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emma-nation · 1 year ago

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The Curse Of Hackett's Quarry

Chapter 2 - The Hermit

Summary: After the events of a traumatic night, Emma Mountebank finds out she still a werewolf. While she learns how to deal with this new reality, new problems and feelings come to surface. Pairings: Emma/Abi, Emma/f!OC

Notes: Thanks for the comments and likes. It means a lot to me as it's the first fic I'm writing after a long break. I hope you enjoy what I've been planning for the next chapters! :)

Full Story:

The Hermit card generally indicates a period of soul-searching, introspection and solitude. A period of isolation attempting to heal from a difficult situation.

The morning after her first transformation, Emma had a hard time cleaning herself before heading back to her dorm in college. She was so exhausted and sick that she missed classes for the next two days.

The second transformation by the end of October wasn't any easier, but she was more prepared this time. She knew what to expect and had enough time to improve the safety measures.

The third transformation was a little less painful. Emma started working out regularly, increasing it significantly by the week of the transformation. She wanted to run a few tests and it worked. The impact of the shifting was more bearable when her body was in a better shape.

The last full moon of 2021 was the most terrible of all, considering Emma got very sick after waking up in the woods with her clothes torn off, during a cold Winter morning.

She had never escaped from her restraints, so far. And with her mother being a dentist surgeon, she had no trouble stealing sedatives to keep the creature drowsy. Her priority at the moment was to find somewhere safe and warm where she could transform without any risks to herself or to other people.

In her old bedroom, at her parents' house, she felt comfortable recording a video again. Not to post online or to show anyone. But she had to vent about everything that was going on.

"People are finally starting to forget about that fucking incident at that cursed Summer Camp. My respects to Mr. H and his family - I hope they found peace, but…" It was sincere. Emma liked Chris and his kids. She lamented their Summer ended in such a tragedy. She didn't know the rest of the family, but the other counselors, who had closer encounters with them, were scared. They seemed kinda dangerous. "I haven't. I'm not allowed to move on. That night will never end, at least for me."

At least the journalists stopped trying to contact Emma or her parents again. The negative comments about her around the internet decreased too. After an episode of the 'Bizarre Yet Bonafide' podcast about Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp, more people started to believe their innocence.

"Everyone else is moving on with their lives - Abi is going to Art School, Kaitlyn is traveling the world, Ryan has started his own podcast, Nick is taking a sabbatical year, Dylan is studying quantum physics and Jacob… well, fuck Jacob. I blocked him everywhere. The thing is, I wish I could do the same. But instead I'm… surviving. I'm learning to adapt to this new fucked up reality."

She hadn't told any of the other counselors she was still infected. No one had called her in months. Yet, she'd check their socials on a daily basis, searching for signs any of them could be struggling with the same issue. Which wasn't happening, after all she was the only one who was bitten by Silas Vorez.

"And the question remains… if Silas is dead, why am I still infected?"

January 2022

There was a reminder flashing on Emma's cell phone screen. Full Moon. That was the reason why she had spent the whole morning working out hard. Now, she was starving and ready to devour as much food as she could. Her appetite had increased significantly that one time.

"Hey, Abi," Emma attempted to call her best friend again while she followed to the campus restaurant. "How have you been? I… I'd love to hear from you. I can't wait to hear everything about Art School. Call me."

"Hello, Red Hood," she heard a familiar voice right behind her. Penelope Dalton. One of the popular girls who wouldn't leave Emma alone. "Who's Abi?"

She ignored the question. Back in High School, she used to be one of the popular girls too and she knew exactly how annoying and cruel they could be.

"Maybe she hasn't called yet because she was taken by the Big Bad Wolf," added Christina, one of Penelope's friends, raising giggles from the rest of their cliqué.

"Or maybe," Penelope continued, "she's a decent person who stood up by her friend, Jacob. After all, we know who caused that bloody fight in the camp, after a Truth or Dare game."

The incoming transformation always triggered Emma's worst moods. The mention of Jacob's name still ignited something inside her, feelings she was trying to bury. She automatically felt her skin burning, as well as the adrenaline pumping in her veins.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Emma attempted to close her eyes and take a deep breath, fighting the urge to go feral and teach that girl a lesson.

"Or what? Are you going to kill me and cry wolf ?"

Her attempt to be funny raised laughs. People were starting to reunite around them to watch the fight.

Less than one second later, Emma's fist hit Penelope right in the eye. It'd certainly leave a nasty bruise.

"Your psychotic bitch! Look what you've done!"

Penelope advanced in her direction, pinning her to the ground, where she started pulling her hair. Emma's reflexes were increased due to her incoming transformation. Although Penelope was taller, soon Emma managed to switch positions and get on top of the girl, slapping her face hard.

It didn't take long for the campus security to arrive. In the end, Penelope only signed an incident report and Emma was punished with a disciplinary suspension. She was also warned about her recurring absences.

During High School, Emma spent all those four years dreaming of college. Now, she didn't know if she wanted to be there anymore. She still could pursue her acting career without that.

After that Full Moon, she decided she wanted a break to find herself again. She decided to quit college and find herself a job.

It wasn't an easy task. Not because she wasn't skilled, but whenever people ran a background check, she'd get rejected. People were still afraid of the negative attention her presence could bring.

That small diner in the heart of New York City was her last resort.

"Name?" The owner, Addison Davies, asked while taking notes on a paper.

"Emma," she told, making a pause before adding her last name. "Mountebank."

The woman didn't seem to be paying too much attention, what gave her some hope. Maybe she wouldn't research her criminal records after all.

"Do you have any experience as a waitress, Emma?"

"No, but I'm a quick learner. I'm also an aspiring actress, which means I have a lot of charisma dealing with people."

She was about to speak about her experience as counselor, where all the kids adored her. But she stopped herself.

"An aspiring actress?"

"Yes. I signed up for a few auditions but while I don't have anything in sight, I need another source of income."

"When can you start?"

"Right now?" Emma furrowed her brows, already expecting another rejection.

It didn't happen. Either that woman didn't read the news or she really didn't care.

"Great, come with me and I'll show you what to do."

Addison was very satisfied to see how good she was doing and how quick she learned. She never asked any questions about Emma's past. She even agreed to give her an extra day off, during one specific day of the month.

Getting a new place to live was Emma's next goal. Her parents weren't happy when she dropped out of college. Living under the same roof was becoming impossible. They argued most part of the time. For many years, Emma did everything to please her parents and fulfill their expectations, but right now, she had other priorities in mind.

During her free time at the diner, she'd check the newspaper for announcements.

"Looking for a place to live?" Jenna was Emma's co-worker. She treated her well since the first day, giving her some useful tips. They were becoming good friends.

"Yes, do you happen to know any?"

"One of my roommates just moved out after graduating. Ben and I could really use somebody else to help with rent."

Benjamin also worked on the diner. He was more quiet and introspective, but very friendly.

"Do you mind if I check it tonight?"

They lived in a studio apartment. The bedroom was large and comfortable, but what caught Emma's attention the most was the basement she noticed once she entered the building. According to Jenna, it was always locked and never used by anyone. That could be the solution to all of her problems. During the Full Moon nights, she could just lock herself in there.

"Do you think the landlord would rent it for me?"

"I don't know, you could speak to him but… why?"

"I… uh… I could use some space to record my videos and rehearse for my auditions, you know?"

Jenna didn't ask any further questions. Emma spoke to the landlord in the same week she moved to the studio. After selling her car, she paid him some cash to have exclusive access to the basement. As well as the permission to make a few adjustments.

Emma had everything prepared for the next Full Moon. Metal chains to restrain her body were installed in the basement. She didn't want the risk of an accident, in case somebody ever decided to open that door to investigate possible noises. There was also a small bathroom in there that she could use to clean herself when she became human again.

"What kind of videos are you recording down here?" Ben was in the basement, holding one of the chains attached to the walls. Wondering if she had forgotten to lock the door, Emma almost dropped the supplies she was carrying downstairs - snacks, water and fresh clothes.

"Horror. I'm really into horror movies and… I've been doing some auditions for a role in the genre."

"Every once in a month?"

She let out a breath. It was obvious they'd notice someday, but she didn't expect it to be so fast.

"Huh?" In that moment, Emma prayed she was really a good actress. She forced a confused expression. "What are you talking about? I come here everyday. When you're still at the diner."

"You were in a terrible mood earlier today," Ben crossed his arms, staring at her with a suspicious look on his face. "And you're the most cheerful and energetic person I've ever met."

