C1 Lyra Ashwinter

It was a bitter January night. Along a Montana highway, a black Ford was heading toward the lonely, strange town of Devils Wept.

The driver who drove the Ford—was a huge bald man. Sitting comfortably behind him, was a young girl of eighteen years. She was dressed in all black. Beside her lay a big black duffel bag. She sat still, staring right ahead, into the windshields.

This girl—this cold-looking girl—was Lyra AshWinter. She is the younger and only sister of Jackul Ashwinter—the deadliest wolf hunter in America. She was on a deadly mission to end the wolves terrorizing the town of Devils Wept.

Suddenly, a large roadside signpost appeared out of the darkness as the Ford headlights shone on it.

The huge driver stepped hard on the brakes.

“Why the hell did you stop?” Lyra snapped.

“There!” The driver cried out, his gloved finger trembling as he pointed at the big signpost through the snowy, dimmed windshields. “Can’t you see it? What the hell does that even mean?”

The fear from the driver’s body reached out to Lyra from where she sat in the backseat. It irritated her.

With an impatient sigh, she leaned forward in her seat. Her eyes, following the driver's trembling finger, looked through the windshields.

And that’s when she saw what had gotten him so scared—a big signpost. But it wasn’t the size of the signpost itself that caused the fear. It was the way the pickup's headlights had screamed out the harshly carved words on the signpost.

The words were written with blood—it read:

“Welcome To Devils Wept — Where the Beasts Collect Their Dues.

The beasts here walk like men. Visitors vanish without a trace. Locals don’t talk. Stay the fuck out. You are warned.”

It was so chillingly written, especially with the blood, that even Lyra, despite how tough she was, a slight shiver ran through her body. In all her young, wild wolves-hunting days, she had never seen anything like this before.

The driver said to her.

“It’s not my business to tell you about your business, Miss Ashwinter. But I’ve got a bad feeling about this place. Let us turn back.”

Lyra took off her dark glasses.

“What do you mean we should turn back?” she demanded.

“Don’t you see?” The driver said breathlessly. “This town is bad news. And those words on that signpost are all you need to know about the kind of town this place is.”

“Conrad! Drive on! We are not turning back!”

Conrad was the name of the driver, and his eyes had grown round with fear.

“Miss Ashwinter! This town is not a nice place, especially for a young woman like you. Please think about this. I can offer to talk to Mr Ashwinter on your behalf. He’ll understand. Let’s go back. Please.”

There was desperation in his voice.

“You want to call my brother? You want us to go back after we’ve driven all the way here?” She fired at him, astonished at his words. “Have you gone mad?”

The driver babbled.

“I’m not mad, Miss Ashwinter. Just scared, that’s all. I’ll do all the driving. You don’t have to worry.”

“And if we go back home, what do you want to tell my brother? That some words on a fucking signpost got you so scared you had to run back home? Is that what you wanna tell him?”

“Mr Ashwinter will understand. I’m pretty sure he will,” Conrad pleaded, looking scared as hell.

“Conrad! Will you fucking drive?”

“Miss Ashwinter…” he began.

She cut him short.

“Drive, man! You are wasting goddamn time!” She snapped impatiently, her eyes sparkling at him.

The hard whiteness of her face and fierceness in her voice sent fear into the driver.

Trembling, he quickly turned back to the wheels. The car key fell from his shaking hands. He feverishly picked up the car keys and fired up the car.

After a few moments, he got the pickup moving on the rough road and they drove off from the bloody signpost.

Conrad drove on expertly. He seemed to have gotten over his fears now, and the pickup rolled smoothly on the road.

When he drove into the town of Devils Wept, finally, they didn’t see anything in the thick snowy darkness at first. Everywhere was terribly dark.

Later, as he drove on, they began to see faint light from the houses lining both sides of the road.

“We are in Devils Wept, Miss Ashwinter. Where do you want me to stop?” Conrad called back to her.

“Give me a moment, please.”

Lyra dug her hands into her pockets and brought out her iPhone. She turned it on and clicked the Google GPS.

She slid her fingers on the screen for some time and finally grunted with satisfaction.

“You can stop at the next bar. It's called The Big Red. It’s not too far now. Keep your eyes sharp so you don’t miss it.”

“Okay, Miss Ashwinter.” Conrad nodded, reducing the pickup speed.

A few minutes later, a bar with the neon lights “Big Red Bar” appeared out of the darkness.

Conrad pulled up right in front of the bar and cut the engine.

“Here we are, Miss Ashwinter.”

Lyra grunted. She picked up her duffel bag and slid out of the car. She slammed the door shut.

She turned to Conrad. He was looking at her, fear in his eyes.

She said to him:

“Let me talk to the bartender here. Maybe I can get some information I can use.”

She paused and went on.

“Find somewhere for us to stay for the night, Conrad. Text me when you settle in. Don’t call. Just text. Now get outta here.”

He nodded fearfully at her and drove away.

Then she turned toward the bar, staring up at the building.

And that was when she heard it—The howling.

A terrifying, deep-throated howl that echoed through the cold, empty darkness.