What you think does matter

The first slam against the outpost door was deafening, reverberating through the stone walls and shaking loose a small cloud of dust from the ceiling beams. It was followed by an eerie silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the rapid thudding of my own heartbeat. Evelyn spun toward the door, her daggers glinting in the dim firelight. Her jaw was clenched tight, and the muscles in her neck stood out like cables under strain. She wasn’t scared—that wasn’t the right word. She was ready, coiled like a spring about to snap. “What was that?” Brady’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the panic in it was unmistakable. “Werewolves,” Evelyn said simply. She didn’t even look at him, her focus fixed on the door. My mouth went dry. The thought of those creatures—hulking, feral, and unstoppable—on the other side of that fragile wooden door made my stomach churn. I could almost see their glowing eyes in my mind, smell the wet fur and blood that clung to them like a second skin. Ano...

 The Hidden Monster War The Howling Shadow Chapter Six The howl sent shivers racing down my spine, sharp as ice and impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just a sound—it was a warning, a promise of the nightmare closing in. It echoed through the trees, each long note vibrating through the ground beneath my feet. The air around us seemed to thicken, heavy with an unspoken threat, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. Mia clutched her knees to her chest, her wide eyes reflecting the firelight. Her lips parted, but no words came out, just a shallow gasp. Beside her, Brady’s hand hovered near the small hatchet he had found earlier in the camp. His knuckles turned white, and though he tried to look brave, the way his shoulders hunched betrayed his unease. “They’re closer than I thought,” Evelyn murmured, her voice low but steady. She stood, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. Her calm demeanor was both reassuring and terrifying, like a storm brewing on the horizon. “What...w...

I stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the creaks and groans of our old house. I wasn’t scared—no, not scared—because monsters weren’t real. That’s what my dad always said. “Big boys aren’t afraid of the dark, Simon. There’s nothing there.” But tonight, the shadows seemed different, deeper somehow. My bed felt smaller, like the darkness was closing in around me. My parents had gone to an important dinner, leaving me with Sarah, a quiet girl who barely said two words since they’d left. She sat glued to the TV downstairs while I was stuck up here, alone. The clock on my nightstand blinked 9:47 PM in glowing red numbers. I rolled over, squeezing my eyes shut, when I heard it. Eeee-creeeeak. The door. My door. Slowly opening. I sat up, my heart hammering in my chest. The hallway outside was empty—at least, that’s what it looked like. “Sarah?” I called, my voice shaking. No answer. The door, which I had closed tightly, now hung ajar, its hinges whining like something had pushed it open....