"Have you ever heard of PMS?"

Benjamin let out a small laugh, before adding:

"You lost control of your strength and accidentally smashed a glass in your hand this morning."

"I'm a little clumsy sometimes," Emma lied again.

"You made a deal with our boss that you couldn't take night shifts on one specific day of the month and the following morning," she never assumed they'd notice that one detail. "Each one of these nights have Full Moons."

She raised her hands defeated. Ben didn't look scared or even upset. He didn't even show any surprise.

"Don't tell anyone. Please? I'll find another place to live. I just need some time."

"I can help you, Em."

"What?! Why?! Are you out of your mind? I have no control of myself. I'll kill you."

Benjamin sat on a chair and asked Emma to sit too, in front of him.

"West Virginia. My uncle. One night he was hunting in the woods, when he got bitten," he started telling. "At first we assumed it was an animal, but… after that he'd transform every Full Moon. We had to keep an eye on him, to prevent him from slaughtering people."

"And…" Emma stared into his eyes. "Is he cured now? Did you find a way to break the curse?"

"He went missing," Ben answered after a mournful pause. "Dead. Most likely. The neighbors started noticing something was off."

Emma swallowed dry. If she wasn't careful enough, that could be her fate too.

"Do you think anybody else noticed something is wrong about me?"

"No, I only noticed because I became familiar with the signs. But you should tell Jenna. She's at nursing school, she could help you with the tranquilizers."

And like that, her roommates became her 'Wolf Pack', as Emma liked to call them. They didn't mind covering her shifts or staying awake monitoring her werewolf form through the cameras they installed in the basement. A shotgun with silver shells was always prepared in case the worse scenario happened.

The mornings after her transformation were the worst. Emma would feel exhausted and sore. She'd spend hours under the shower, where she'd let her emotions flow. No one had seen her crying yet. All the time, she acted tough and confident. No one could tell there was something so traumatic going on in her life. But in the loneliness of the early hours of those mornings, she felt like a scared lonely child.

April, 2022

After months of agony and misery, everything seemed to be falling in place, but Emma still couldn't feel like herself. She'd still attempt to record videos as she used to do in the past. But it wasn't the same. Her venting always came back to the same subject. She couldn't even post that online - people would assume she had definitely lost her sanity. But at least it was a good kind of therapy.

Ben and Jenna were helping her with an extensive research, but she couldn't find any clues that lead to an explanation of why she was still infected.

"Ugh," she placed her laptop away from her. "Not even the detective I hired could find any information about Eliza and Silas Vorez. It's like they never existed."

"They were probably using fake names," Ben suggested. "The woman kept the guy caged like an animal. That's certainly illegal."

"We should try a psychic someday," Jenna said. "Do you think they'd know anything about werewolves?"

"I doubt it."

"The Deep Web?"

"Oh, no. Ben taught me how to access it and I found some very… disturbing stuff there."

"I warned you about the werewolf kink," Ben said, letting out a laugh.

"Please, don't say it again," Emma made a disgusted face. "I wish I could unsee it."

"Anyways, it's your birthday tonight and we should definitely go out to celebrate."

It was the first time Emma wasn't excited for her birthday. All the previous years she'd throw wild parties and crowd her house with friends. Now, she barely left the apartment. She was either working at the diner, researching werewolves and once in a while, she'd sign up for auditions. So far, her only work as an actress was a small internet ad she did to promote Addison's diner.

"Happy birthday to me," Emma spoke to her cell phone's camera later, when she was lying in bed. "I turned nineteen today. Yay!"

"It was different from my other birthdays. I didn't get so many messages or gifts. No wild parties either. No, crazy parties actually. I don't like the word 'wild' anymore, now it reminds me of…"

She didn't finish. It was always hard to say it aloud. Even to herself.

"I went out with Ben and Jenna to try to forget about… that thing . Sometimes I can allow myself to act like a normal girl and have some fun. I met some people during our night outs. Guys and girls too. But dating is not an option right now."

"I mean… how am I supposed to even squeeze a relationship among all this crazy shit that has been happening to me? I know some freaks have a werewolf kink but I bet they'd run away the second I burst into that bloody mess of a monster."

"There's one person though… nevermind."

She turned off the camera. The person she had in mind hadn't even called her yet. Not even to wish her a happy birthday.

June, 2022

It was the beginning of another Summer. Almost one year had passed since that last night at Summer Camp. Emma was on her lunch break when got a call from an unknown number. Her heart skipped a beat - she was expecting a call about an audition she had done a few days later. But she never imagined the voice on the other side of the line would ruin that little balance she was attempting to keep in her inner world.

"Emma? It's me, Abi."

"A-Abi?" The corners of her mouth curled up in a smile. "It's… uh… it's been a long time. How have you been?"

"I'm home from college and I was wondering if you'd like to hangout."

#the quarry #emma mountebank #abigail blyg #blygbank #emma x abi #emma x f!oc #the quarry fanfiction

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lenivyssenseoflevity · 2 years ago

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Second translation of one of my Rylan-One Shots!!!!!!!! WARNING: Contains Smut!

Now available! This is the english translation of probably my personal absolute favorite One Shot out of all the ones I've already written! So this One Shot is very special to me~ 🥰🤍🖤 I love this thematic so much with these two fools, bc I think it suits them~ So yeah, WARNING this One Shot also contains SMUT ergo explicit sexual content / mature content!!!!!!!!!!!!! Full one shot can be read and found on my AO3:

Or on my Wattpad:

Have fun reading it~

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fandommissingmoments · 2 years ago

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Physics Lessons (Dylan Lenivy)

Back home, Dylan had always found it easy to fall into the role of nerd. Sure, there had been times at school when he’d rather have figured out that he was good at anything else. Times when he hated that it was the frequency of radio transmission that stuck in his head, and not things that had larger followings to talk about. But summer camp changed all that. At Hackett’s Quarry he could be anyone he wanted to be. Nobody knew him, so if he decided he was going to be the funny man, he could take that plunge. If it failed, who cared? He’d never see those people again, and those that might have stayed in contact would be the good ones who wouldn’t care that he was a fulltime nerd as well as a funny man.

A week into camp, and Dylan thought he was doing well. Not once had somebody called him a nerd - at the very least, not in a malicious way. He laughed with Jacob even though back home he was the sort of jock he’d have avoided. He’d learnt to take the brashness of Kaitlyn on the chin because she was like that with everybody and not singling him out specifically. He’d even managed to speak to Ryan about a love of radio without coming on too strongly about the science behind it all, and the history that had been his obsession since childhood.

A young girl sat on the log near the fire pit. None of them were meant to be out, but he’d been tasked with the job of tracking down any wayward kids to make sure they were back in time for dinner. Emma had jumped at the chance to check the island with the treehouse, and that left him with the coast.

‘Hey,’ he said softly, hoping not to make the girl jump. She gave a start, but forced a small smile onto her face. The kind of smile he recognised as somebody trying to hide that they’d been upset. He tried desperately to remember her name. ‘You OK, Georgie?’

The girl nodded, the gesture slightly too much to be sincere, as she stood up.

Dylan shook his head and dropped to sit on the log beside her.

For a moment, he wondered if she might dash off back to the canteen herself. But, with a sigh far deeper than should have been possible for her, she dropped back to sit.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Prince was teasing me,’ she said, her attention on the toes of her shoes as she scuffed them in the dirt. ‘Said only nerds like physics.’

‘And there’s a problem with nerds?’ Dylan asked softly.

‘The way he said it there is,’ she grumbled, but he could see the tears glistening in her eyes. ‘I thought it’d be different here. But no. There’s…’ She looked at him quickly, a kid trying to find a word mean enough without swearing because she worried she’d get scolded for it.

‘Jerks?’ Dylan offered, before mentally berating himself. Mr. H had told them to be role models, that probably wasn’t the best way of doing that.

A small smile curled onto her face, and it made the comment worth it.

‘You know, cool people like physics too,’ he assured her.

‘Like who?’

Dylan took a breath, tried to school his features into something sincere enough that she’d understand he wasn’t just saying things to make her feel better. ‘I do.’

Georgie’s eyes widened dramatically. ‘You do?’

Dylan nodded, shifting on the log so that he was looking at her face on; she shifted to match him. ‘It’s how I got into the radio,’ he admitted. ‘But I wanted to be an astronaut when I was kid. So I tried to learn everything.’ He absently rubbed his jaw. ‘Radio kind of distracted me, though.’

‘Woah,’ she breathed, before her brow furrowed ever so slightly.

