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A hint of concern settled in Izzy’s eyes when Riley cracked his back. At least he had apparently mostly recovered from his own encounters with the Wolf. She nodded and watch him head toward an unblocked window, its glass long since shattered and boards pried off.
“Thanks for the suggestions,” she said just before he glanced back, avoiding any form of the word ‘help.’ Though it was infuriating—and terrifying—that she would have to go it alone, he had had at least, in his own way, helped.
She nodded stiffly at his parting words, unsure if he saw the action before he disappeared. If it came to that, to her life or Trevor’s, could she—would she—willingly take him out to saver her own skin? She bit her lower lip.
She took a deep, steadying breath. That was a problem she could worry about later. Right now, she needed to figure out the how, where, and what. She had the Aberration Slayer, but she needed a backup plan, in case Riley was right, and it failed her. What remained of the school’s playground might work for the where, with the few bits of weathered equipment that remained. Perhaps those could even be used against the Wolf, if needed, and there had to be something around the school she could round up to use. After all, the only people who may miss anything from either place were taggers. As for luring the Wolf to the abandoned school…
Izzy took her phone from her jeans’ pocket, ignoring the late hour that flashed up on the screen before she unlocked it. Maybe she would get lucky, and he would check his phone. Perhaps a distress message would get his attention.
She went to the messages between Trevor and her still in the folder. If, say, she was to play that what she had done to Cerasus was slowly wearing off, perhaps it would appeal both to Trevor to come to her as a friend in need, while the potential threat of two vampires getting in the Wolf’s way would make it want to show up as well.
Then, of course, there was being capable of keeping up with it in the first place. That was the first thing she needed to figure out. Before scavenging. Before messaging Trevor. She doubted there was any trap she could set up, any plans she could make without getting herself killed in a fraction of a second without being at least close to equal with its strength and speed.
Izzy looked to the vampire’s corner, running a hand through the lose portion of her hair. At least the turning point would be obvious. However, she had no idea what he, in turn, would become strong enough to do. But her only other options were to leave the Wolf to wreak havoc as it willed in her friend's body, or become dog chow.
For Trevor, she thought, exhaling slowly. And the hundreds of others the Wolf would attack, otherwise.
She unwound the flowing fabric of the scarf from her neck, placed it on the desk behind the sword, then, holding her breath, stepped to the vampire child.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Izzy said, trying to keep a quiver and her uncertainty from leaking into her voice as she sat down beside him as she had so many times before. Her heart pounded quicker in her chest at the thought of everything that could go wrong, starting with this step one. “I have a White Wolf to deal with.”

