The Curse Of Black Hollow Pack

od in t

etective Aiden Cross's jeep as it wound its way up the lonely road to Black Hollow. The wipers squeaked across

en back here

he fire that burne

ves came howling through the valle

ce he'd sworn

summoned not by choice b

radio crackl

e Cross, d

receiver to his

oice came through-Chief

Same pattern. You'll want

lowed hard.

ods. Near the old logg

that meant somethin

t to brace yoursel

ine we

tatement when it c

gh disease, but through fear. Stories of cursed wolves, of moonlit screams

l the night his father was found with his throat ripp

. The jeep groaned as it climbed the l

TO BLAC

tion: U

al rusted, as if the town itself

of the mist. His boots crunched over wet leaves. The smell of blood was fa

the sound of murmuring voices ahead.

reeted him, trying to sound bra

tly. The officers parted, reveal

n. Deep claw marks across the chest. A face half-

fficers whispered. "Yo

this." His voice was low, grim. "This was deliberat

cop echoed. "Sir, that

"Whoever-or whatever-did this

beside the body. Tr

f pr

ze didn't exist. No

e body bagged. Send it to forensics. And

ed, though his ey

lowing the trail deeper into the woods. The fo

-but instinct meant little when your wh

ud-a silver pendant, old and tarnished, sha

seen it before, burned in

f the Black

w growl cut thr

r on his neck bristle

ilent, watching. Eyes glowed amber

ght of it both comfort an

er. Just

knew what

he knew wh

e was wak

-

box of cigarette smoke, coffee stains, and creaking floors.

in his chair when Aiden ent

ve all

la file across the desk. "Victim's name was Clara H

y fa

. Just like

rowned.

our in the past two months. All the same-rippe

't I calle

re." The chief's tone softened. "Af

n hand

can. That's w

nched. "You thin

ollow has a way o

nce. Rain began to pat

ice low. "You still believe it, d

Belief doesn't matter

the truth: belief was al

-

town that smelled faintly of mold and whiskey. He placed the pendant on the

f the Black

ges yellowed, edges burned. Drawings of wo

his eye, scrawled

od for blood, moon for moon. The pack feeds on r

bir

His father's face, his screams, the fire. He had tried to forget.

efore he could lift it to his lip

h

Low. Ag

fr

somewhere near

g swollen and pale above the mist. The streets were empty, sil

closer this time. Then

iple

the alleyways, past shuttered windows and flickeri

under his hand. The gra

the far end,

blood splattered across his chest. H

his gun. "Stay

urled-not in fear, but in a grin t

e raw and guttural.

oo strong. The gun went flying. They hit the ground h

les contorting. A snarl erupted as his face e

night as the creature roared-a sound

ature's shoulder. It howled, rearing back-then, just as suddenly as

chest heaving, sta

his own, mingled with the cr

n prickled. His vision blurr

d distant, he heard a wh

se remember

rything w

bruised purple and gold. He was lying on the ch

m had dried to a str

very sound was sharp-the flap of a bird's wings, the rush of

the church window

ng that wasn't entirely human starin

ed, and i

ly. "What the hell i

cross, its black feathers glinting in the sun. It cawed once

where the curs

the ache of determinatio

Black Hollow t

red he was b

p in the forest, a

iti

other had fina