Eclipsed Hearts

Fateful Night

My whole body shook uncontrollably as I curled into a tight ball in the corner beneath my bed. My hiding spot was not much more than some forgotten containers and hastily shoved clothing, but it was the only refuge I had from the terror outside. The deafening screams of agony and sounds of flesh being torn apart echoed through the air, piercing even the thick walls of my room. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, threatening to burst out at any moment.

Through tear-filled eyes, I watched as my older sister Hallie pushed more items under the bed to protect me; her face a mask of determination and desperation. She commanded me to stay hidden and stay quiet, no matter what. Her words were like a lifeline for me, giving me strength and purpose amid chaos.

With every passing second, the house felt less and less like home and more like a battleground. But Hallie’s words rang in my head, reminding me that this was not just about our survival, but also about honoring our family. My parents needed me to be strong for them, to tell their story if they couldn’t do it themselves.

As I pressed myself further into the corner under the bed, I closed my eyes and prayed for help to come soon. The smell of fear hung heavy in the air, mingling with blood and death. I knew that when this nightmare was over, nothing would ever be the same again.

It felt like hours trying to block out the crying, begging, and screaming coming from elsewhere in the house. I prayed to God for it to end.

The door flew open, but I stayed hidden. Whatever came in walked around our room. It growled, and it sounded like an animal of some sort. Almost like a dog, but bigger and angrier than any dog I’d ever heard.

Did a bear or something get in?

We lived in the woods outside of town. It wasn’t like we’d never seen a bear, mountain lion, or wolf around the property. It was definitely on two feet, though, so it had to be a bear.

Whatever it was, it sniffed around for a while, then left. I stayed where I was. Hallie said someone would come for me. I would stay there until she or our parents came for me.

Eventually, I fell asleep there, on the hard, cool floor under my bed. I didn’t dream, though.

I woke up to a faint light that danced through the gaps in the containers and clothes. Rubbing my eyes, I crawled out from my hiding spot, cautious yet hopeful. The room was eerily silent, the aftermath of chaos lingering in the air.

As I stood up, I peered through the window, greeted by an orange glow on the horizon. The sun had begun its climb in the sky. It was a new day—a day I never thought I would witness after the horrors of the previous night.

But where was everyone? My heart pounded as I stumbled out of my room and into the hallway. The walls were covered in blood, and marks etched in the drywall showed where my family’s struggle had taken place. Each step I took felt heavier than the last, my heart aching for the safety of my loved ones.

I called out weakly, “Hallie? Mom? Dad?” but no one responded.

As I reached the living room, I gasped upon seeing the shattered glass, remnants of a broken window. The front door was wide open, a chilling wind sweeping in with the first light.

My voice echoed eerily in the silent house, and I could feel my knees buckling beneath me as I realized the magnitude of what had happened. My family was gone; they were never coming back.

A desolate sadness came over me, and I went back into the house. I found the phone and the little phone number book next to it. Dad always taught me to call my great-grandfather if anything happened to him or Mom.

I dialed the number and waited as the line rang. It wasn’t long before someone picked up and I heard a grizzled throat clearing.

“Hello?” it asked gruffly.

“This is Bailey Walker. My mom and dad are gone and I can’t find my sister. There was an animal in our house,” my voice quivered as I spoke, but I held it together.

“I see. Your uncle Peter will come and get you. Pack a bag and stay in your room with the door closed. He’ll take care of you,” my great-grandfather replied, and the line went dead.

He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t say everything would be okay. There was no reassurance, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected any from someone I hadn’t seen since I was a toddler. Mom and Dad moved us away from where the rest of our family lived. We went back for some reunion type things, but the rest of the family was always a little distant with me.

I went to my room and pulled out my little suitcase from the last time we went camping and filled it with my favorite clothes. Then I filled my backpack with books, toys, and pictures of my family. Until I knew what happened, I wanted to be prepared. I didn’t know how long I’d be staying with them.

Sometime later, my stomach was growling. I hadn’t eaten since dinnertime, but I was told to stay in my room. Not that I really wanted to go out there and see all the blood and our normally organized house torn to pieces. The twisting in my stomach at the thought of seeing it again was worse than the twisting caused by my hunger. Instead, I sat against the wall next to the dresser and pulled my knees against my chest.

Tears slowly flowed down my cheeks, but I didn’t start actually sobbing but stayed like that. It was like something inside me was broken.

Was I really so terrible that I didn’t even cry until after I made the phone call and packed my bags?

My family would hate me when they found out.

