"I can't really see his face."
Diana Porter sat in the office across from Mrs. Grayson, her advisor, even as she recounted her story. There was something comforting about the office, at least, something comforting about the various portraits set up on the bureau, as well as the colors of the office. At least things didn't seem as terrifying, somehow. It was a reminder, looking around at the calming pale palette of the office, the various books on the shelves, the photographs of the Grayson family, that she wasn't in this strange, distorted nightmare world anymore. Everything was fine now. She was safe.
Are you safe, really?
It was the sort of question that Diana wished that she didn't have to ask, but here she was. This man...this living shadow seemed to be dogging her from the day she was born.
It wasn't the sort of thing that you usually remembered, but somehow, Diana knew. It wasn't one of those things you brought up to Mrs. Grayson as, nice as the witch was, there were some things that even she would find difficult to believe. "I don't remember, but I just know." It wasn't the sort of thing you just said. Even Diana, sometimes, wasn't certain herself, especially considering the matter of how strange it all felt.
Mrs. Grayson, carefully, looked over her books. She was a pretty middle-aged woman, with dark red hair tied back in a bun, her glasses making her eyes look almost owlish in nature. There wasn't any judgment in those eyes, though, and Diana was grateful. After all, she wouldn't have thought that this was ridiculous if not for the fact that all this, all of it, seemed true.
"What do you manage to see, Diana?"
"Well," Diana said, "I think I can see a meadow. It's a long meadow — it seems to stretch out into forever. There's a lot of flowers. Beautiful flowers. It's something you wouldn't think about at first...at least until you find the woman's corpse."
"A corpse?"
"Yeah." Diana swallowed. Even recounting this part was enough to frighten her. The presence that seemed to be gaining on her even as she ran through this ridiculously, almost ironically sunny meadow, the sun beating down on her neck and her hair and the rest of her. The sun that seemed almost uncontrollable in its heat. And then seeing the body of the woman with black hair. Her hair, spilling around her like a dark lake, her skin seeming pale as a marble statue and her eyes, big eyes, green eyes, staring up into space, defiant, as if she were making a stand against a foe that threatened to take her down, and though she would ultimately go down, she would take her enemy with her. Her mouth, frozen as if in the midst of one last dramatic, defiant statement. And the marks on her body — tearing claws, teeth. The body had been dead for quite some time in the dream, to the point that there were already insects buzzing around it.
That was usually the point, looking over the body, feeling the pursuer gaining on her — this presence whose face she could not see — him coming within an inch of her, that Diana would wake up, and Great Aunt Pauline would be chuckling at some sitcom in the other room, and her adoptive mother would be asleep. Diana would have to look around, of course, have to reassure herself that she was still in the right room, that this was her room, photos and all, this was her room with Netflix playing to help Diana sleep, and that she was safe. All the while wishing that she could get to sleep without those strange images dancing in front of her eyes. She envied those who had good dreams. She always did.
"Those dreams have been going on for quite some time, haven't they?" Mrs. Grayson's voice was careful all the while, gentle, enough for Diana to relax a bit despite herself.
Diana nodded. "A long time, actually. It's always been a recurring dream of mine — not a constant one. It's just something that's always been in the back of my head and comes up when I don't want it to. Usually when I'm under stress." That was true enough. There always was the fear of the Monster Slayer reaching where they lived; Mom had constantly moved Diana from place to place just to avoid that. It seemed that the only real constant in Diana's childhood was, honestly, the matter of the wolves she had been raised with. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually felt stability. A feeling of belonging. She always was prepared to move, just to get away from the ever present threat of the Monster Slayer, just to get away from the ever present worry of please-God-don't-let-him-get-me.
Having a proper home was something that was almost out of the question. Mom had always wished for a "proper" home, just for a while. Just to make sure they were all safe.
"One day, pup, things will be better. I promise."
In truth, "better" mostly seemed like the things of fairytales. A good dream, but a dream nonetheless. The nightmare was her reality — the living, faceless shadow chasing her throughout the woods. Diana already envied those who didn't have a Slayer after them. Then again, everyone had their own, didn't they?
The community definitely did, at least.
Diana nodded. "It's not the first time. He's been...a lot like a living shadow hanging over my life."