‘The only reason,’ he said, sensing where her thoughts had strayed to, ‘I’ve not done anything about it here, is because I thought people’d hate to think about school.’ He pulled a face, if only to gain a giggle from her.

‘But you would?’ Her eyes were bright, and Dylan wondered how anybody could have thought teasing her was a good thing to do. He made a note to tell Nick about it, to suggest that maybe Prince did some more sprints or something if his team lost. That was assuming Prince even liked the sports practice and wasn’t doing something else with his time.

‘If people want to learn, yeah. Now,’ he said, resting his hands on his knees and making a show of how difficult it was for him to stand, ‘I’m starving. Dinner?’

Georgie jumped up, the sadness of earlier seemed to have completely disappeared from her. Pride swelled in Dylan’s chest; perhaps if she could be brave enough to be herself at camp, he might find the courage to do the same eventually. But for now, having helped her with that was enough for him.

#Dylan Lenivy Fanfiction #The Quarry Fanfiction #Dylan Lenivy Missing Moments #The Quarry Missing Moments #Dylan Lenivy Headcanons #The Quarry Headcanons #Dylan Lenivy #The Quarry #Additional Character: Georgie

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queenofbaws · 1 year ago

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Like Wringing Blood From a Stone an Until Dawn/The Quarry fic by TheIcyQueen

“Jesus, Ma! What’re you doing, just sitting around in the dark like that? It’s the middle of the night!” In one smooth motion, Constance brought her crocheting and her eyebrows up. “Last I checked, it’s my house: I can sit wherever I damn well please whenever I damn well please.” She considered launching straight into that phone call, striking while the iron was hot, so to speak, and decided against it. Instead, she pushed the hook through the next stitch and continued her weaving. “You’re one to talk…sneaking around like some sort of—” And then, as though taking offense at how easily she’d shrugged it off before, the universe doubled down on its attempts to remind her just how old she was getting, how the years had finally begun to dull her sharp edges. Her crocheting slowed—but did not stop—as she got a look at him. A good look. “—why you wearin’ that uniform? I thought they had you workin’ days ‘til October.”

Chapter 21 now on AO3

#the quarry #the quarry fic #the quarry fanfiction #constance hackett #the hacketts #my fanfiction #queenie writes supermassive

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conspicuous-mending · 3 months ago

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When in Hackett's Quarry . . .

Kaitlyn Ka is alone in the woods, stalked by an armed killer. What would she do if she found this?

Find out in Return to The Quarry, available for read on Wattpad and Archive of our Own

#fanfiction #the quarry fanfiction #max brinly #laura kearney #kaitlyn ka #jacob custos #emma mountebank #abi blyg #abigail blyg #nick furcillo #ryan erzhaler #dylan lenivy #hackett's quarry #the quarry #the quarry fanfic #supermassive games #eliza vorez

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chocolatepeachsundae · 2 years ago

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I'm really shocked at the lack of love on Tumblr for our wonderful Camp Organizer, Chris Hackett.

I don't usually share any of my fanfictions as they're private. (So apologizing ahead of time for any errors in grammar and spelling.)

But I wanted to share this little prequal snippet of a one-shot I did for FemOC X Chris. I'd love any feedback/opinions and if you guys want me to share anymore...🤷🏻‍♀️

Lillian leant her chin on her palm, she watched the quiet waves of snow drift sway rhymeically onto the carpark. The white powder slowly seating itself onto the vegetation, giving the motel a cosy glow from inside.

The mug of English tea she cradled in her hands kept her fingers from the numbing cold. Steam reached up to her nostrils, a distant mumble of radio chatter kept her from sitting in absolute silence. She cherished these winter nights, the cold quietness that took over North kill.

*"A married New York couple who went missing while hiking Silver Point area have been found dead with multiple animal wounds, authorities say. The bodies of Stephen Reid, 67, and Djeswende Reid, 66, were discovered 6 months ago in a wooded ar~TZZK"

Static broke the newscaster off. Raising herself out the chair she walked over to the janky little portable system. It buzzed and groaned as she adjusted the antenna. There was a feeling that everything felt suddenly still, the snow blanketed any noise from the outside and for a moment... She felt herself zone out.

*"TZZK~Office has issued yellow warning of snow, ice and fog up and down Catskills area, which are expected to be ongoing until Thursd-" *

The abruptness caused her to jolt back to reality as her eyes fell onto the the snowy darkness. The glow of the open sign reflected a gentle blue glow across the white. The night sky a thick velvet blanket encompassing the motel. She made her way back to her desk.

*I should just lock up for the night and go upstairs*

As her hand reached down to open the desk draw in front of her, she noticed the light outside flicker, a flurry in the corner of her peripherals. Her head flicked around to catch it, but too slow. Figuring the bulb was nearly out, she ignored the pang of fear shooting up her chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lillian fumbled the keys into the apartment door, kicking the little lip of snow sitting on the metal stairway. Her body shuddered as she fought the creeping brisk air of winter trying to prise its way into the cracks of her scarf. Clouds of hot air billowed over her face, as the key gave way to it's lock mechanism, fluidly swinging the doot open to pull her inside. A clang of metal made her stop one foot in the doorway, she peered down at the large wheelie bins to see if she had been hearing raccoons again.

The industrial gate violently shook, the settled snow tumbling from its precarious perch ontop of the steel rods. Lillian head swiftly turned to face the noise in front of her. Pounding, her heart jumped into her throat as she quietly observed.

Heat rose through Lillian body, her cheeks glowing against the white blanket of snow surrounding her, all she could hear was the panicked thud of her pulse through her chest. Weighing her down into her feet, grounded in fear.

"Li-llian?" a weak trembled voice croaked from beyond the gate. Her eyes widened, she parted her lips to speak but only faint puffs of condensation trailed from her cold lips.

"Lillian... Its Chris... Can.. You let me in?" the figure behind the door shakily exclaimed. Immediately Lillian made her way down the stairs and turned to the gate.

*what is Chris doing out here?*

The gate swung open and Chris looked up at her with a relieved smile,weakly leant against the corner post. His Aviator jacket was half hanging off his left shoulder. There was mud smeared across his shins and knees, jeans slightly torn up showing beads of clotted blood formed in the fabric. Lillian stepped aside to let him in and he made his way up to the unlocked apartment above the tavern...

#chris hackett #the quarry #the quarry fanfic #hacketts quarry #hackett family #the quarry fandom #the quarry fanfiction #dont judge me too harshly haha #amateur fanfic #fem oc

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tumbleassbitch · 2 years ago

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another lost soul (letting my instinct take control) | The Quarry | TravisxLaura

Characters: Laura Kearney, Travis Hackett, The Hackett family Summary: Max dies in the cellar. This changes everything. Chapter 13/? | Chapter 12 | Chapter 1

It’s a werewolf.

Just like Travis said, its mottled skin gleams with a wet sheen. Long, crooked teeth jut out from its maw like shards of glass. Shrouded in dark, its eyes only appear with tapetum lucidum, but her mind fills in the blanks with ease.

It’s hard to piece together the splintered nightmare that was her first night in North Kill, but those eyes have always stuck with her. So pale, so empty.

The gaze was that of a creature completely bereft of life, and even now, her body itches with wrong, wrong, wrong—

It tilts its head with a quick jerk, almost as if to size them up. Before her brain can form a coherent thought, it drops from the roof with uncanny grace.

Those dead eyes, now lit up by the headlights, focus in on her.

“I thought you said the blood repels it?!” she asks shakily.

The werewolf takes one gnarled, clawed step towards her on all fours, and Travis blocks its path.

“Get in the car,” he commands sharply.

Even while crouched, its head almost comes up to Travis’ shoulders. He can’t seriously think he’ll hold up against that thing mano a mano. It’s like the skeletal structure of the host was laid out on a taffy puller. The thing has to be seven, no, eight feet tall.

“Travis,” she hisses.

It takes another step, and Travis mirrors its movements, dropping her bag.

“Laura, move,” he says again, keeping his eyes trained on the beast.

It leans into his space with a deep, open mouth sniff, and its pale eyes roll back into its shrink-wrapped skull. The sclera are as dark as rot.

“Why the fuck are you waiting for?!” she shouts. “Shoot!”

“For the love of god, woman!” he yells, not sparing her a look. “Move your ass!”

The strange peace that held the werewolf in place snaps, and it brushes past Travis with ease. Instinct directs her steps backwards. Even he seems to flounder for a moment, eyeing the placid walk of the werewolf with wide eyes, before raising the gun.

