Mavis just wanted to get home to her family. She only had two more exits. Less than ten minutes away from her suburban oasis, where her husband and three-month-old daughter were waiting.

Well past three in the morning, it was late, even by diner waitress standers. Mavis squeezed the steering wheel, digging her nails into the thick leather as she pressed down harder on the gas. This was total bullshit. Fucking Erica, calling in sick again. It was beyond Mavis why the owners kept her around. The Lavoie's were a little too kind-hearted in Mavis's opinion. They were an elderly couple, no children of their own, and treated all their employees like family. Mavis thought that made them weak, people often took advantage of them. From the tabs that could not be paid, to the worthless employees. Everyone knew Erica was at the bar, hungover, or more than likely both. She didn't deserve the Lavoie's generosity. This happened at least once a week. It wasn't such a big deal when she pulled this stunt on a random Wednesday, but it was Saturday, and the hosed horde that tore through that place was more than two waitresses could handle. And if Mavis had learned anything serving tables, you didn't want to keep drunkards waiting for their crepes too long. She'd had a beer bottle or two chucked at her over the years, even separated a brawl once. That was an exciting night; a broken nose, eight cop cars, and mopped blood off the floor until two in the morning.

A sharp throb penetrated her skull, forcing her to squint as an oncoming vehicle had failed to turn off its brights, kindling for her gripping headache. Mavis thanked her lucky stars when she saw her exit, she merged into the right lane and down the ramp, gradually coming to a stop at the sign. A high-pitched ding drew her attention to the illuminated gas pump on her dashboard. "Damnit!" She slammed her fist down against the steering column, honking the horn. Her face warmed, and she turned looking for witnesses. The one advantage to coming home after bar close, the roads were dead. She let out a long breath through her nose, it was too late now, she was almost home.

As she passed by one of her neighbor's houses, she groaned, immediately noticing the new line of pumpkins across their deck. She despised Allhallows eve. It was as if for one night a year, the whole world decided to disguise themselves as her own personal PTSD nightmares. This day had all but wiped her out, but this was just coldblooded. She pulled into her spot next to Alexander's truck on the driveway, shutting off the ignition. Mavis squeezed the bridge of her nose, sinking back into her seat, she shut her eyes. It hadn't mattered how many pain killers she had washed back today; the throbbing had never stopped. She moaned as she began rubbing her temples, relief washing over her like warm water. She wanted to go in, wanted to sleep, wanted to eat that leftover lasagna in the fridge, wanted to make Alexander watch an episode of their show; but the last thing she wanted, was to add to his stress. Alexander had a lot on his plate right now. His job at the plant called for long strenuous hours, and he was studying for his up-and-coming exams. They also had Isla now, their beautiful golden baby girl. As sweet as she was, there were those nights when she wanted a midnight snack in the form of a twelve-ounce bottle, that she wasn't quite so adorable. Being a new parent wasn't easy-going. And Alexander had really stepped up as a father, especially when she had returned to work this last month. He picked her up from day-care, handled dinner on his own, gave her baths, and put her to bed. Mavis's work drama seemed trivial compared to his growing list of responsibilities. She knew he would always be there for her, if she went into the house right now, and dumped all this on him, he would let her. Mavis was convinced that he would tell her to quit her job, that he would offer to take on more hours. She shook her head. It wasn't a good time right now, maybe after his exams they could talk about her looking for a new job.

Mavis released a breath, pulling the plug and draining all the tension out of her shoulders as she reluctantly lifted her eyes. Her brows drew together. The house was dark. Too dark. Alexander always left the front porch light on for her, even if he had forgotten this one time, there wasn't a single light on in the house.

