Earlier, while I was at work, Ronnie asked me “You’ve heard of the wolves, haven’t you? I never see you with them.” I thought it was nonsense, and I had better things to think about, so I lied, “Yeh, I just don’t care,” and paid it no mind. He’s been talking to me a lot more since last Monday. I don’t mind. He’s surprisingly fun to talk to. It’s better than working in silence all day.

Later, Sara came to pick me up from work. She won’t let me drive myself while my arm is “still healing.” Why do human bones have to take so bloody long to heal?

As soon as Sara pulled into the driveway I went to get out of the car, but she put her hand over mine. Her hands are extremely warm, and mine are always cold. Under any other circumstance I’d yank my hand away, but this time I was okay with it. I looked back at her, and she was staring at her feet.

“‘S right quiet at night.” She muttered. I barely understood her as she choked out her words.

“‘S too quiet. I don’t like bein’ alone in me head like that.” I nodded and sat back down. I usually don’t find myself agreeing with her. She looked up at me and stared. Her mouth hung open like she was trying desperately to speak. She sighed, closed her eyes, and looked back to her feet.

“Can you sleep with me tonight?” She asked quietly. She gripped my hand tight.

I was frozen. It was an easy question to answer, all I had to say was yes. So, why couldn’t I? It took me so long to answer. We sat in silence for so long. I couldn’t speak until she started to apologise, at which point I interrupted her. I think I yelled. I’m not sure, because she looked scared at first, but her face quickly brightened up. My entire body became warm. I’m not sure why.

Now I’m in her bed, facing away from her. She’s asleep, facing away from me. It’s quiet. I hate the quiet. It leaves me alone in my head to overthink everything. I usually just go to sleep or use my phone when it’s this quiet, but I’m not tired, and I can’t sit on my phone for long before the silence creeps back in and gets me back to thinking.

What did Ronnie mean? What the hell are the Wolves? There aren’t any wolves in England, are there? Why couldn’t I speak earlier? I’ve never had trouble speaking before. I knew what I was trying to say, I just couldn’t bloody say it. Was I choking on something and didn’t realise it? It felt like it.

Everything around me is so weird lately. I think it’s all starting to make me weird. Now, all of the sudden, I’m thinking about things I would’ve written off as stupid a few weeks ago. Everyone around me seems to feel so many things. Why is it that all I’ve ever felt is "hungry" and "tired"? God, that’s so dumb. That’s the dumbest thought I’ve ever had, but I can’t get it out of my goddamn head now.

…

I pick my phone up off of the night stand and go straight to my browser. I open a private tab and go to the monster forum that I use a lot, and try to find anything about wolves in York. The Yorkshire Wolves. Apparently they’re an organisation of monsters that help keep its members down low and out of trouble. Monsters in the organisation only talk about it using vague statements.

A lot of monsters are saying that they think the Wolves are working with the government, but that sounds like a conspiracy. Sure enough, it is. Now they’re saying the PM is a monster and is trying to sell out all monsters that aren’t sympathetic to him. I can’t trust any of the information on this forum. At least I know the Wolves exist now. Is Ronnie really a member? This sounds like some secret agent shit, I can’t imagine Ronnie has that in him.

Ronnie can’t drive. If he is a member, they probably have a base somewhere in Fifelthorpe… Goddammit. Why do I have to go back there?

I carefully get out of bed and slip back into my pants and a hoodie. I’m not sure how heavy Sara sleeps, so I do everything in my power to make as little noise as possible. I slowly creep up the stairs out of the basement bedroom, and make my way out of the sliding door in the den. Surely they do business at night. An organisation like that can’t work in broad daylight.

I have to run almost all the way around Fifelthorpe. The shop is in the residential district. Fifelthorpe Fits. The front door is probably closed and locked, so I walked all the way around to the back and, sure enough, the door is open. Still, I knock. I don’t want to get choke slammed again.

I hear someone walk up to the door. After a moment, Muffins opens the door and looks at me. Their eyes widen and they slam the door. I hear them stomp away. This was a waste of my time. Why the fuck did I think I should do this. I should have just gone to—they open the door again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” They ask in a whispered yell. Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.

“I want to know about the Wolves.” I respond, prompting their face to scrunch up.

“What does someone like you want to know about us?”

I think I made a face, because they immediately looked like she said something wrong. I guessed right!

“Fucker. Fuck you. I fucking hate you.” They open the door wider and step to the side. “Come inside before someone sees you.”

I hesitate a little bit, as I feel like I'm being invited into a lion's den, but I ultimately oblige. They slam the door behind me and point to… Something. The room is pitch black, and I can barely see. I've never been the nocturnal type.

"I wanna follow you. I can't see well in the dark," I admit. Muffins turns to look at me, but I can't see their face. They begin muttering curses at me again as they turn towards where they pointed.

We end up descending a flight of stairs, at the bottom of which is a light switch that they flick on. There's a desk covered with financial documents and file folders, and there are a few chairs sitting around, which Muffins commands me to sit in. I don't like being bossed around all too much, but I'm already treading water being here in the first place, so I sit.

They walk behind the desk, take a seat in a somewhat fancy looking office chair, and begin talking. They explain to me how the Wolves of Yorkshire are a loosely connected group-of-groups of monsters whose overall goal is to bridge the gap betweens monsters and humanity, as well as helping monsters live with relatively little guilt about who they feed on.

I don’t understand guilt. I never have. They explained that members are given a feeding list from which they can feed. The feeding list is carefully curated by high ranking members of the wolves, who constantly scout the local community for “bad actors.” The dredges of human society. Paedophiles, rapists, child abusers, drunk drivers, overall good-for-nothing deadbeats. Funnily enough, that describes nearly every human being I’ve ever eaten. Coincidences like that are kinda cool.

“I kinda already feed like that anyway. This just makes it easier.” I think aloud.

“Exac—What?” Muffins cuts themself off. “What th fuck do you mean already feed like that?”

“It keeps people off my tail if nobody cares when they’re gon—”

“No, I know that, but you’re a cattler.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve never thought about cattling until recently. It’s too much work for me.”

“Then why do it now, dipshit?”

“Golden opportunity.”

“You sick fuck…” Muffins began getting up from the table, probably to choke slam me again, but they stopped themself. They sighed. “Get the fuck out of here. We don’t welcome sickos.”

I shrug. Fine by me. As long as I know what’s going on, I don’t care if I’m excluded. I almost say that, but I feel like keeping tight lips right now might just save my life.

…

I make it back to the house at about 2 in the morning. I quietly shut the den’s screen door and take off my shoes. I go back downstairs. Sara is still sound asleep. She looks peaceful, far more so than when she’s awake. I return my jeans and socks to the clothes hamper and sit down on the side of the bed. I hear a stirring, and my heart almost stops.

“Madison…?” Sara groans. My heart stops. At least, it feels like it did. “What’s up? What time is it?”

“I had to go to the bathroom.” I quickly sputter out. Sara is silent for what feels like an eternity.

“Oh, alright.” She said groggily. She sounded convinced. Terrified and half-dead from shock, I lay back down. Before I can turn on my side, Sara throws her arm over me and nestles her head onto my shoulder. She’s so warm. She makes my entire body warm. I can’t move. This is the same feeling. The same feeling from earlier is overtaking my body, keeping me from doing anything.

“Goodnight, Madison…” She slurs. I feel… Comfortable. The most comfortable I’ve ever felt in my life. I’m too tired to think about what this means. All I can think about is going to sleep. Now that I think about it, this is the fastest I’ve ever fallen asleep in my life. I could get used to it.