The first shot rings out like a thunder clap. The monster lets out an unholy screech that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but its gaze does not flinch from her. It rises like a marionette, gathering itself up on two spindly legs.

Her back hits the solid frame of the car. She reaches out blindly until her fingers latch onto the door handle, yanking it open and plunging to the floor of the backseat. Laura scrambles for the shotgun tucked neatly beneath the driver's seat, but it won’t budge.

“Shit,” she whispers under her breath. The fucking thing is stuck.

Another shot now cracks through the air, but she doesn’t have time to look as the werewolf screeches again. She tucks deeper into the car to get a firm grip on the shotgun, and It’s still not moving. Somewhere along their drive, it must’ve gotten knocked loose and is now wedged underneath the seat at an angle.

“Goddammit!” Travis yells. Another shot, another shriek. He’s unloading freely now.

She wiggles it desperately against the door and center console. Please. Inch by painful inch, the shotgun is finally freed and she rises at the ready, sliding the pump, only to freeze.

The glint of teeth looms in the car door. The werewolf’s head blocks out the light of the moon. Beneath the drying blood, its skin is mottled with pinpricks of darker spots. Like freckles.

It’s so close that they share the same breath. The scent of blood, of rust and something more pungent, is overwhelming. But beyond that—

It’s intoxicating. Shooting this creature feels wrong.

She shouldn’t even be holding a shotgun. An image comes to mind, then. It’s how she imagines her mother would’ve looked in her final moments, doe eyed and tear-stained.

I really need you to come home.

And then something insane happens: Travis launches himself onto its back. His pale, panic-stricken face looks almost cartoonish from under the werewolf’s arm.

“Go, Laura! Drive!”

The werewolf tosses him off like he weighs nothing more than a ragdoll, and his body hits the gravel with a heavy thud. Dimly, over the rush of blood through her ears, she can hear him grunt.

It feels like a bucket of ice is dropped on her. Sorry, mom.

Laura shoots. It’s a miracle that it was loaded. The werewolf staggers back in a burst of red spray, painting her and the interior of the car with blood.

“No!” Travis screams.

Laura slides the pump to shoot again, but there’s no need. With one last show of fury, the monster throws its head back in a guttural scream and bounds off, slipping into the night.

Gingerly, Laura crawls out of the car and peers around, taking in the scene. They haven’t been here for longer than a few minutes, and yet the ground is splattered with blood.

Travis breathes loudly from where he’s still sprawled on the ground, propped up on his elbows. She quickly crouches down beside him.

“Are you hurt?” Laura asks urgently.

“It… wasn’t loaded with silver,” he breathes out with a far-off look.

She touches the back of his head to check for blood, careful not to press too hard, and Travis finally looks at her, then.

His expression borders on feral. “What the fuck were you thinking?!” he shouts angrily, shoving her hands off of him.

She backs off, raising her eyebrows. “Travis, you need to calm down.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” he replies nastily.

Any concern she held for him immediately shrivels up and dies. “I’m letting that slide because you probably caved your skull in,” Laura retorts with a scowl. “I just saved your life, you asshat!”

“You didn’t. You put both of us at risk by blindly shooting out of a car—”

She huffs a laugh. “After you waited till it was drooling in my face. What the fuck took you so long?!”

“I was assessing the situation,” Travis declares. As if he isn’t spewing literal bullshit.

She shakes her head, looking around the driveway to double-check that it isn’t covered with his brain matter.

It’s not, which is a pity. It means he’s being a dumbass of his own volition.

“That’s a nice way to describe taking for fucking ever to pull the trigger,” she says heatedly, but then thinks better of it. He’s still lying on the gravel.

Stay calm. We need to get inside.

“Look, just say it. You froze,” Laura says, relenting in her anger. “So did I! It wasn’t until it threw you that—”

“They’re still people, Laura!” There's a wild look in his eyes, something akin to fear. It makes her blood run cold.

He didn’t have to say it like that. Of course they’re still people.

Laura stands up. “I know that.” Her voice comes out faint.

Travis’ face turns pleading. “If it isn’t Silas, shooting has to be a last resort.”

But isn’t Silas a person, too? a little voice whispers. She refuses to entertain that line of thought right now.

“That was our last resort,” Laura says. “Don’t tell me it wasn’t.”

She doesn’t shoot people. That’s not who she is.

“If it wanted to kill us, it could’ve done so in a heartbeat.” He looks off into the dark woods. “It must’ve been curious.”

“You said they wouldn’t come near us.”

“I said they wouldn’t hunt us,” Travis says quietly.

He watches her with a cautious edge. Maybe it’s still the adrenaline from earlier. Maybe it’s something else.

“...It came right up to me," Laura insists. She hates the way her voice hitches at the end.

“I know,” he says, not unkindly.

“Then stop looking at me like I’m a fucking murderer!” she snaps bitterly. The shotgun sits in her hand like an anchor. He raises his hands in surrender, but it only makes her angrier.

"God, you know what? I'm sick of this. Of all of this— this back and forth! I'm trying so hard, Travis, but it’s like nothing I do is ever worth the full story!”

He blanches, and something within her lights up viciously at this. “Working with you is like pulling nails out of a plank of wood. First it's locking me up without telling me anything, then it's locking me up when you're telling me things, and now it's the fucking werewolf blood!”

“I’m sorry,” Travis blurts. Gravel scrapes loudly beneath his shoes as he stands. He sounds as solemn and earnest as if delivering a eulogy. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Laura. I didn’t think about it, and I should’ve.”

When he steps within arm’s reach, she doesn’t give into the urge to retreat. This side of Travis never fails to make her weak. Even in her fury, she can’t help but drink in these vulnerable moments like they’re ambrosia.

“I’m sorry for all of it,” Travis avows.

The full moon looms over them as a stark reminder for everything between them. Everything they stand to risk, should they fail.

Laura swallows roughly. Any remaining spark she had left to fight burns out as quickly as it burst to life.

She holds out the shotgun. “Take it. You’ll need it tonight.”

It’s the best and only peace offering that she knows how to give. Still, Travis receives it as if it’s something precious.

When she keeps her palm open, obnoxiously wiggling her fingers, the sincerity of his face morphs into bafflement. The moment it clicks, he graces her with a long-suffering sigh, reaching into his pocket.

“The guest bedroom is on the second floor, first door on the left. If you need more pillows, there are some in the closet.”

She plucks the house key from his hand. Compared to the chill of the night, the metal holds a trace of warmth. It’s all from him.

“I’ll find it,” she says, swiping her bag from the gravel and moving onwards to the dark steps. “Don’t die tonight.”

Laura unlocks the door before he has a chance to say anything in turn. The house is dark, but she opts for her phone rather than fumble for the light switch.

She glides through the main floor like a ship in a cove, passing silhouettes of furniture and the faceless photos that will undoubtedly go under inspection at a later time. Not tonight.

Just as he said, the guest room is clean and relatively impersonal, and Laura doesn’t bother turning on the light before dropping her bag on the floor and making her way over to the grand window overlooking the road beyond.

It’s to keep an eye out for any stray shadows lurking outside, of course. And if her eyes track the set of headlights that vanish between the trees, well.

That’s just for her to know.

July 24th, 2022

“You sure you’re alright, boy?”

Jedediah Hackett is the spitting image of his father before him: piercing blue eyes, a strong square jaw. Hackett traits.

Travis inherited neither.

“Yes, Pa. You know how it is. There ain’t nothing to be worried about.”

His father’s glower fills him with boyish dread, but graciously, he lets the question lie. “Come by sometime soon. Your ma’s likely been itching a storm to speak with you ‘bout yesterday.”

The last thing he wants to do is drop by the family home and get a tongue lashing in person, especially after yesterday’s phone call, but if he waits too long, she’s bound to blow her lid.

Constance Grady Hackett has the incessant need to be involved in every person’s life. It’s to the degree that if she doesn’t know what you ate that morning, you were likely sucking in the giggle smoke with the loose part of town and didn’t want word to get around.

His best chance at having this blow over is to come by tomorrow, at the very latest. It gives himself a chance to freshen up, and hopefully, the worst of her mood will have left by then. Ma is fickle like that— peace and wrath come in like waves, but his first duty in life was to know how to outlast them. This latest fit is no different.

Travis nods brusquely. “Course.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout the boy, we’ll be giving Caleb a talking to. Lord knows when that rat drags himself back home, he’s in for a world of trouble.”

