore long-sleeved clothing to hide most of their skin. Their faces had a pale milky tone, blue veins spread out on their faces. They smelled like death. A foul decomposition wafted around them. They were preserved in blood and skin that should have rotted off by now.

Brew walked over to the two, talking to them as everyone else lumbered inside. The three talked about what happened, Brew waving over at me and Adam while the pale ones nodded along. I didn't pay much attention to their conversation but words fell into my ears.

".....basement is free of sunlight when morning comes...."

"Thanks....a messy cleanup...."

"...any survivors?"

"None." Brew sighed.

The word stiffened my body. None. No one. Does that apply to us as well? Are more hunters gonna come here cause we killed them? Cause we bit of them? What about Lisa and Grant's dad? Is he come after us now? Is this town safe for us anymore? Did I just doomed this place for any other desperate werewolf on the run?

My stomach boiled as those thoughts wormed themselves in. Soft acidic chunks erupted from my mouth, my throat burning from the aftermath.  My body had finally lost the last rush of adrenaline holding me up. My legs dropped me on the ground as I vomited. I just wanted to stay here. If I do, then I can prevent someone else from getting hurt by me.

Brew cut his conversation with the pale figures and walked over to me. Pulling me back up as my legs gave out. They were limp and weak in defiance.

Put me back where I belong.

"You did good," Brew whispered, leading me inside the house. "It doesn't seem like it now, but I promise you did everything right."

So why do I feel like everything is my fault?

"Hey, Bailey?"

Adam's cracked voice snapped me back to the present. My eyes tore off the headstone and looked over to him. His dark eyes remaining on the headstone. Shadows blanketed his face from the fresh morning sun.

"Yeah?" I croaked.

I wanted to keep my eyes away from the headstone but there was another one a couple of feet away. Rows of faded tombstones littered across the backyard of the house. All of them were people, werewolves. People who died from hunters, illness, and old age. Not alot of the people buried here died from old age.

Brew had built a graveyard for us since he was here. A lot of times when one of us dies we don't have time to put them to rest. We either let their bodies get taken by hunters or abandon them in the dirt so we can keep running.

I asked him why after a day of helping attend the graveyard. He explained he didn't want to look at a patch of grass and wonder if someone died there. Alone and cold, with no one to remember and mourn them.

"Did you ever bit someone?"

And there it was. The ghost rattled the door and broke out. Crawling out as a cold chill ran down my spine. My shoulders rolling over to brace for the impact. Faint noises ringing in the back of my ear.

Breathe. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

"Yeah," I said softly.

The word felt like anvil pressing down on my tongue. Shattering the ground underneath me as it hung in the air. Adam kept his eyes to the headstone, his eyes watering.

"Who was it?" Adam asked over a stiff cough.

"My girlfriend."

Adam looked back at me, meeting me with my own teary eyes. Hot lead balls crashing the inside of my throat.

"What happened?"

An old ghost appeared behind me. I could already feel her gaze beating down my neck. The smell of snot and tears running down her face.Trying to wipe off the fresh blood on her face. Covered in the same three days old clothes she wore when she came to Brew.

Just breathe. That's all I have to do.

"Um...when I got bit," I stammered, pushing through the lodge. "I didn't know he was a werewolf. I thought it was just a really weird dog that got abandoned in the middle of the night. My girlfriend was living with me at the time. We were together for about a couple of years. After the bite, I went to the hospital to get it checked out and stitched up. Seemed like a normal dog bite. Just get a shot for rabies and let it heal. Everything was about the same for a couple of weeks. Till my first full moon."

I could hear soft cries from behind me. The ghost was leaning over me, wrapping its bloody hands around my neck. Adam's face grew dark as he drew his eyes down to the ground.

"We were walking after dinner. I was gonna ask her to marry me at this little Italian restaurant we used to eat at all the time. But I chickened out. I didn't think it was the right moment. And I wasn't feeling well that day. It felt like dynamite blown up in my stomach. So I thought some air would help. After walking a little, maybe I'll get enough courage to do it. But as soon as I saw that full moon I....I...."

The ghost squeezed my throat as the screams became clearer. I could hear the ghost letting out soft tears as the blood dripped off my neck. The air turned to ice as I force air into my lungs.

"What happened to her?" Adam croaked back.

The ghost relaxed its grip. Letting one of the lead balls drop.