She could still remember things like one of the boys at school taunting her. "You're not afraid of the Big Bad Slayer, are you?" And "The Big Bad Slayer's gonna get you if you don't watch out!" Not to mention some of the games that they played when they were still little, actually. Hunters and Prey. Whoever got tagged either joined the Hunters or was "dead". The adults had never really approved of it. Looking back, it was for obvious reasons. Quite obvious, actually.
"I think that it's been hanging over all our lives, actually. You are far from alone."
"I suppose." Diana sighed. "Do you know any exercises I can do to calm myself after I have those flashes? After I have those moments?"
"Well, first off, comfort yourself. Is there anything you like to do?"
"I like to read. Just for starters. I like watching movies. Things like that."
"Do something you love after having those flashes. You have been going through a hard time, after all. You deserve that much, Annie. We're all afraid."
"Yeah." Diana took a deep breath. She could already assume as much just from some of the ways that people looked, things she was used to by now. We're all afraid. It might as well have been the motto of the town of Haven, Virginia, at least in times like these. Mrs. Grayson didn't treat her horribly, and yet, still, Diana couldn't help but flinch. At least on the inside.
Mrs. Grayson continued, a little bit softer, as if sensing Diana's tension. "And that's why taking care of yourself is more important than ever. Remember your grounding exercises, Diana. Stuff like looking around, naming the things around you. Saying today's date. And distract yourself. Distract yourself before bed. Hopefully that will help you. Also...take this."
It wasn't really anything special-looking. It was an amulet, a green one, and yet even putting it on, it was enough to give Diana a strange feeling of peace, of being centered. Something she hadn't really felt when she'd first walked into the office hoping she wasn't wasting Mrs. Grayson's time. Hoping that she would even be there in the first place. Mrs. Grayson had never acted like Diana was wasting her time, and yet still, Diana worried.
"Thank you," she said. Then, "What is it?"
"It's a grounding amulet. You're definitely not the first student that I've had to give them to."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Keep it close."
"I will." Diana sighed. "I better go. I'm probably violating curfew as is." She already had a feeling that Great Aunt Pauline or Mom was going to be terrified if she was too late for curfew or anything of that sort. They always did overprotect her. It was something that she could understand and yet was also annoyed by. She wished that they didn't have to live in fear. Not that there was anything else they could really do, of course.
"As am I. Good luck, Diana. Be sure to tell me how it goes."
"I will."
Diana was already heading outside the office then, past the plaque that read LILY GRAYSON, ROOM 334, past the other counselors that were already booking appointments with other students. Some were already discussing snippets of what was on their minds, snippets such as "there was just something about that book where I was back in Indiana again and hiding in that room..." and "I'm scared I'm going to be next." Never quite the option to be a college kid, was there? After all, they were just kids. I'm just a kid, and life is a nightmare, wasn't that how that song went? They really were just kids. Not children, exactly, not really, but they were still kids. In comparison to everyone else, they really were just kids.
Kids trying to survive in a world like this, and wondering when exactly they would make it to the next day. There always was the threat of the Monster Slayer hanging over their heads after all.
Always the threat of his men. Always the threat of the next killing that would inevitably reach campus. Even as Diana continued outside, past the walls of the school, she wondered deep inside if they would ever truly feel safe.
Along the walls were posters, ranging from movie night, which included stuff like the Director's Cut of the movie Nightbreed, to safety tips for other campus members. Never let your guard down. Always carry some way of self-defense. Train in ways of self-defense. There were even announcements of classes in that regard, what kind of self-defense that these people could do.
They were whispering about her, the others in the hallway. The same old song. They weren't outright taunting her, but there was always a sort of undertone of fear.
Diana couldn't say she minded. She was used to the whispers from some of the students — not as overt as you would see at, say, a high school spreading rumors about you, but some of the whispers circulated when they thought that no one was listening. Things like, "Is that her? Diana Porter, the outsider?"
"Yeah, that's her."
"Why would a werewolf incorporate one of the humans into their ranks? It's treason. At least it's an invitation to get stabbed in the back."
"Yeah. I'm just worried about what the humans will do next." Always with reports of what kind of havoc that the Monster Slayer and his men had wrought this time. Whatever bombing, torching, staking, or anything like that they had committed this time. There was always another murder. The regular human world media had taken to calling him the "Van Helsing Killer" thanks to his methods resembling something out of the Bram Stoker telling of the legend. But Van Helsing himself wouldn't have wanted something like this.