Jedediah takes his leave without another word. Despite being in his eighties, the man still walks with his back straight and chin held high, and some of the pressure in Travis’ chest releases now that those faded eyes aren’t leering at him.

Bobby waves from beside their dad’s ancient Jeep, and Travis returns it mutedly. It’s a miracle that neither of them noticed the spatter of werewolf blood on the cruiser.

Just like their father, his brother barely spoke a word to him all night. Aside from lamenting that Caleb snuck out for the second time in a year, the entire hunt was stalked by loaded glances and smothered silence.

Travis couldn’t acknowledge it. Doubling down on a lie without being asked would just raise more suspicion, and casual conversation was off the table, so silence it was. After the past few days he’s had, the dead air felt unnatural. It still does.

Travis disappears inside the precinct and makes the slog over to the janitor’s closet, plucking out a dry cloth and bucket. It’s time to clean up his nephew’s mess.

The bucket is unceremoniously emptied on blood splatter, and some of it spills over his hands. It’s freezing to the touch, but he feels the cold as if he’s only reading about it, like he’s not really there. Somewhere along the past several hours, he’s stopped feeling much of anything.

Seventy-two full moons. It’s been seventy-two full moons of skulking in the dark with a pocket full of shotgun shells, and last night was the one that almost ruined everything.

He promised to keep her safe.

They’ve never been tracked under the cover of blood. Ever. And last night, Caleb acted like he barely noticed anything other than the flash of gold hair. It's like the werewolf was hypnotized by her.

And the worst part, the part that Travis will take to his very grave, is that this was the second time he’s seen that reaction.

When Laura Kearney burst into his life under a shower of blood, Travis didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. There wasn’t time to wonder why the thing that became his brother hadn’t eviscerated her before he made it down the stairs.

It’s not like his family hasn’t claimed more than one meal in a night: Caleb and the two hikers from Albany, Kaylee and that family of three from Saratoga Springs.

No, he figured it was by sheer luck, and the fact that her boyfriend had just been made a meal, that the poor girl was still in one piece. And like a fool, it hasn’t crossed his mind since.

Not until last night.

“Fuck it all to hell,” Travis mumbles, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn fleck.

When he carried her small frame back up those cellar steps, it was with an oath that his family’s carnage would end there. The idea had always been that she'd be kept safe and squared away at the station. It was never meant to come to this, face to face with goddamn Caleb of all monsters.

But this turn of events had always been inevitable, hadn’t it? That's always been the story for Travis Hackett. With a woman like her, it was bound to get bathed with blood yet again.

That’s just who Laura is. She’s voracious. There’s a hunger in those eyes that no amount of pretty smiles or hair twirling can soften.

He’s seen it before in the eyes of his family moments before they turn. It’s the appetite of a predator on the verge of peeling back skin, sharpening her claws to poke and prod at the gore that lies beneath.

It’s in those moments that he’s reminded of who she is. After all, she’s attached to one of the worst household names in upstate New York: Scott Brandt.

The disgraced army sniper who played target practice with civilians for years before he was discovered. A deranged psychopath who viewed human life as nothing more than points to score in his cruel game.

And somehow, his only daughter made her way over to North Kill.

Nothing goes past her. And if she finds out he lied about the blood, then it’s only a matter of time—

Travis wrings out the rag, sprinkling the ground with tainted water. She'll never know.

She doesn't need to. The truth would do nothing but destroy the fragile chance they have at ending his family’s purgatory, and it’s not like it’s far from the truth. It was Silas who started all of this.

Why should it matter which werewolf took her boyfriend’s life when it all stems from one person? And in any case, why should the hunt matter if they can finally end this without any more blood on their hands?

He dumps the rest of the bucket and stuffs it with the rag in the trunk to wash later at home. Travis slump into the driver’s seat. He’s going to drive back to the cabin, crawl into bed with a bottle of bourbon, and block out the world until it comes knocking on his door.

Except, his fingers refuse to turn the key. He can’t.

He can’t tell her the truth. It’s too late. And, he can’t help but think, it would hurt her. She’s already been put through enough. She’s good people, and the last thing he wants to do is add onto the pile of shit any more than he already has.

Where’d you learn to shoot?

It doesn’t matter.

Travis turns the ignition on. Nothing good is coming from just sitting here like a fuckwit. He needs to get back home and do something.

That’s the problem, isn’t it? If he’d just done more, used his brain for things other than cover-ups, then maybe none of this would be an issue and Kearney never would’ve been tied into this mess.

Hell, they just found proof of a cure carved in stone, right there, under his nose for years. All this time, they’ve been searching for a wisp of air when the answer to their problems was in his old college town of all places.

He’s a fucking moron. Hopeless.

You deserve better.

“Stop,” Travis commands in the empty space. The faintest trace of her body wash lingers in the air.

He blasts the radio while he drives, switching the channel from classic rock to something that's more neutral ground. It’s still early by the general public standards when he gets home, barely six o’clock, which means Laura is likely still asleep.

Exhaustedly, he sprays down the driveway till the leftover blood from last night’s shootout is long washed away. Travis digs out the spare key from the patch of dirt that used to double as a garden, back when he had the time and will to maintain it, and braces for whatever lies on the other side of the door.

The house is quiet. He crosses the threshold, careful to avoid the creaky floorboard in the entrance, and tries to imagine what someone else might see at first glance.

It’s not dirty, though perhaps it could be better. The dust-coated beer steins on the cabinets haven’t been cleaned since their inaugural placement. The faded checkered towels hanging in the kitchen have outlasted two washing machines.

Definitely outdated, he muses, eyeing the dark couch and loveseat. At least those match, having been bought as part of a larger set back in the day. Amelia helped him pick them out.

All of this has Amelia’s touch. The entire downstairs, which she insisted needed to look welcoming for all of the guests he’d never have, is a time capsule back to when his sister-in-law still walked this earth.

What would Amelia say if she knew what happened to her kids?

Travis physically pulls himself out of that train of thought by dragging himself up the stairs, mindlessly going through the steps of his post-full moon routine. It isn’t until he’s brushing his wet hair back with one hand, the other poised to open the bedroom door, that it fully hits him.

There’s a woman sleeping in his house.

Not a woman, but Laura, he automatically corrects. Honing in on the fact that she’s a woman implies something else, which is fucking asinine. The most important part of that sentence is that she’s Laura.

Besides, the fact that she’s sleeping two doors down is not nearly as substantial as sharing a room together. Which they did, twice. Not to mention that he’s seen her—

“Shit,” he hisses, rubbing his shoulder after slamming it against the door frame. The sooner he gets in bed, the quicker he can shut off his brain.

Though, can he fall asleep right away? While he just pulled an all-nighter, it’s not like Kearney suffered the same fate. With her track record, she’ll be slipping her grubby fingers into every nook and cranny of his home the moment he passes out.

Travis looks forlornly at his bed. And yet, the thought of someone as stubborn and obnoxious as her having free reign of his personal space is mildly terrifying.

She’s likely already snooped, knowing her. But if he stays up, he can ideally prolong anything further until they can get this sorted out. The precinct is still an option; the better option, really.

He’s under no illusion about its habitability, but with a little bit of time, he could find some things to make the space more comfortable. Like he should’ve done in the beginning.

He hangs his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Great. If he’s going to stay up, then he might as well spend it making his life more bearable.

Travis ditches his bathrobe for a loose pair of jeans and practical button-up, making his way to the kitchen. The search in his cabinets is ridiculously high effort, but under the ancient stack of cookie cutters and a waffle iron, he finds it.

For the first time in years, it’s time to break out the casserole dish.

Honestly, he deserves some actual food after the shitshow that last night was, and besides; it’s going to be at least an hour till Kearney wakes up, following their typical routine.

The eggs are from the family down the road, and the block of cheddar in the dairy drawer is probably not too old. Now, is it two cups of flour, or pieces of old bread for the base…?

Years ago, before he ever left for college, Ma used to make this for Christmas morning. She’d use the red glazed dish that was reserved for special events, and let it settle in the fridge overnight.

But when he got his college acceptance letter, she made it for Saturday breakfast to celebrate and he can still taste the comforting spice of the sausage and cheeses mixed with the egg.

It was sheer bliss. That’s what he wants to eat today, and by god, he’ll figure it out.

Travis whips together the foundational pieces as much as he can, and though it won’t have time to sit like it’s supposed to, it’s bound to taste good enough. Satisfied, he grabs the morning paper and settles in.

