A werewolf is perched on the roof of the car.

The roof creaks with its movements as you and Emma tilt your heads towards the sunroof very, very, very slowly.

It crunches as the werewolf shuffles around, and your eyes burn holes upwards, as if staring it down will prevent the entire roof from collapsing under the werewolf’s weight, and getting you crushed or mauled to death.

Goddamnit, this is not how this is supposed to end.

Your scholarship at college isn’t supposed to be wasted like this, your relationships with the other counselors aren’t supposed to end in all of your graves side-by-side; you should be at home right now, sleeping into your future, a degree, maybe a doctorate, maybe a lover, maybe a wonderful future, not moments away from canine teeth tearing you and Emma apart or the roof going smack on both of your forms.

How did you even end up here?

After Jacob and Abi stormed off, Emma and Nick in tow, you had leisurely gone back to your cabin to retrieve a few things you’d forgotten. When you’d returned, the place was deserted.

A burly hunter with a nice hat had splashed blood on your face, and then you saw someone with an eyepatch and a shotgun clamber over a wall, from the distance. You manage to arrive at the poolhouse eventually, the corpse that the person shot floating in the pool. You’d just about recognized the corpse to be Kaylee Hackett, before a vampire-looking, werewolf-reminiscent creature jumps out of the window and tackles you by the pool. You’d later learnt it was Nick, after he had left you alone and scurried away.

Somehow, you’d ended up demarcated from the other counselors, running into Emma near the lodge, the two of you taking up shelter in the car.

Now, here you are, seconds away from a brutal demise.

Emma clutches your hand tightly from beside you.