The next morning, Derek stuffed a few essentials into a duffel bag and glanced around his room one last time. He’d had enough of the tension, the stares, the silence, the threat still echoing in his mind.

  His mother hadn’t spoken to him since the night she lifted him off the ground like he weighed nothing.

  By noon, he found himself pacing in the parking lot of the Bayou Mounds Police Department. He called Detective Olivia Hale.

  “You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you,” Derek said, his voice shaking slightly.

  “Try me,” Hale replied.

  “I tried to talk to her,” he began. “About her behavior, how she’s been acting since the explosion. It’s like she snapped.”

  Hale said nothing.

  “She grabbed me by the collar and lifted me clean off the floor,” he continued. “Her hand was like a damn vice. She looked me in the eyes and said she’d kill me if I didn’t stay out of her business.”

  He paused, breath catching. “When she finally dropped me, I hit the couch so hard it knocked the wind out of me. She slammed her door after that, and I heard this roar. Loud. Deep. Like it came from inside the walls.”

  A moment of silence passed before Hale finally spoke.

  “All right,” she said, calm but direct. “You’re going to have to go into her bedroom.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Look through her stuff. Anything that looks off, you document it.”

  “I ain’t doing that,” Derek said. “That’s crazy.”

  “Trust me,” Hale said. “There’s not enough to get a warrant yet, and if I tell a judge what you just told me, he’ll probably fall out of his chair. Just look. Quietly. Then call me.”

  She hung up, but her words clung to him.

  That night, with Sheryl gone for her first hospital shift since her vacation, Derek returned to the house. The air felt heavy, thick with the smell of bleach and perfume.

  Her room was dark, curtains drawn. He flipped the light on.

  What he found wasn’t chaos. It was order. Precise. Purposeful.

  Folders stacked by date. Names, phone numbers, and addresses written in small, perfect handwriting.

  He flipped through the papers and froze. Every map had a red marker on a different location, state parks. Places with mountains, thick woods, and hiking trails. His mother hated the outdoors. She wouldn’t even picnic in the yard.

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  On the broken dresser lay two business cards.

  Monica Scales

  Real Estate Broker

  Two copies. Not one. Two.

  Derek pocketed them both.

  He scanned the vanity and spotted a strand of long, black hair on the sink, thicker than normal, like animal fur under a light. He plucked it carefully and sealed it in a small plastic bag from his wallet. His pulse pounded.

  Then came the worst part.

  Inside one of the notebooks, written in neat pen strokes, was a list of ten names under the heading:

  Alpha Kappa Alpha

  Contact List

  He knew those names. They were her sorority sisters, doctors, professors, and business owners.

  He stepped back, stunned.

  None of this made sense.

  Nothing about this was crazy.

  It felt organized. Tactical.

  Outside, a car idled three houses down.

  Karen sat behind the wheel, her eyes locked on the glow of Derek’s bedroom window.

  She didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

  Just watched.

  Later that day, Derek called Hale again.

  “I found something,” he said.

  His voice carried both fear and a sense of realization.

  He was no longer guessing.

  He was uncovering.

  Curiosity drew Derek back to the house, which no longer felt like home. The air inside was still, heavily watching him. He stepped quietly through the hallway and into his mother’s bedroom once more.

  Nothing new. No new notes. No new clues.

  Just the same silence that had followed him since their fight.

  As he turned to leave, a shadow shifted in the living room.

  Sheryl stood there, hands folded, posture rigid. Her scrubs still clung to her, though her expression was anything but human.

  “Mom… I thought you were still at work,” Derek said, his voice unsteady.

  Her reply came low and flat. “I’m going to ask you this once.”

  She took one step forward.

  “Were you in my room?”

  Derek froze. “Mom”

  Her voice sharpened. “Were you in my room!”

  The final word snapped through the house like a gunshot.

  “Yes. Mom, I”

  She shook her head slowly, almost disappointed. “I tried to warn you.”

  Then, softer, almost a whisper.

  “But now it’s time I show you what I am.”

  Her chest rose sharply. The sound of cracking bones filled the air. Derek’s pulse spiked as he stumbled backward. Her jaw trembled, skin tightening, veins blackening beneath the surface.

  “Mom…” he whispered.

  Sheryl’s body swelled, muscles surging beneath, tearing fabric. Her shoulders broadened; her scrubs shredded at the seams and fell away in strips. Bones popped like breaking branches. Her feet tore through her tennis shoes, reshaping, bending into a digitigrade stance.

  When the transformation ended, what stood before him wasn’t his mother.

  It was an eight-foot beast with molten yellow eyes, breathing slow and heavy.

  The creature stepped forward, claws scraping the floorboards.

  Derek moved without thinking. He reached into his duffel bag, drew out his sawed-off twelve-gauge, and snapped it open with trembling hands.

  “Stay back,” he said, voice shaking.

  The werewolf tilted its head, almost curious, and took another step.

  He fired.

  Once.

  Twice.

  The rounds hit her abdomen with thunderous force. Flesh and fur split, blood spraying the wall. She staggered but didn’t fall.

  Two more shells roared from the barrel. The impact threw her backward, crashing into the wall before she collapsed in a heap, motionless.

  Smoke drifted from the shotgun’s muzzle. Derek’s hands shook so hard the weapon almost slipped from his grasp. He stared at the fallen creature, at what had once been his mother, his breath shallow and uneven.

  “God, forgive me.”

  He turned and sprinted out the front door and into the night.

  By the time he reached his truck and slammed the door, he could still hear her heartbeat in his head, or maybe it was his own.

  Inside the house, the eight-foot monster lay sprawled across the floor, blood pooling beneath her.

  Then her fingers twitched.

  And the silence broke.

  Bayou Blood: The Awakening. If this chapter landed hard, comments, follows, and ratings help the story grow on Royal Road.