It’s when he’s in the middle of pouring his second cup of coffee, splash of bourbon purely optional, when a car door slams outside.

For a brief, selfish moment, he considers ignoring it to hoard this moment for himself. But a look around the room of faded decor, of memories and plans left behind, leaves no choice. It’s not the reminder he wants, but it’s the reminder he needs.

Travis opens the door to a mildly stunned Kaylee. Her fist is raised in a frozen knock, and sheepishly, she tucks it in her sweatshirt.

The night after a transformation is akin to a hangover, apparently, and she looks like she just got back from a night on the Vegas strip. The redness around her eyes and nose suggest there’s a bit more to that than magical bullshit, however.

“I didn’t really think you’d be awake,” she says meekly.

Travis rolls his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

It comes out sharper than he intended, judging by her wince. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call you back.”

“It’s fine, Kay,” he says meaningfully, though that’s not the reason she came. He knows where this is going.

Kaylee fidgets on his porch. “Um, I came here because… I need to talk to you about something.”

Typically, this is where he’d offer for her to come inside. But with a certain blonde on the premises, he can only nod in what’s hopefully an encouraging gesture.

“So, with camp ending and the new round not starting ‘till tomorrow, Caleb stayed outta the cage last night,” she says quickly.

“Really,” he deadpans.

“I know he shouldn’t have done it and I told him as much, but you know how he is! I swear I didn’t know till I was already shut in.”

Her eyes begin to water. “He’s been wanting a night to roam for months now, despite all of our mess. But when he got back to the house this morning, he said it felt like— like he’d been shot.”

Kaylee gasps out a sob, and out of reflex, he reaches out. She doesn’t seem to notice through her panic.

“I’m really freaked out, T! What if he got someone else last night? Or what if it was a hunter? Maybe someone finally figured it out, and they’re after us and everything is ruined, and it’s my fault because I destroyed our lives—!”

Travis pulls her in and she crumples against his chest, sobbing silently. He wraps an arm around her shaking shoulders, gently holding her there, and thinks.

After the worst of her shaking subsides, he quietly murmurs over her head, “Does anyone else know?”

Kaylee rocks her head back and forth against his chest. “No. I didn’t even tell him I was coming to you. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t blame you,” for this, “but let’s keep it between us. Hell, there might’ve been nothing. All of you have been telling me for years now how hard the transformation is.”

“It’s ain’t nice, but I didn’t wake up feeling like I was shot,” her muffled voice sounds unconvinced.

“Maybe a night out had its own negative effects,” he offers easily. “Maybe he took a fall somewhere in the night and is still feeling the aftereffects.”

She pulls back, and he allows her a moment to compose herself. “Look, Kaylee. There’s no use in telling the others.”

“But what about the state ecological services?” she asks miserably. “Isn’t Jess looking for signs of bears?”

“I’ll look into it and keep you updated with what I find, but if you go off and tell your dad, we’ll have a witch hunt on our hands.”

Given the resigned look in her eyes, Kaylee understands all too well. Chris will panic, sending everyone into a frenzy, and Travis will be sentenced to wandering this hellscape until he finds some unlucky bastard in camo who only wanted a new set of antlers.

No one wins.

But if they play their cards right, this too will blow over and he and Kearney can get back to finding his family’s redemption.

“Okay,” his niece says finally, but any uncertainty in her voice is overshadowed by the pure faith in her eyes.

Kaylee trusts him to do the right thing. Maybe she doesn’t know the full truth, but if she did, she’d know that their family has never been in better hands.

And Travis’ faith rests in those hands, too.

The last time Laura’s seen this brand of shampoo, it was in her mom’s closet a good decade ago, at least.

Travis’ guest bathroom is coated in a light layer of dust and curiously outdated bath supplies, which is perhaps the only thing she could’ve guessed right. It’s a comfort. She’s not sure what she’d do if it turned out Travis had a thriving social life.

The hot water is grounding, and Laura soaks up the comforting sensation as much as she can to ignore the fact that she’s floundering. The situation didn’t quite hit her in lieu of fending off an actual werewolf, but faced with the aftermath this morning, it feels like she’s been hit by a train.

Travis Hackett’s house is nice.

Sure, it’s outdated, but it’s larger than what she grew up with in terms of sheer space. Her childhood bedroom was half the size of this barely-furnished guest room, and judging by the space of kitchen and living room downstairs, the master bedroom has to be pretty sizable.

There’s an obvious rustic choice in decor, though something tells her it’s not so much intentional as it is the age of things. Still, all of it meshes together to create an atmosphere that’s warm and endearing.

Which brings last night into such a dire contrast. Who was that werewolf, and why weren’t they locked up? If the Hacketts host the few that they know are bitten, then could this be proof that Silas has been near the area recently?

It could’ve happened last month, she muses while drying off. Realistically, they might not have even known they were infected till last night, which means they’re probably waking up feeling like they had the worst blackout.

If those shotgun shells had been full of silver, they’d be dead. Their last moments would’ve been spent in confusion and agony.

She’s not sure how she feels about that. What she should feel, more like. Travis’ scream plays through her mind on repeat, and he can still clearly see the look on his face. Shock, uncertainty. Fear.

She can almost feel dread take root in her stomach. Laura swore that no one would ever look at her that way, that she’d never give them a reason to. But obviously, things have changed.

It’s not as big of a deal as either of them are making it. What was she supposed to do, let them be eaten? Firing a gun, a shotgun, was honestly their only option and though it won’t be her first choice, she’d absolutely do it again if it came down to it.

Especially with Silas.

The faint sound of a kitchen timer rings up the stairs, and Laura pauses, listening for footsteps. There’s no movement, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She slips on her sleep shirt to sneak back to the guest bedroom, but there it is again. Beep beep.

Alarm spikes in the back of her brain. What if it isn’t a kitchen timer? What if Travis was somehow injured during the hunt and he’s trying to get her attention?

With a fucking stove timer? the rational part of her mind pushes back, but it’s too late. Laura creeps down the stairs, halfway expecting to find his bloodied handprints on the wooden railing like a scene from a horror movie, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

In fact, there appears to be no one.

The timer rings again, and she quickly patters over to the kitchen with bare feet and shuts it off. Travis… baked something?

Cracking the oven door open releases a diving plume of cheese and meat; it’s the kind of breakfast that leaves regret in its wake, but is still totally worth it. Laura gives the kitchen a once-over for something to pull the dish out, feeling more than ever like a fish on the highway, till she finally just uses the old hand towels and turns the oven off.

Breakfast is served, but where’s the cook?

A full mug of coffee is out on the counter, still steaming. She takes a hesitant whiff of it and yup, that’s his. Bourbon always seems to be close at hand for him.

She cautiously walks into the living room and takes it all in— the checkered blanket folded neatly in a basket by the modest TV, a stack of expired sports magazines on the ottoman, a wooden bear figurine on the mantle.

A small framed photo on the side table catches her eye. It’s Travis, a good twenty years younger, with a few faces she doesn’t recognize. The man standing beside him has to be one of his brothers. Chris, she assumes, given the heavily-pregnant woman on his arm and the little boy beside their legs.

If Kaylee’s mom died during her childbirth, then this must be one of the last happy photos of them all together. The photo next to it is smaller, wrapped in a gaudy gold frame like it's meant to make up for it. This one looks more like an oil painting of an old, angry man; actually, it is.

Okay, weird, she thinks, but a muted pair of voices outside beckons her over to the door. She’s not tall enough to see through the upper glazing, but if she gets on the stairwell…

Laura’s halfway up the stairs, peering over the banister, when the front door swings open without ceremony.

Kaylee, of all the people to be on the other side of the door, is in the middle of walking away when she does a double-take.

"Take it easy," Travis says over his shoulder, then turns and immediately locks onto Laura.

Two sets of wide eyes peer up at her. For a moment, no one speaks. She manages to squeak out a shocked, “Uh,” before Travis slips through the crack and slams the door behind him.

Kaylee's muffled shriek of, "Oh my god!" floats between them like the sad lone feather of a plucked chicken.

"Where the fuck are your pants?!" he furiously whispers with an accusatory point.

“When the fuck were you going to tell me Kaylee was here?” she hisses back.

They both ignore the frantic knocking at the door.

“You were—!” Travis looks like he’s about to have an aneurism. “Go. Go upstairs and get dressed, would you please.”

Laura tugs on the hem, despite her sleep shirt being far longer than some of her dresses. As if he’s just now hearing himself, he quickly turns his back as she scampers up the stairs, shoving her back against the bedroom door when it shuts.