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Panic still tightening her chest, Izzy watched the child sulk back to his corner. She stood and glanced around the room, glad the ill effects of losing blood did not apply to her in this instance. But the question then became, by how much had her abilities increased?
She looked to her hand and flexed her fingers as if it would offer a simple answer.
“Okay,” she breathed heavily. Tugging the hem of her shirt down, she went to the desk with the flashlight. She grabbed it and clicked it off. She blinked in the darkness that flooded around her, taking advantage of the absence of their adversary.
Though she could see better in the dark room, it was by no means enough to be very encouraging. With her mouth pursed in uncertainty, she clicked the light back on. Sparing the sword a quick glance as if to reassure herself it had not disappeared in the couple moments of darkness, she left the room to search for anything that could be of potential use. Even if whatever she found would be good for only a single strike against the White Wolf, if she was lucky, at least it would be something.
Testing her speed, she ran through the halls. As far Izzy could tell, she was moving a bit faster, but by how much, she could not say for sure. She could only hope it would be fast enough.
As quickly as she could, she began gathering a few things she hoped could be of use to her should the sword fail. Tying and weaving a few lengthy wires together, she created what she hoped could potentially be used to trip the Wolf up if she concealed it well enough. And if it did not just snap.
She stopped near the front doors with their broken chain and lock, grabbing the longest strand of intact chain. She pulled it taut, trying to pry the links apart to test the chain’s strength, as well as her own. She felt them bend slightly, but they did not break. Not sure if that worried or satisfied her, she coiled it over her arm alongside the length of electrical wire, then collected bits of desk legs and broken pipes that had rusted away, leaving a sharp point on at least one end.
Once she had her arms full, juggling various items while keeping hold of her flashlight, Izzy went out to the playground.
Located behind the school, it was in just as bad disrepair as she remembered it, if not worse. Ivy strangled the rusting monkey bars. The dilapidated equipment that had been forgotten by the city sat as dark, forlorn shapes in the night. Weeds and grass overdo to be cut burst from between the cracked cement and licked at the base of what equipment remained like the earth’s version of flames.
She dumped her load onto the ground, then clicked her light off. Though the moon was scarcely a sliver, she could see fairly well by the light radiating from the nearby town. At least sufficient lighting would not be a problem she would have to tackle when going against the White Wolf.
She set to strategically placing her pickings about the area, hiding them where she could while keeping them easily accessible. She dropped the chain on the ground near the skeleton of a swing set, the rusted links fitting in with the rest of the rotting playground, then tied her strand of wire as high as she dared between the monkey bars and what remained of a dome climber. As far as she could tell, the tall grass sprouting between them hid the wires well.
Trying to not think about what these poor excuses of weapons could potentially do to Trevor, she tried to focus instead on how she could bring down the Wolf. If Trevor was still in there somewhere, perhaps she could appeal to him. Perhaps he could fight against the Wolf’s influence, if she could only get through to him.
The uncertainty of it all made her stomach churn.
She headed back to the school and hurried into the vampire child’s current classroom. She went to the sword, and gripped its handle with an unsteady hand.
This’ll work, she tried to reassure herself. This will work.
Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, she picked up the sword then stepped to the doorway, her legs moving slower from the weight of her worries and fear. She tried to push aside the doubts hanging thick around her. She had to do this. At last, she had found something she could do to help Trevor, something to return the sacrifices her friend had made for her, no matter what had driven him to it.
With her flashlight still in hand, she paused in the doorway, hanging her head. She closed her eyes for a moment as she took another breath, then tilted her head toward the vampire child’s corner.
“Thank you,” she began, her voice stiff. Her tone loosened, growing sincerer as she continued. “I know how much this sword must mean to you.” She turned to better face him. “I’ll take care of it, and make sure I bring it back. Safe and sound.”
Not expecting any kind of answer, Izzy disappeared into the shadows of the hallways.
She returned to the playground. Scanning it, she went to a spot almost at the center of her layout of hidden makeshift weapons, then carefully concealed the sword beneath a pile of rocks and weeds. She practiced drawing it from the hiding place a few times, then knelt down within arm’s reach of it. She licked her lips then bit the bottom one as she pulled her phone from her pocket.
This was it. It was time to try to draw Trevor and the Wolf to her. Her shaking thumbs making it difficult to type, she went to his contact and started a new message:

It’s wearing off. Cerasus. He’s getting his powers back.
I don’t know what to do. What *he’ll* do. Can’t find Riley anywhere.
At the playground at the old school.
Please, Trevor! If you're still in there, I need you.

Swallowing hard, Izzy hit the send button. She watched the message until her phone got a moment of service, and it sent. Replacing the phone in her pocket with a quaking hand, she wrapped her arms tightly around her torso and closed her eyes, listening to the night, waiting for any unusual sound, any sign that the Wolf and Trevor had taken the bait.

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Every second that ticked by only made Izzy’s concern grow. What if he did not show? What if he did, but only the White Wolf was in control, Trevor too far gone? What if she failed him?
She shook her head, doing her best to force her mind to remain blank, or to focus only on the task at hand, not the emotions involved. Alas, she only succeeded in keeping her thoughts at bay for mere seconds at a time.
But she did not have as long as she expected to worry about drowning in her fears and “What ifs.”
Her eyes snapped open at the whistle of a body sailing through the sky. She had barely begun to jump to her feet from the cross-legged position she had shifted into and spin around before the squealing crunch of the Wolf colliding into the monkey bars filled the night. She gasped and staggered back as the Wolf easily untangled itself from the mass of metal that had become the monkey bars. She spared a quick glance to where she had tied her wire, hoping that one rod had not bent far enough to effect it or make it more visible, but did not dare let her gaze linger.
Every muscle tense and ready for action as adrenaline rushed through her, she watched with bated breath as the wolf slid to a stop not far from her. But it was not the Wolf’s cold stare that looked up at her. A small sliver of relief settled in her; Trevor really was still there.
She felt her heart quicken from nerves as he glanced around the playground, then spoke again. Could he see everything she had hidden?
“I-I’m sorry, Trevor.” She forced her hands to relax at her side, her eyes pleading for him to understand, to maintain control over his own mind and body. “It was the only thing I thought would reach you now. I need to talk to you.” She shook her head, her eyes on his, hoping against hope it would not come down to a fight between her and the Wolf. “It wasn’t entirely a lie. I do need you. Not the White Wolf, but you, Trevor. I don’t know how it’s doing what it’s doing, but you need to fight it! Sever the link it’s made. Something! It’s hurting people through you.” She subconsciously rubbed the arm the Wolf had torn off. “People have ended up in the hospital because of what it's done. Please, Trevor. I don’t know if it’s possible, but you need to try!”