Diana knew the stories. Long ago, Van Helsing was an honorable man. The Monster Slayer...well, if there was honor in him, she knew she hadn't seen it. Nobody she knew, nobody who attended her school, nobody her age really knew how exactly he had come to power and they didn't particularly care either. He was simply the boogeyman, looming over their world like a living shadow, waiting for the next kill, waiting for the next life to take. There had been constant reports of destruction over the years, and the Monster Slayer had always managed to stay off the radar from the Balancers and the normal world police alike. He had been almost completely elusive.
She only wished that she didn't have to be grouped in with the humans. After all, she was nothing like them. She never had been like them. She knew enough of the hairless monsters, the hairless demons and beasts, to know that she would never ever be like them, would never ever hurt anyone the way that the humans did. She hated them as much as the others did, but others didn't seem to believe her. They didn't believe that she was capable of anything more than what humans were renowned to do.
She kept it bottled in, of course. But it didn't mean that it didn't hurt. It always hurt. People just didn't really see it.
She just wished there was some way to prove herself to them. Of course, Luna would tell her to ignore them, that they didn't matter, but it did matter, it always mattered, it always hurt. It seemed at times that she had two groups to dodge — the people who wanted to kill her and the people who hated and distrusted her for the skin she wore, as humans did in turn.
Having two groups to dodge, Diana Porter knew, was far from fun.
Diana had a life to lead, of course. And it wasn't as if she didn't lead it. Going out with her friend Faith to see a movie or something, talking about actors and actresses they found attractive (Faith definitely had her share of girl crushes), anything like that, actually. It wasn't as if she didn't lead that life, but all the while, there was always the undercurrent of fear. Whether it be a news report or the snap of a twig behind them when they were just walking towards the house at night, a strange noise when they were trying to sleep...
There were times, Diana thought, where it was as if they were living the life of someone in a slasher movie before the personal threats to them began. Always this threat: who was going to be next? Were they ever going to catch the guy? She wondered absently if humans really knew what being in a slasher movie felt like, the ever present atmosphere of dread. Did they know how terrifying it truly was? Diana knew that she identified with too many slasher movies for her liking, and she already wished that she was like some of the heroines there. As brave as them, as resourceful as them. She wasn't Nancy Thompson or Laurie Strode, though. She definitely wasn't as brave as them.
Maybe Jamie Lloyd, from the fourth, fifth and sixth Halloween movies. Yeah. That was possible. Jamie Lloyd, the grown version, who she probably was if the sixth movie hadn't happened.
Diana's car was outside in the parking lot, in the "circle" as some of the students called it. Around her, there were students chatting with their friends about everything from news stories to the new movies that were coming out. Even as she unlocked the car, the students' chatter almost like irrelevant background noise now, Diana could swear that she could feel someone else's eyes on her, all but boring into her, surveying her coldly, scrutinizing her. She turned around, no, practically spun around —
— only to see that it was a student who walked towards the car that just pulled up, a red Range Rover car that pulled up just alongside Diana's own car, a few spaces back. "There you are, Brad; what took you so long? Glad to be out of purgatory?"
A chuckle from Brad. "You bet."
"Same here. Wanna go to the movies?"
"Yeah. Definitely. I heard that new home invasion movie is pretty good..."
Diana sighed in relief. Of course you had to overreact like that. Of course.
Then again, in a world like this, it wasn't really overreacting when your life, every second of it, seemed to have danger looming over it at every turn.
Diana got in the car then and fastened her seatbelt, before hitting the gas pedal. The radio was already broadcasting the latest atrocity that the Monster Slayer and his ilk had committed, but Diana switched the radio from that to the rock music station. It was playing one of those songs that Mom would have liked.
Mom. The Pale Wolf. Mama Wolf. Not really Diana's mother, not by blood — her parents had died when she was two years old, and Sylvia Porter had taken her then out of a debt to two of her old friends. But she was the best mother that Diana had known, perhaps the only one that she had known. She had taught Diana how to hunt, how to survive, how to show compassion for other people and the difficult lives they led, how to be a good member of the pack and a good sentient being, and she hadn't minded Diana's inclusion in the pack one bit.
"Neither blood nor species make family." That was what she had said to Diana once, and Diana had taken comfort in that.
Diana could only hope that one day she could believe that. And she hoped that she could be as brave as her adoptive mother as well.
Diana continued down the road, oblivious to the masked figure watching her from the curb, almost as if fascinated by her, calculating her every move — before getting in his car and heading back to his own hideout.