Shitshitshit— Laura covers her face, trying to process what just happened. Kaylee’s here. She’s here and she definitely saw her in Travis’ house. In the morning.

Like the morning after, she thinks hysterically, except this is the I Shot a Paranormal Creature-kind of morning after.

What are they going to do?

Numbly, Laura slips on a pair of pants and bra and makes her way downstairs, feeling all too much like she’s doing the walk of shame. She’s barely left the last step when Kaylee engulfs her in a hug. The touch practically makes her melt, and it ends sooner than she’d like for it to.

“Hi!” The heady flush of Kaylee’s skin makes her eyes seem lighter. “Sorry, just, it’s been a while and things felt kinda weird. If I'd known about you guys…”

Laura’s eyes dart over to where Travis has taken camp near the fireplace, idly massaging his temples. His brows raise as if to say, This is on you.

“We’re sorry for keeping it a secret,” Laura says stiltedly, still not quite believing the route this is going. “Uh, but I’m glad you stopped by. I missed having you around.”

“Apparently not too much,” Kaylee says with a snort.

Travis lets out a soft grunt in disapproval, looking away. “Listen, would you—?”

“Keep it a secret, yeah. I wouldn’t dream of it,” she says, donning an impish grin. “If I told anyone, they’d never leave me alone. It definitely explains why you wanted to keep Jess all to yourself.”

"Kaylee," Travis protests weakly.

"You could've told me,” Kaylee insists. "’Sides, I think it's really sweet! I think my eighth grade science teacher was married to a guy who was a decade younger than her."

"Thank you… for your support," Laura says lamely, but she can't help feeling like everything's going to be fine. God, she didn't realize how much she missed Kaylee, but now that the other girl is nearby, the embarrassment of the whole situation starts to fade.

Honestly, this is probably for the best.

Travis seems to clue in on her relatively satisfied demeanor, because he shoots her a particularly ugly look.

"I’ll see you tomorrow at the precinct,” he says to Kaylee.

“Totally,” she says with a cheeky smile. “And I get that this is your way of kicking me out, now, so I’m going to go home before dad puts me to work in getting camp ready for the next batch of campers and—”

“Kaylee,” Travis practically begs.

Kaylee raises her hands in surrender, amusement playing on her face. “I’m going, I’m going!” She practically skips to the door, blurting out, “Have fun!” before leaving.

It’s like the aftermath of a hurricane.

Travis sighs, looking around the room with an unreadable expression before wearily stepping into the kitchen. Wordlessly, he studies the breakfast casserole before sticking a fork in it.

“Breakfast is served,” he announces lacklusterly.

She joins him at the counter as he produces a half-full bottle of bourbon and pours a shot in his mug. For a moment, he considers her.

“Coffee?” He raises the bottle.

“Definitely,” she says.

#another lost soul #the quarry fanfiction #the quarry #travis hackett #laura kearney #hackearney #travis hackett x laura kearney #my writing #kaylee hackett

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hackearneyexchange · 2 years ago

Text

Story Reveals #1

Heavy is the Crown for @midnightanddiamonds

Rating: Teen Archive Warning: None

It’s amusing, if not completely surreal, to watch him set up the hair products in a row like soldiers. He marches away with the tub and reappears with the sound of sloshing water.

“Wow."

Travis scrutinizes her with narrowed eyes. He must decide she isn't mocking him because the corners of his mouth turn down in a self-deprecatory smirk.

“I take my job seriously.”

Request: A few days after losing her eye in the jail, Laura struggles to put her hair up post-shower. Travis sees her pain and frustration, so offers to help her.

Easy as (Moon) Pie for @pixie-mask

Rating: Teen Archive Warning: None

Laura is the head baker at Hackett's Sweets, the local main-stay bakery. She works with her close friend Max and other friendly people making delectable confectionaries. But the owner's brother, the Sheriff, supposedly has the hots for her, according to Max. She isn't so sure, but she does admit that the grumpy cop is easy on the eyes.

But one day, the new competitor in town, Eliza Vorez, comes into the shop to tell them she's hosting another one of her Full Moon Festivals. Her boss wants her and the handsome grump to "investigate".

Pardon All My Precious Scars for @spookyscaryscully

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Hackearney Fic Exchange Prompt -- Prologue redone where Laura goes to Hacketts Quarry by herself (Max and her are just friends). And after the crash she finds herself very interested in a certain sheriff (T- E kind of rating 👀).

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A retelling of the prologue, as well as a month into camp... and a tiny snippet of an epilogue at the end. :)

You do science for @absenthearted

Rating: Teen Archive Warning: None

Laura doesn’t know what the Sheriff’s plan is but she is willing to help. As much as it’s possible.

Body and Soul for @hazlethings

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning/Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dubious Consent

Laura Kearney is getting better. Admittedly in a roundabout way; that way being, coercing her kidnapper, turned ally into hunting anything and everything that goes bump in the night. She’s good at it - so good, a job she couldn’t possibly refuse lands in her lap. A week to rid a rundown mansion on the haunting shores of the Finger Lakes of its surly specter, but Laura and Travis get much more than either could have ever bargained for.

#hackearney #travis x laura #travis hackett #laura kearney #hackearney fic exchange #story reveals #the quarry #the quarry fanfiction

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be-side-my-self · 1 year ago

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Chapter 2: Harvest Festival

Some more about some Side Characters & Travis and Laura meeting at the Harvest Festival/County Fair because of course they do.

Chapter 3: An outsiders perspective

A chapter from the perspective of one of the deputies.

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A few years after what happened at Hacketts Quarry, Laura is working at the veterinarian clinic in North Kill, creating something like a future for herself. Laura is now in North Kill for more than a year, her relationship with Travis has become a lot better and it’s time for the Harvest festival again, this time even with a fair attached, the first time after the fire of Harum Scarum.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/M Fandom: The Quarry (Video Game) Relationship: Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney Characters: Travis Hackett; Laura Kearney; Original Characters Additional Tags: Slow Burn; slow slow burn; Pre-Relationship; idk if this even still pre-relationship? They are pretty much in a relationship; Implied/Referenced Abuse; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; Mutual Attraction; They are attracted to each other and not ready to admit it; Older Man/Younger Woman; Lots of Original Characters - Freeform; they are basically on a date; fair grounds; Laura has anger issues; Bad Puns; more tags will be added; ACAB; Not Beta Read; Cooking; Food; conversation driven; Language: English

#Hackearney #Fanfiction #The Quarry Fanfiction #Travis Hackett x Laura Kearney #Two more chapters for you #The Quarry Game #For everyone who is not into Hackearney I suggest to block the tag

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emma-nation · 1 year ago

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The Curse Of Hackett's Quarry

Chapter 1 - The Tower

Notes: Set in an Alternate Universe where Emma was bitten by Silas. In this fic all the counselors are alive and all the Hackett's are dead. Pairings are Emma/Abi and Emma/f!OC.

Notes²: English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes. This is my first The Quarry fic and also my first Werewolf fic, I hope you guys enjoy it. Like Emma says herself - 'Sub, share and smash that like button. The holy trinity.'

Full Story:

The Tower represents a massive change - destruction and chaos, a personal transformation. The awakening of something new.

August, 2021

At the police station, Emma observed a tarot card inside an evidence bag that was collected from Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp. The last three days had been a blur.

When the police cars arrived in the morning, she assumed everything would be okay. She was finally going home and then college. That traumatic night would become a distant memory.

But then she left Mr. H's office and saw that corpse in the lodge. It was not a monster. It did not look like a monster. That was… Caleb Hackett. In that moment, she knew they were in trouble.

"I… I'm not a murderer," she said once she was being taken to the back of a police car. "We were attacked."

The police officer did not answer.

She and Abi were locked in the same holding cell. Abi was very distressed. She could barely breathe. At some point, she went to the toilet and vomited.

"It'll be okay, Abi," Emma placed a hand on her shoulder, in an attempt to bring her some relief. "They will only ask us a few questions. And then, we're going home."

"Emma, stop," the girl pushed her hand away and stood up, taking a few anxious steps around their enclosure.

"Do you realize that was a teenage boy that was lying dead in that lodge?! Do you think they'll even believe us when we tell werewolves attacked us?!"

Emma swallowed dry. Yes, she was being ridiculous. Their situation wasn't good at all. But she had to believe that. She couldn't let that optimistic side of her die. Not yet. Otherwise she'd break.