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Izzy watched him closely, raising her hands defensively in front of her when Trevor’s posture tensed, ready to go for the sword. But then he shivered. When at last he looked back to her, she met his gaze, the gaze of neither the Wolf, nor the Trevor she knew.
His next words made her blood run cold. Her face paled as it all sunk in; the Wolf had simply touched him. Trevor had done the rest of his own free will.
She inhaled a tremulous breath, and shook her head in denial. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered. “You’re better than this, Trevor. I’ve seen that. I’m so sorry I let you get involved in all this. If I hadn’t…” She exhaled heavily, and scrunched her eyes shut for a short second before looking back to him. Guilt and blame would get her nowhere right now.
“I get that you’ve been through a lot of crap. More than your fair share. But if you don’t stop, you’re no better than the people who have abused you. You'll be the monster. Whatever’s going on that makes you think you want to hurt people, you can work through it another way.” She risked taking half a step closer to him. “And I’ll be here to help you however I can. Just stop this. I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt. Especially not you.”

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Startled, Izzy inhaled sharply and backed off when Trevor snarled, fear in her eyes. She stepped so she stood beside the sword’s hiding place, the hilt obscured by a tangle of weeds. She was losing him. Even if everything he had done was of his choosing, his appearance was enough to show there was still something supernatural going on. Perhaps the sword could sever it, whatever “it” was. At the very least, she had to try.
“Okay,” she said softly, raising her hands in front of her and crouching down as if in an attempt to seem less antagonizing, being more at his eye-level rather than standing over him, the hidden sword to her left. She swallowed. “I’m sorry, Trevor.”
As quickly as she could, she pulled the Aberration Slayer easily from its hiding place, a few rocks and broken bits of concrete thumping back to the earth in her haste. She lunged at him, the longsword held in both hands, its blade aimed for Trevor.

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In the split second it took for the blade to meet Wolf and claws meet flesh, Izzy knew two things: first, that her abilities had not been enhanced nearly enough to pose any kind of major threat to the White Wolf, and second, a searing, agonizing pain as the Wolf’s strength sent her soaring into the crumbling wall of the school.
Flashes of white burst over her vision when she smacked into the stone. With a trembling groan, she slid down the wall to the ground amidst weeds, rocks, and bits of broken building, her upper back propped awkwardly against the wall. She had somehow managed to keep a hold of the sword, its hilt held loosely in her right hand. Her teeth grit hard and each quick exhale a pained moan, she tried to force herself to focus. If the wound she had dealt the Wolf did not work, it could be readying its next attack.
But the sight that met her once the fuzzy haze of agony cleared enough for her make it out made an icy chill seep through her body. What was left of it, at least. She stared, horrified, at Trevor’s writhing form and the pair of legs—her legs—not far from him. She did not need to look down to know what she would see. They had not evaporated, and the agony blazing its way through her from waist up was enough to tell her that her healing abilities had not increased enough to save her. But her plan seemed to have worked, and that was what mattered. He had risked his life for her. The least she could do was the same, even if it meant she lost hers in the process.
Until everything went even more wrong.
Her breathing ragged and heart pounding erratically in her throat, she draped a shaking arm just above the severed part of her body, thick, warm blood instantly coating her skin. Fighting against the darkness lurking at the edges of her swirling vision, her sight blurring in and out, she watched with confused terror as the Wolf began to manifest itself, Trevor’s cries mingling with the Wolf’s howls.
“No,” she rasped out between her teeth, a bitter metallic taste in her mouth.
Whatever she had done to the Wolf, she had not killed it. She had only made things worse, and there was nothing she could do but watch until the last of her life drained from her. The last thing she would see, she feared, before Death came to collect her was the Wolf’s triumph. Her head thunked back against the school’s wall, her neck tiring of holding it up.
Then came the impossible voice, echoing in her head. In the partial second between another bout of hazy vision and relative clarity, the vampire child stood over her. She blinked a couple times, unsure if he was really there, or a figment of her imagination. It took her muddled brain longer than it should have to register what he said, if he was even speaking at all. She tried to speak after the second time she thought she heard him, to ask a simple, “What?” but only a pained whimper came out in place of words, her lips too weak along with the rest of her to work properly.
There was no way he was really there, but when the pain ebbed and her lower half regrew, her body healed by his blood, there was no denying it. While his words may have been a hallucination, the vampire child was, in fact, there. When he took the sword, the back of her hand against the ground, her fingers curled around the empty air.
When he turned to Trevor and the Wolf, Izzy tried to make herself stand, but her limbs felt like they weighed thousands of pounds. A leg twitched, as if it thought about obeying, but had changed its mind. Though the pain had stopped, the darkness creeping around her vision threatened to take over, her world still seeming to spin as she watched the child drain the Wolf’s life, then disappear.
At last, it was over. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the unfocused form of Riley stood over her. The world around her felt a million miles away. Only vaguely aware as he picked her up, she groaned, his voice as distant in her ears as the schoolyard seemed.
The sound of Trevor’s voice followed her into unconsciousness, her body falling completely limp in Riley’s arms.