"She left. " I continued. "When I woke up she had a bite mark on her arm and walked away. I locked myself in the apartment after that. Hoping I could starve myself out before I could bite anyone else. The guy who bit me came back with his pack leader a few days later. He found me in my apartment in a wreck and me practically dead. The guy tried apologizing to me but I just tried to kill him. His pack leader stopped me and he talked about Brew. How it was a safe place for us and starters. He said he'll find her and took me to Brew. A couple of weeks later he brought her over. She looked worse than I did. She didn't talk to me, stayed away from me the whole time she was there. After a couple of months, she found her own pack. Last I heard she was pretty happy."

The ghost let go of my neck, the faint screams fading away. Adam moved his eyes to the ground letting the memory play out in silence.

"I'm sorry." He muttered softly.

"It's okay." I cracked as hot tears rolled out from my eyes.

"Hey...Bailey?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for not giving up on me."

"Of course. I will never give up on any of you guys."

Adam started to shake, huffing out air as tears came flooding out. His hands clasping around his head as he cried out. I reached out and wrapped my arm around his shoulder, hugging him gently as the cries echoed out.

After a couple of minutes, the crying stopped. Drying off from the gentle wind that passed us by. I got up and moved away, Adam's eyes remaining on the headstone. The sun blanketing him from the golden morning light. A couple of headstones over was Will, standing over one. Staring over the names on the slab. As I walked over to him, I could see three names on the stone. Will looked like he was biting the corner of his lips. His eyes turning into glass the longer he read the names.

Once I got next to him, I gently patted his back. Thank you.

Will nodded softly with a thumbs up, his eyes remaining on the gravestone. You're welcome.

The second ball of lead dropped, crushing my stomach. My throat spasmed as it tried to fill the hole. But only a wave of silent cries and plugged tears came.

I walked away letting the two mourn. I went to the back porch where Brew and Gwen were at. Brew was standing on the steps with a steaming mug in hand. Gwen was sitting on the steps with a blanket wrapped around her. Her head kept nodding to sleep and snapping back up. Her eyelids becoming dark slivers as she watched Adam and Will.

"How they're doing?" Gwen mumbled.

I sighed. "Good. Hows our guests doing?"

Brew took a sip of his drink. "Thankfully I had a couple of coffins to spare so they'll be comfortable till night comes."

The crows, cleaners. They were comfortable with death. They helped out in messes like this. They always smelled like blood and dead bodies. Never had a full conversation with them. They generally kept to themselves or traded small talk with Brew after being briefed. I don't know how they got here so fast. Generally, they're pretty safe in the cities. They can blend easier and get the stuff they need. Not needing to change every month will probably help. But I can't imagine how horrible that thrust can be. Never being able to see the sun again.

"Okay."

"How do you think people are gonna react that you buried hunters in a werewolf graveyard?" Gwen yawned.

Brew shrugged as he glanced over to Adam. "Don't know what you're talking about. The two that are buried are a werewolf and her fallen brother. Right?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Gwen looked over at me and Brew seeing our faces harden from the statement. She nodded along wrapping herself tightly.

"What's gonna happen to the town?" Gwen asked.

"Probably gonna send a couple more crows  to watch over us." Brew yawned. "Make sure we repair a few things to the town. Give a funeral to the diner owner. Notify the family. Give them rest that he did their best to help us."

I breathed out the lead weight in my stomach. "Do you-"

"Nope." Brew cut off. "It never gets easier when you have to bury your own family."

Brew's been at this for years. He was born with it. No choice. He's seen more blood and dead bodies than any of us. So when do we get the point that we're used to it? Or we're able to hide the pain.

"Hey, Brew?"

Brew pulled out my camera from his pocket. I managed to huff out a laugh. I'm that easy to read, even with only ten minutes of sleep. I smiled a "thanks" at him as he nodded back, handing over the camera.

"Hey, guys?" I called out, my voice cracking as it tried to project. "Can you come over here?"

Will and Adam turned around, glancing at the camera in my hand. Will helped Adam up as they lumbered over. Will stood behind me as Adam plopped next to me. Gwen scooted over to my other side scrunching in frame. I half expected Brew to make a half-hearted excuse to not be in the photo but he stayed. Putting up a soft smile as he brushed back his chopped hair through his hands.

The invisible stitches around my face had popped off, the wounds still bloody. The ghost let go of my throat, floating back to its coffin. The monster laid dormant in it's cage. Resting, keeping its eyes on the graveyard.

Remember this. You did your best. Even when things went to shit, you did your best. Remember the lives that were changed and lost here. You are a pack leader. But they are your family.

All of us put on small smiles as I reached out with the camera, getting everyone in frame. It may be a reminder of what happened. To tell us what can go wrong. But we made it through. Even with new scars added to our flesh. We survived. And we will keep surviving. It

What we are, we are human. And we deserved to live. No matter what.