She shoved the car door open and tore up the driveway. The streets were shadowed and deserted, leaves blew across the damp pavement, while the dull light from the streetlight ahead melted into the distance. Mavis immediately noticed the lack of wildlife, no birds, or squirrels; something had scared them away. Her muscles tensed, heart hammering in her chest, it rose into the back of her throat and choked her breathing. Mavis rammed her key into the lock, giving it a quick turn, she burst across the threshold. The hairs raised on the back of her neck. The house moaned, and turning leaves drifted in past her feet, disappearing into the darkened hallway in front of her. Mavis reached into the darkness and caught the corner of the light switch with her hand. Immediately her hand encountered a tacky mucousy substance, and she jerked it back. She scrunched her face as she strained to see what repulsive matter she had touched. Mavis felt her stomach sink into a deep pit as it began to turn. She reached for the switch again, cautiously hovering her hand over it until she found the switch with her fingers. She flipped on the lights and froze. Thick blackened blood covered her fingers, bold against the white wall in front of her. Mavis turned her head and her eyes widened as her breath caught. There was blood, everywhere. On the walls, the ceiling, it had dried into thick rings on the floor and trailed back down the hall towards the kitchen. A smeared handprint on the wall, made Mavis's knees go weak. "ALEXANDER!"

The house remained still. Mavis sucked in a harsh breath then bolted down the hallway. Her soundings slanted towards the right, and Mavis stumbled to avoid colliding with the wall. There was so much blood, the deeper she moved into the house the more pungent the sweetness became. Her breaths came out in painful gasps. She turned the lights on in the kitchen and stiffen as a raw jolt surged up her back. Dark specks of blood covered the white cupboards, turning them a dusty shade of pink, and the front of the cabinets were left streaked in clotted ridges. The kitchen looked like a slaughterhouse. A chilled gust swept across the room, drawing Mavis's attention towards the smashed sliding glass door. Tensing her jaw, she entered the room. Crunch. Her eyes dropped to the floor. Shards of glass were spread across the grey tile, scattered amongst hunks of dry wall, dotted in faded blood. Just barely sticky out past the kitchen Island, something navy blue caught her eye. Mavis moved closer to Island, and her eyes widened. It was an arm. She darted forward, "Alexander, Honey?" Rounding the corner Mavis found a severed arm lying on the floor. She shrieked and staggered backwards, catching herself on the counter. Mavis breathed so quickly, she felt like she wasn't breathing at all. Her pulse raged in her ears, and each rhythmic pump of her heart sunk her closer to the floor. The way his skin and the shirt fabric had been torn, something like that couldn't have been done by a human or just any animal. Undeniably, Mavis knew there had been a werewolf in her home.

She swallowed, before pushing herself off the counter, and wobbled towards the dining room entrance. Her hand shook violently as she reached around the corner for the light switch. She inhaled, held it in, and turned on the lights. Mavis screamed, spotting Alexander lying on the floor. Stumbling forward, she landed on his knees beside him. Mavis clenched her hands into fists at her sides as she stared at his missing right arm. Deep, wide gashes covered his body; his liver, lungs, intestine were all ripped out of him and left lying around his waist like chunky meat pudding. From the neck down he was completely unrecognizable. His hollowed-out chest collapsed to the floor, and barely attached to what remained of his left arm. That monster used him as a chew toy. Tears blurred her eyes. She reached for his face, failing to cup the full size of his cheeks within her palms. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed her forehead against his. This was too cruel. Her heart clenched as she envisioned all the horrific things he must have experienced before he died. He didn't deserve this. It should have been her. This was her fault, she should have been here, should have protected him. Alexander had been everything to her since she lost her family. Also raised in the system, he understood what it was like to have no one. They had bonded over that initially, finding a family in each other. And when they had started their own- her eyes widened. Isla.

A fierce shot of adrenaline hit Mavis like afreight train. She pushed herself to her feet, stumbling to the side, and rammedher shoulder into the wall as she entered the kitchen. Mavis pulled herselfthrough the doorway to the hall, and collided with the wall, then slammed intothe opposite wall before she finally reached the stairs. At the bottom of thesteps, Mavis slipped on the first step, landing hard on her hands. Ignore the rawburn on palms and allowing instinct to kick in as she crawled up the stairs. Maviswheezed, there was another bloody handprint on the door. She threw the dooropen and rushed to the crib, finding it empty. Mavis shrieked, there was bloodon the sheets. She gripped the crib railing as her legs began to shake. She criedout again as tears filled her eyes. The pain to her chest was unbearable, adeep gnawing hole that would slowly eat her alive. This was her fault. She sunkto the floor. Mavis inhaled two sharp breaths, shaking. Tears ran down hercheeks and she let out a short bloodcurdling scream that tapered into gaspingsobs. Someone had taken her baby.