The familiar din of her brothers broke through the darkness of Izzy’s slumber. She really, really hoped that was not what being dead sounded like. Their voices were muffled at first, as if she was hearing them from underwater, her eyelids lead weights demanding she return to sleep for a while longer. The night before felt more like a foggy nightmare nagging at the back of her mind than actual events. Part of her wished, hoped it really was nothing but a nightmare, a gruesome story her unconscious mind had decided to concoct. But with a groan, she rolled onto her stomach, her comforter draped over her, and forced her eyes open as every last detail came crashing back to her.
As hard as she wished it, it had been no dream.
Trevor—or the Wolf, if not both—had nearly killed her. And against all odds, the vampire child had, at long last, moved from the worn, dingy classrooms to come to her rescue. But what had become of Trevor?
Her body weighed down from the sleep still clinging to her with a greater fierceness than usual, she forced herself to roll out of bed, taking a moment to make sure her feet,covered by a pair of white socks, were properly attached before standing. She changed out of the clothes she still wore from the previous day, trying to shake off the almost congested feeling sticking to her, then stole downstairs. She tried to sneak out without her brothers noticing her. She needed to know if Trevor was okay, all things considered, and she figured the best place to search for him was the school. If he was not there, then perhaps Riley would be, and she could ask him where to find Trevor.

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As always, though a stuffiness hung in the air, the inside of the school was a bit cooler than the muggy outdoors. When Izzy found the child, she had to stop in her search for Riley or Trevor. She stepped inside the room to get a closer look at the new accessory he had somehow obtained. She blinked a couple times, before her lips quirked upward at the sight of him wearing it. Wondering where he had gotten it, she was about to turn to leave and resume her hunt, but Riley’s voice broke through the relative silence of the room. She turned to face him, her fingers inside her pants pockets.
Her brows rose at his question-inducing explanation at how the child had gotten the helmet, but that was a topic that could wait. She bent her head to look to the cracked floor when he continued, her eyes narrowing slightly at his callous statement, but not because he had said it. She had thought essentially the same thing, but it sounded like he had seen the entire fight, as short as it was, despite having supposedly left.
She took a breath, and shook her head. “Me too.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the vampire child’s corner. She had had ample time to think on the child’s curious actions from the previous night on the bike ride to the school. “If he hadn’t saved me, he would’ve gotten what he wanted in the first place. He’d have ultimately died along with me.” Her gaze settled on the child for a short moment. Perhaps he had, in some way, begun to realize he wanted to live after all.
She looked back to Riley at Trevor’s name, then sighed in relief at the news of his condition. “Can I see him? I won’t disturb him. I just… I need to see him for myself.”

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Home. Trevor was home, which made it impossible for Izzy to check in on him without waking him, or meeting his unsavory guardians if they were home, if not both. When Riley continued, she glanced to the floor, anticipating how he would finish the sentence, but she looked back to him with a puzzled look. Before she could open her mouth to ask, he elaborated.
Izzy nodded in understanding at his explanation.
“You collect aberrations?” she interrupted, her brows furrowing in curiosity. For a moment, she could not help but wonder if she and the vampire child were apart of his ‘collection.’
When he finished speaking, she swallowed and glanced away.
“I’m glad he doesn’t remember any of it,” she began. Wish I could forget what happened, she added silently, draping her hands around her midsection. She bit her lower lip for a short moment, then continued. “But that part of him that wanted the White Wolf to stay is still in there, isn’t it? The part that wanted to hurt people.”
Izzy took a slow breath. He was the last person she would have imagined wanting to inflict suffering on others, but here they were all because he had welcomed the White Wolf with open arms. Trevor was far from the person she had thought he was, from who he appeared to be through the little window peering into the room he wanted everyone to see.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” She finished softly.

