The damp moss was cool to the touch. The dew left by the afternoon rain soaked through Ren’s jeans and blue jacket. His arms and legs were numb as he laid in the forest clearing. The lull of the creek not far off almost put him to sleep. The ache in his gums—the painful hunger in his stomach—kept him on the edge. He was tired enough to pass out, but as much as he wanted to sleep, he couldn’t.

For weeks a need to kill, to rip a living creature apart, haunted him constantly. No amount of blood satisfied him. And paired with the need to kill was an unsettling feeling only cured by being in the forest. That was why he was there now. There was nothing interesting about the forest except maybe for the large mountain next to it named Crystal Mountain. 

The small town Montis was built at the base of the mountain only decades ago—far back when his grandparents had been children.

Hours must have past since he’d wandered out here. But wandering meant he didn’t know where he was going. The buzzing that rattled his insides every time he wanted to kill left a feeling inside of him. Other than the need to drain the life of living creatures, he had this sense of longing. As if he were waiting for something. The anticipation was almost as scary as the increasingly unstable blood thirst.

His eyes slowly opened. The moonlight filtered through the bony branches. The shadows flickered over his face as he pulled his tired body from the forest floor. A shiver went through him as the wind made his damp clothes freezing for a second.

The moon followed him all the way home. It watched over him as it had done since he was little. When he was feeling lost, he would stay out on the back porch, letting the moonlight settle into his skin. It made the buzzing under his skin better. The light eased the feeling of chaos that plagued him—which always urged him to do things he knew deep down he didn’t want to do. 

There were always times when it wasn’t enough. Those nights he always found himself in the middle of the forest, not knowing how he’d gotten there, or if it was safe for him to leave. The small voice in the back of his head always talked him into sleeping out there until he was positive the buzzing was gone. Margret had to have noticed. But if she did, she didn’t mention it.

He wouldn’t allow himself in the same house his innocent mom was sleeping in when he got that feeling. It made him sick thinking about it. The walk back felt longer than usual. His eyesight was blurry with fatigue and a headache bloomed behind his eyes.

He wouldn’t have to do this for much longer. He was turning eighteen next week and by the time his mom connected all the dots, he would be halfway to Sangui.

A gust of wind blew his jacket open. He shivered harder, catching the end of the jacket and trying to keep it together. The zipper had broken two years ago when Regan and his goons jumped him. They’d torn the blue jacket right off him. He’d hit the pavement as they poked and hit him with large sticks. Margret had been ready to fight anyone who’d touched him, but he argued to make it seem like it was her fault.

He wasn’t proud of that either. But putting distance between them would keep her safe. He was okay with being the sacrificial lamb. She’d sacrificed enough for him.

It was time for him to pay his due.

***

There was a knock on his door. It snapped him out of his sleep. He jerked to the side, almost falling over the edge of his small twin bed. 

Bleary-eyed, he tried to rub the sleep from his face. “Yeah?”

The door opened. Margret poked her head through the crack.

She was smiling. That wasn’t a surprise. 

“Hey. I have to go in early.”

Ren struggled to get out of bed. The sheets wrapped around his legs like they were afraid of letting him go. He wanted nothing more than to fall back in their embrace, but he was afraid of letting his mom leave without the regular hug and kiss.

She wrapped him in her small arms, and he held her close for a brief second. 

“Love you.”

“Love you, too,” he answered. Even though it was a rehearsed line, said every single day since he could remember, there was no part of him that was tired of hearing the simple words. 

There was no doubt in his mind his mom loved him more than anything in the world.

He just hoped she knew how much he loved her back.

Margret pulled away with a soft sigh. She ruffled his curly hair. “Alright then. Don’t sleep in too late. I want to get the kitchen clean when I get back and I’ll need your help taking out the trash.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It didn’t sound as stand offish when he was smiling, but she knew what to do. They’d gone through this a hundred times too.

She playfully smacked him. “Okay. I’m off.”

The room fell quiet as she made her way out the front door. 

Ren stood in the hallway, leaning against the door frame, and waited for the sound of the car to fade. 

He was fine. Better than fine this time.

His heart was till beating and no one had tried to stake him today. Morning had just begun. It was a new day.

But the buzzing under his skin was rumbling. It was searching for something. Something he was afraid to find.

The day passed uneventfully. His mom came back a few hours later, and they cleaned up the kitchen. He took out the trash. The buzzing didn’t stop, though. It was dull, an ache, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. Margret had taken notice of his odd behavior, but she hadn’t asked. There were things she knew not to bring up. She knew when he’d rather keep her in the dark. 

Sometimes he wished she wouldn’t listen to him. He wished she would make him tell her all the things he was doing and make him stop. He wished she would help him find out why he had these sudden urges.

Yet he knew on some level where that path would lead. Her life had been snatched away by a monster like him once. He wasn’t about to be the second.

It wouldn’t be long before he left all this behind. The warmth of his childhood home, his mom’s love, and traded it all for an early death in the Mines. The money wasn’t going to be enough to make up for all the things she had to give up when he was born. But it would be a start. 

And maybe, someday, she would forget she had a son. 

Maybe she could move on from the past, start a new family, and stop being the victim in this twisted story. 

Things were looking up.