That idea made me cry harder. I didn’t want my family to hate me. I didn’t want them to be gone. I wanted them here with me, doing our usual Sunday stuff with breakfast and a hike. Mom and I were going to work on the last bit of my science project for the fifth-grade science fair next weekend. Dad always helped me with math. Hallie and I were watching a show together every Sunday night before reading time.

But no tears were falling for any of that. The tears were for Hallie, my sister; for Mom and Dad. They were gone. And now, I was alone in this mess of a house with nothing but my backpack, my suitcase, my tears, and the faint memories of the people I used to love and cherish.

A fresh wave of sobs overwhelmed me as I thought about how much I missed them already. I wanted to call their names again, to hear a response, anything. But nothing would come from it but a headache from crying.

The wait seemed endless, and the quiet of the house was eerie. I could hear my heartbeat echoing in the silence, reminding me of the gravity of the situation. The door creaked open and a tall figure stood in the doorway. My heart raced as I tried to discern whether it was a friend or a foe.

“Bailey?” the vaguely familiar voice of my uncle Peter said softly.

He was my dad’s older brother. I only ever saw him once a year, but he sounded like my dad enough that I started crying harder. I couldn’t help it.

“Everything will be fine. I want you to stay here. I’m going to go look around and see if I can figure anything out, okay?”

I nodded as I sobbed. There was no talking. My sorrow took my voice from me. It was as if someone had flipped a switch, and everything went dark. My family, the people who had always been there for me, were gone.

My uncle Peter left the room, and I could hear him moving around the house. The footsteps were like a ticking clock, each step a reminder of the emptiness that now filled our home. I knew he was probably looking for any clues that could help us understand what had happened, but all I could think about were my parents and sister. How this time yesterday everyone was fine and nothing else mattered.

After a long while, I calmed down again. All the crying was exhausting. I was so tired and listed to the side with the weight of my exhaustion.

Uncle Peter came in and looked at me sympathetically. “What did you hear and see, Bailey?”

“Screams. Begging. Guns. Growls. Something came into the room, but I couldn’t see anything. Hallie hid me,” I whispered in a shaky voice.

He sighed. “Werewolves. It sounds like it was a werewolf attack. They probably couldn’t smell you because of all the blood. I found your family. What’s left of them....” Uncle Peter squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I want you to come live with me. You can’t stay here. It’s not safe. If they decide to come back, they will kill you, and I know my brother would want me to take care of you.”

“Werewolves?” I asked in a small voice.

They weren’t real. There was no such thing as monsters. My parents always told me that. Hallie agreed with them and reassured me whenever I told them the stories I heard.

“Yes. Don’t worry, though. Our town is safe. Your mom and dad never told you this, but our family hunts werewolves, so they won’t hurt people like this. Your parents changed their names so werewolves wouldn’t figure out that they were from our family. I don’t know if this was random or planned, but I do know it was definitely a werewolf attack,” he replied solemnly.

Our family hunted monsters? Monsters killed my family. Werewolves took everything from me and left me all alone in the world.

“Can I learn how to hunt werewolves?” I asked, feeling my heart wrench.

He looked at me and came over, lowering himself onto one knee. Uncle Peter put a hand on my head and gave me a soft smile.

“Bailey, your parents never wanted that life for you. I was happy for them when they started a family and left to live a life outside of hunting. I prayed you would all be safe. I don’t think I can teach you knowing that your parents didn’t want that for you,” Uncle Peter answered gently.

I grabbed his hand and looked pleadingly into his eyes. “I need to. They didn’t know this would happen. They would want me to find the wolf who did it. That monster needs to pay for what it did to them. I want to be a hunter, please. Will you teach me so I can hurt the monster that hurt my family?” I asked.

He sighed. “I get where you’re coming from, kiddo. I’ll train you, but if I do, you have to be a hunter for the rest of your life. Your dad and mom bought their way out, but you don’t have the money for that. It’s over a hundred thousand dollars to be released from the family, per person. Your parents paid almost half a million to get you out of this life. Are you really sure you want back in?”

It was like he didn’t want me to be a hunter, but the more he said things like that, the more I wanted it. I wanted this life. I wanted to avenge my parents and Hallie.

“I’m sure,” I replied with steel in my spine.

“Then I’ll train you. Come on. We need to get moving. Grandfather is waiting for you. He’ll be happy that you want to train. Your Aunt Vera will be happy to have you with us. She always wanted a little girl to raise.”

He stood, taking my bags in one hand and holding out the other. I accepted it and let him pull me to my feet. This was the beginning of my journey as a hunter of werewolves, and I wouldn’t rest until the monsters paid for what happened to my family.