The snow outside blurred into a white canvas as the train rattled along the frozen tracks. Arya sat beside the window, her eyes half-lidded as frost danced on the glass pane. Isha sat next to her, clutching a thermos of coffee, the tension between them palpable, not from conflict but anticipation.
They were returning to the place that had changed everything.
Arya's fingers absentmindedly traced the curve of her neck where the bite mark had once flared under moonlight. Since the night she saw the vision, her dreams had grown more vivid—more real. The curse, the wolf, the golden eyes… it was no longer just a nightmare. It was her truth.
As the train curved past a frozen valley, Arya's body stiffened. Her pupils dilated. Time seemed to stretch.
She was no longer on the train.
In her vision, snowflakes fell like ash. A silver moon burned high above a glacial landscape. There, in the middle of the clearing, he stood. The man with wild dark hair, golden eyes, and a presence that seemed carved out of the very mountains.
"You came back," his voice rumbled through the night like an ancient song. "But not whole. Not yet."
"Who am I to you?" Arya asked, her breath visible, heart pounding.
"You are the only one who ever chose me, even when nature said no. Each time, I find you again. Each time, you forget. And each time, I die a little more waiting for you to remember."
His eyes softened, and Arya stepped forward, drawn to him like a tide to the moon.
"I see flashes," she whispered. "But it's like looking through fog."
"The curse feeds on forgetfulness. But not forever. You're awakening again. This time, we're running out of chances."
His hand reached for hers. Just before their fingers touched, Arya jerked awake with a sharp inhale.
Back on the train.
"Arya?" Isha asked, concern etched on her face.
"I saw him again," Arya murmured. "He remembers everything. I don't. But... I need that tape recovered. I feel like it holds the parts of me I've lost."
By the time they arrived at the town, night had swallowed the sky. The familiar chill wrapped around them like a warning. Snow crunched beneath their boots as they made their way to the same wooden cabin, its roof buried under layers of white.
Arya stood in the doorway for a moment, staring into the dark interior, the smell of pine and frost greeting her. Isha brushed past her with a nervous chuckle.
"Déjà vu much?"
"No," Arya said. "This time, we're here for answers."
That night, Arya lay awake on her bed, eyes fixed to the ceiling. Every creak of the wooden walls felt like a whisper. Somewhere outside, a wolf howled faintly, and she felt her mark throb again.
Morning came with an eerie silence. The two girls dressed in heavy jackets, gloves, and snow boots. Arya packed a journal, a flashlight, and a pendant she had found in her drawer the day after the last vision—one that she instinctively felt was connected to him.
They entered the woods just after sunrise. The trees, tall and bare, stood like sentinels in mourning. Snow fell lightly, the air thick with silence.
"Why do I feel like we're not supposed to be here?" Isha asked, looking over her shoulder.
"Because we're not," Arya replied. "But that's exactly why we must be."
They walked for an hour, the path narrowing, frost thickening on the trees. The silence was so loud that every breath felt intrusive.
Suddenly, a shuffle of snow.
From behind an old birch, an elderly man stepped out. His face was wrinkled like cracked bark, and his eyes held storms.
"You seek things buried for a reason," he rasped.
Arya stepped forward, firm. "What do you know about the werewolf in these forests?"
He glanced at the pendant around her neck, then at the mark just visible below her scarf.
"Don't play with the past," he said. "Or the future will bleed for it."
Isha tensed beside Arya. "He's real, isn't he?"
The old man nodded slowly. "A beast who once defied the natural order. His love became his curse. Now, he waits under every moon for her to return... and she always forgets. But this time, she is close. Too close."
He turned without another word and disappeared into the snow.
Despite the warning, Arya pressed deeper into the forest. The trees grew thicker. The snow, deeper. The light dimmed even though it was midday.
Hours passed. Isha grew silent, exhaustion etched into her face.
"Arya… this place feels heavier than last time. Like it's holding its breath. I don't know if it's the cold or something else, but… did you feel anything? Any vision or… that strange pull again? You've been quiet since we stepped in. Don't shut me out this time. If something's coming—if he's coming—I need to know. Because whatever this is, it's not normal, Arya. And I have a really bad feeling that we're not supposed to be here. So please, just tell me… are you seeing anything? Is he watching us right now?"
Arya replied "No,Isha… nothing's going the way I thought it would. I came here hoping to find answers, to connect the pieces—those dreams, the mark, him. But it's like the forest is hiding everything from me this time. I can't feel the pull, no whispers, no visions… just silence. It's like he's avoiding me. Or maybe… I'm not supposed to remember more yet. I thought I'd feel closer to the truth by now, but instead, I feel more lost than ever. And it scares me. Because if I can't find the truth here… where else do I even begin?"
"Arya... are we going in circles?" Isha asked
Arya stopped and looked around. Every tree did look the same now. The forest had shifted around them, or maybe they'd crossed some line without realizing it.
"No signal," Isha said, checking her phone. "And we've seen that rock three times now."
Arya's confidence faltered for a moment, but she swallowed the fear. "We're not lost. We're just... where we're meant to be."
They continued walking until the sky began to dim.
Night was falling.
And with it came the cold. A deeper cold that seemed to bite through layers.
They were completely lost and finding desparately for shelter, fog of snow maintained the presence of something ancient, the snowy forests turned majestic to horror.
"We need to find shelter," Isha said, teeth chattering.
But before Arya could respond—
Hoooowwwlll.
The sound shattered the silence. It echoed through the mountains, low, guttural, and haunting. Not the howl of a regular wolf. It was deeper. Older. Mourning. Calling.
Isha froze. Arya turned toward the sound.
"He's here," she whispered.
Up on a distant snow-covered hill, a massive shadow appeared against the moonlight. A beast, tall as a bear, with sleek silver fur and glowing golden eyes. It didn't growl. It didn't charge. It just stood, watching.
Then—another howl.
The forest seemed to bend toward it, as if paying respect.
Arya clutched the pendant and stepped forward a single pace.
"It's him. He's watching us."
The golden eyes blinked once.
And then it vanished.
The night swallowed its presence, but its echo remained in Arya's bones.
"Isha," Arya said, voice firm. "This isn't the end. This... is just the beginning."