They called her for an interrogation by the nighttime. At least she was allowed to shower and change her clothes before. She was also given a meal, but she declined. Even if she hadn't eaten for over 24 hours, she wasn't hungry.

"And that's what happened," Emma finished, after telling everything she could remember about that night.

"Werewolves?"

"Yes. I have a picture on my phone. It was taken as evidence when I arrived, but you can check…"

The officer didn't say anything. Emma stopped talking.

"Ms. Montebank, did you have a relationship with… she checked a paper for information, "Mr. Jacob Custos?"

"Yes. No! I mean… we had a Summer fling, but I broke up with him before all of that."

"So you did not consent when he sabotaged the van to spend one more night with you in the Summer Camp?"

The revelation caught her by surprise. Emma felt a knot in her stomach. She really thought Jacob was acting strange but she didn't want to assume he'd go that far.

"H-He did what ?!"

She returned to the cell, unable to process what she heard. Abi was lying on the bed, facing the wall. She wasn't sleeping, but she didn't feel like talking.

Emma was called back to the interrogation room. Being a lawyer himself, her father had contacts and hired one of the best attorneys in the country.

"So, you did not shoot any of the Hacketts?" He asked.

"No."

In fact, she only learned all the other members of Hackett's family were dead when she was taken to the precinct.

"Then why were your fingerprints on the gun?"

"I took it from Mr. Hackett's storage."

"Why did you take it, Emma?"

"To be honest, I don't know."

Staring at that tarot card, made Emma reflect about her future. She had just signed the papers of her release, after the group was declared innocent of the accusation of murder and didn't know what to expect. Would she be able to recover from that traumatic experience? Would the rest of the world believe that absurd story about werewolves? She definitely wouldn't, if she had seen it for herself.

She didn't see any of her friends while being escorted outside by her parents, which was good somehow. She didn't want to face Jacob yet. She'd certainly punch him and yell at him, what would bring her even more problems. She wished she had seen Abi though, but she was already gone. Emma feared she blamed her somehow, for what Jacob did.

As long as she remembered, Emma always felt comfortable being in front of cameras. Ever since she was a kid, she loved being captured through videos and photos. She was a true actress from birth.

Now, she was learning to hate them. As soon as she left the station, journalists were waiting, shoving microphones on her face, asking inappropriate questions and taking unwanted pictures of her release.

"Ms. Montebank, would you mind saying a few words about the incident?"

"I can't," she attempted to cover her head using her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Emma, is it true you and your friends were under the influence of drugs?"

"Ms. Montebank?!"

"Emma! Emma!"

They didn't stop and the police officers didn't make any efforts to stop them. A few journalists chased her parents' car. Later, they found out their address, staying in front of their house waiting for answers during the next few days.

The journalists weren't the only problem. When Emma finally gathered enough courage to check her social media, she found out she had gained a ton of new followers. Her videos were also bombarded with all kinds of comments - most of them were negative. Sarcastic. Evil. Bits of her videos were taken out of context and each one of her words, each one of her actions were analyzed, misinterpreted and judged.

That was when she decided to deactivate her account. At least for a while. All that fuss couldn't last forever.

At home, her relationship with her parents had been wrecked too. While they believed her innocence, they seemed resentful, disappointed. Maybe because none of them was allowed a normal life anymore. Her parents wouldn't have a moment of peace even during their work hours.

Emma would spend most of her time locked in the bedroom and her 10 years old sister was the only one who bothered to check on her every once in a while.

"Hey, princess," she smiled when the girl appeared in the bedroom, shortly after her arrival. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Em," Olivia Mountebank wrapped her arms around her neck. "I'm so glad you're here."

'Me too,' Emma thought without saying it aloud. While she was fighting for her life that night, her little sister was the person who mostly crossed her mind.

"I believe you. About the werewolves."

"It… it means a lot."

She smiled, attempting to fight the tears that started filling her eyes. She hadn't been able to cry yet. That was the first time.

September, 2021

After two weeks, Emma decided it was time to recompose herself and try to move on with her life. Keeping her mind busy would help her to deal with that whole traumatic experience. She finally started attending classes at NYU and moved to the dorm.

She didn't expect it to be easy. The looks and whispers would follow her anywhere she went. In the better days, people would just ignore her existence.

"Give it some time," Kaitlyn said when they spoke over the phone. She was the only one of the group who called her. Abi hadn't been answering any of them yet. "People will eventually forget about it."

And that was what Emma was trying to do, but on that particular morning of September 20, she woke up feeling awful. At first it was only her chest exploding in anxiety. After an hour or so, she noticed her skin felt like it was on fire. Her body temperature was abnormally high.

"What that bitch is doing?" Somehow, she could hear the conversation between her roommates, while she had been sitting under the cold shower. "She has been there for like two hours."

"Maybe she's doing drugs again."

"I hope she didn't kill herself. It'll bring journalists to the campus all over again."

They giggled. And their laughs sounded extremely loud. Emma's ears started to ring in response. She covered them with her hands to muffle the sound.

Once the girls left, she wore some clothes and headed to the student health center.

"Your temperature is a little bit high, Ms. Montebank," the female doctor examined her. "But it doesn't seem to be anything serious."

"I-I also feel nauseous and… my chest hurts."

"You've been under a lot of stress. I'll prescribe you some tranquilizers."

She asked Emma to return in case her symptoms worsened. After buying the medication, she returned to the dorm and slept.

Her dreams were tormented by memories from that night. She was in the woods all over again, being chased by one of those creatures. This one was different from the others, its skin was much more pale. It seemed stronger and faster somehow. Emma was able to escape. It was only when she was safe inside Chris Hackett's office with Abi that she felt her leg stinging. She didn't say anything. She didn't want to scare her friend. The wound wasn't even deep, more like a scratch. It was also clean, showing no signs the infection was spreading through her bloodstream. When the morning came and she hadn't transformed, she considered herself lucky.

Emma woke up past lunch time. Her body was aching and her head felt a little foggy. She went to the bathroom to wash her face, but once she stared at her reflection in the mirror she let out a scream.

Her eyes had turned yellow.

"It can't be," Emma took a deep breath while she drove around the streets. "It can't be!"

Nick returned to normal after Caleb Hackett was killed. So did Ryan, Laura and Max after shooting Chris.

She later heard the story about a man named Silas, who was rumored to be the one werewolf to infect the Hackett's. But he was also shot to death by Ryan and Laura.

There was absolutely no way that could be happening.

Emma wore shades before entering into the store. Rope. She had to buy rope before heading to the woods.

"Just in case," she told herself. "Because nothing will happen tonight. It's only… stress. I'm very very stressed."

Along the rope, she bought some other supplies and drove to the park. She waited until it was completely empty before she restrained herself around a tree. She feared she could escape once she transformed. If she transformed. But the creatures didn't appear to be that strong or smart. Back to the camp, the hunters caught them in regular and simple traps.

As the night started to fall, her skin started to turn gray. She also felt her teeth becoming sharp.

"Fuck."

It was really happening. And no one was there for her. When the Hackett's transformed, they had each other. When Max transformed, he had Laura. When Nick transformed he had Abi.

Abi. She wished Abi was there. Sweet, shy and insecure Abi. If only she was answering her calls.

WHY wasn't she answering her calls? Emma started feeling angry. She had done NOTHING wrong!

Maybe that was him … Jacob. He had manipulated Abi's mind against her. Of course.

That was all Jacob's fault in first place. If only he had respected her when she said no. If only he wasn't so toxic, obsessive and childish.

The thoughts were becoming too much to handle and Emma resorted to the only thing that could bring her some comfort. She positioned the camera of her cell phone in front of her and started to film.

"September 20, 2021 - 7 PM. It's… uh… it's my first night," her feelings of rage were replaced by fear and anxiety. Some tears started to roll across her cheeks.

"I'm scared. And lonely. I wish… I wish Abi was here. Or even Kaitlyn. S-She is always so brave…"

"Or Dylan. I'd… I'd love to hear one of his awful jokes right now."

God. She missed them terribly.

"Y-You've won, Jacob. Karma has found me! This is the price I'm paying for breaking your heart. I hope you're happy now, motherfucker."

Her conscious was being replaced by something else. Something wild. Something dangerous. Something inhumane.

Emma swallowed a few pills from the tranquilizer she had bought earlier. Maybe that would weaken the creature inside her.

Then she closed her eyes and waited.

A few minutes later, she was no longer herself.

#the quarry #emma mountebank #abigail blyg #blygbank #emma x abi #emma x f!oc #the quarry fanfiction

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