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“Ah,” came Izzy’s laconic response to Riley’s first answer, letting him finish. That makes more sense.
She sighed heavily at his second answer. The sooner Trevor could get out of that house with his so-called family, the better. For everyone.
The man’s last answer was not one she had expected from him, but she nodded in agreement. There was not much else they could do, she supposed, and bringing what Trevor had done while under the influence of the Black Wolf would change little, if anything.
“‘Gray’ seems to be the color of the world ninety percent of the time.” She watched Riley stand, then nodded once. “Speaking of family, though, I should probably get back to mine. I’ve been neglecting them for the past week.” She gave a sheepish smile, then glanced over her shoulder toward the vampire child’s corner.
Looking back to Riley, she gave him a quick farewell nod, then turned and went to where the child sat, unusual helmet and all. She knelt in front of him and bent her head in an attempt at hiding her grin at the sight.
“Thank you for saving me last night,” she began, her expression audible in her voice for a moment before sobering. “I owe you for that. It’s good to know you don’t hate me enough to let me die.” She looked up and gave him a grateful smile, not expecting any kind of answer from him, then got to her feet and left the school.
Though her brothers and parents often drove her insane, at the end of the day, she loved them, and they were truly her family. Izzy would not exchange that for anything. As she pedaled down the road beneath the warmth of the mid-morning sun, she could not help but feel sorry for Trevor and the family he had never gotten the chance to have.

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For the millionth time that semester, Izzy had taken the wrong turn through the school. Lost in thought, as she so often found herself lately, her legs had instinctively tried to take her to one of last year’s classrooms. Frustrated and a bit frazzled, she jogged through the halls toward a set of stairs. The halls were vacant, everyone already in their proper classes, making the echo of her footsteps sound louder than normal.
She forced herself to focus on where she was going. Her shoes squeaked on the linoleum when she nearly passed the staircase she needed to take, skidding to a short halt before scrambling up the stairs.
Noticing a boy on the wide stairway ahead of her, she started to step to the side to go around him. She had sat behind him in enough classes to recognized him just from his back as Holden Sandstrom, the sickly boy whose seat often sat empty. But just as she was only a few steps away, the delicate-looking boy lost his balance and tumbled backward.
Without thinking it over, she dropped her physics book and notebook, and braced herself to try catching him. Though she suspected his weight would only send both of them tumbling down the stairs, perhaps she could at least soften his fall.
Instead, when his back met her, it felt as if she had caught little more than a breeze between her arms.
What the… Before she could fully register what had happened, Holden had collected himself and raced up the stairs.
"Hey! Hold on!" she tried calling, taking a couple hasty steps up, but he had already disappeared around the corner. She stared after him for a moment, blinking. He had grown up in the town, as far as she knew, and she had seen him frequently in the halls and classes of the high school. There was no way he could be an aberration… was there?
Shaking her head, Izzy quickly collected her things, chasing after a pencil that had slipped from the spiral of the notebook. Could he have been affected, like Trevor had, by something the residue of Cerasus’ presence had conjured?
With her things gathered, she continued to her class, but her mind remained on Holden and his unnatural weightlessness.
The rest of the day dragged by. Izzy looked for him in their couple shared classes and the crowds of students that flooded the halls between bells, but she did not see him again, even at lunch. By the time the day finally came to an end, Izzy had given up trying to find him. Even if he had stuck around school, just avoiding her, he would have gone home by now.
Now, sitting in the art classroom with Trevor, the tube lights buzzing softly above them, she sat across from him on one of the tables, the end of a pen tapping restlessly against the wood.
“Remind me again how I let you talk me into this?” she asked with a groan when, at last, he declared a break from their tedious work.
She leaned back in her chair so it balanced precariously on its two back legs as Trevor removed his glasses. She watched him for a short moment, thinking, yet again, about what had happened to him, and wondering if Holden was dealing with something equally as supernatural. Or, rather, what he was dealing with. After all, nothing she knew of in the “natural” world could cause such a symptom.
“Random question for you,” she began as nonchalantly as she could. “Do you know anything about Holden Sandstrom?”
She linked her hands behind her head beneath her usual high ponytail as her friend answered. The rolled-up sleeves of a camouflage-patterned jacket she had found at a thrift store to replace one of her old ones pulled up slightly.
“What?” Her chair clanked back to the floor at his inquiry of having a crush. “No. Nothing like that. Like you said, I’ve had a lot of classes with him.” She shrugged. “Thought I’d find out what I could about him. See if he needs help with schoolwork what with all his sick days.”
“Huh,” she said thoughtfully as Trevor leaned back. Her brows rose slightly when he finished speaking. You have no idea. “Don’t suppose you know where he lives, do you? Maybe I’ll drop by or something. See if he needs a hand with anything.”

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