Afraid of wolves (Part1, Wolves, by T.S. Cobbe)

The wind bit at her cheeks, a sharp reminder of the changing season, as Anna tightened her scarf around her neck. The crunch of gravel beneath her boots echoed in the stillness of the evening, each step feeling like a crack in the wall she had built around her past. The air smelled of damp earth and decaying leaves, carrying the distinct chill of early autumn. The trees surrounding her had transformed into a brilliant palette of reds and oranges, leaves fluttering in the breeze, as if nature itself was whispering a promise of change. But no amount of vibrant colour could wash away the dark weight inside her. Some wounds ran too deep for time or distance to heal.

Anna paused before the house. The structure looked almost as tired as she felt—small, with faded wooden beams and an overgrown garden that spoke of neglect. The path leading to the front door was littered with the fallen leaves, their crunch beneath her feet the only sound. A sharp gust made her shiver, and she pulled her coat tighter. Anonymous. Secluded. Safe. The words repeated in her mind, but they felt more like a plea than a reality. She hadn’t come here by choice—she came to escape. To hide.

Her gaze flickered over her shoulder. The road behind her was empty, the village still and quiet. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that her past lingered, invisible yet always present, like a shadow she couldn’t outrun. She forced herself to turn back, step forward. No one here knew about the scars that marred her body, or the nightmares that haunted her sleep. And she intended to keep it that way.

Her fingers rose to her coat collar, brushing the fabric that concealed the jagged lines just under her neck. Even fourteen years later, they felt raw beneath her fingertips. She blinked away the memories, but they clung stubbornly, refusing to fade.

“It’s over,” she whispered to herself, but the words felt hollow, swallowed by the cool wind.

With a shaky sigh, Anna reached for the door and pushed it open. The hinges creaked, the sound sharp in the silence. She stepped inside, the scent of dust and age filling her lungs. The house was cold and barren, the furniture sparse. Boxes lined the walls, yet to be unpacked. She dropped her coat onto a chair by the door, her fingers brushing the rough, weathered wood of the door frame as she walked further in. The silence here was different—heavier, but comforting in its isolation. No echoes from the past, just quiet. She set down her bag and glanced at the small, simple space around her. The silence felt heavy, like it was waiting for something. Sighing, Anna pulled her phone from her pocket. She knew her mum would be worrying, even if she hadn’t said much about her reasons for leaving.

I should let her know I’m okay.

She hesitated for a second, her thumb hovering over the screen before tapping her mother’s name. The familiar weight of guilt pressed down on her chest. She hadn’t told her mother much about this move, only that she needed a fresh start. Even after all these years, Anna struggled with what to share and what to keep hidden.

With a deep breath, she tapped her mother’s name and brought the phone to her ear. The line rang twice before her mother’s warm voice answered.

“Anna, sweetheart! Did you get there okay?”

Anna smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, Mum. I’m here. The house is… well, it’s small, but it’ll do.”

“Small is good! Less to clean, right?” Her mother’s laugh crackled through the phone, light and comforting.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Anna glanced around, her eyes lingering on the boxes stacked against the walls. She walked slowly over to the window, looking out into the dark night. “It’s really quiet here. The village is pretty isolated.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? You wanted somewhere peaceful,” her mother replied gently. “Some place where you can rest.”

Anna nodded, though her throat tightened at the word rest. She hadn’t felt rested in years. “Yeah, that’s the plan,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I think I’ll like it here. The neighbours seem friendly, and the place… it feels safe.”

There was a pause on the other end, and Anna could almost hear her mother’s concern despite the distance between them. “I’m glad, Anna. You deserve to feel safe.”

Anna’s grip tightened on the phone, the familiar ache creeping into her chest. She didn’t want to worry her mother, not more than she already had. “I’ll be fine, Mum. Really. I just need time.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” her mother said softly. “But you don’t have to go through everything alone, you know. You can call me anytime. Day or night.”

“I know.” Anna forced a smile, though her voice wavered. “I’ll be fine. I just need to settle in and… get used to things.”

“Take it easy on yourself, Anna. There’s no rush.”

The weight of her mother’s words settled in her chest, but instead of comfort, they only reminded her how far she had yet to go. “I will,” she promised, though it felt more like a lie than the truth.

“Okay, honey. I love you. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Love you too, Mum.”

As she hung up, the silence of the house returned, heavier than before. Anna leaned against the window frame, staring out at the empty street. She pressed the phone to her chest, breathing deeply as if she could somehow absorb the strength from her mother’s words. But the quiet still weighed heavily on her, as though the shadows of her past lurked just outside the door.

When she explored the house, her gaze found the mirror propped against the far wall, its surface fogged with dust. She stared at her reflection, her features illuminated by the soft yellow glow of the lamp. Dark hair pulled back, skin pale, eyes hollow. She barely recognized herself any more. The scarf, loose jumper and thick pants she wore hung off her frame, chosen carefully to hide every inch of her skin.

But even here, alone, she couldn’t hide from herself. Her hand moved to the top button of her blouse, her breath hitching as she undid it, revealing the twisted lines of her scars. The deep grooves from claws and teeth stood out in stark relief, a brutal reminder of the night that changed everything. She swallowed the rising tide of panic, forcing herself to look away.

A sudden knock at the door made her freeze. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as her fingers clutched the fabric of her blouse. She stared at the door, breath quickening. It was late—who could it be? Her mind raced, the fear she had buried rising quickly to the surface. What if…? No. That wasn’t possible. They wouldn’t have followed her here.

Forcing herself to breathe, Anna cautiously moved to the door and pulled it open a crack. An older woman stood on the other side, bundled in a thick coat, her kind eyes crinkling into a smile.

“Good evening, dear. I’m Sophia Harris,” the woman said warmly, though her voice carried a hint of curiosity. “I live just down the road and heard someone new had moved in. I saw the light from the window and thought I’d come by to introduce myself. Please, just call me Sophia. Mrs. Harris makes me feel old,” she added with a friendly smile.

Anna’s shoulders sagged with relief, though her heart still beat a little too fast. A neighbour, not a threat. She smiled weakly, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Thank you. I’m Anna… Anna Hawthorne.”

Sophia beamed, her smile wide and genuine. “Welcome, Anna. I just wanted to say hello and let you know that if you ever need anything, we’re all quite friendly around here. It’s a quiet village—nothing much happens, which I suppose is what you’re after.”

Anna nodded, her throat tight. “Yes, quiet is precisely what I need.”

The older woman’s eyes twinkled with understanding. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I won’t keep you, but it's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you’ll settle in nicely.” With a small wave, she turned and disappeared into the night.

Anna closed the door and leaned her forehead against it for a moment. The thudding in her chest slowly quieted, but the lingering fear still hovered just beneath the surface. She had been running for so long that she wasn’t sure she could ever stop looking over her shoulder.

Letting out a breath, she pulled herself away from the door and walked further into the living room. Her fingers brushed lightly against the cold walls as she moved, grounding herself in the present. She’d unpack tomorrow. There was no rush—she had time to build something here. Something that wasn’t touched by the darkness of her past.

But the distant sound of a wolf’s howl cut through the silence, stopping her in her tracks. Her body tensed, her breath catching in her throat. She stood frozen, listening to the faint echo that seemed to ripple through the night air. The memories came rushing back, unbidden and sharp. The fear, the agony of that night. The wolves had never truly left her. They had marked her in more ways than one.

Her hands trembled as she closed her eyes, trying to push the images away. This was a new beginning, she reminded herself. A new village. A new life.

Here, she would be safe.

At least, she hoped so.