Iván walked beside Allison, the silence stretching between them. He hasn't talked to her much at school, but tonight felt different. Finally, he spoke up.
"So… you were with Scott?"
She nodded, her jacket pulled tight against the cold, the outfit underneath still managing to look effortlessly stunning. Then she glanced at him, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"Wait—how did you know I was with someone?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "I never told you I was going with anyone to the party."
Iván's stomach twisted. Crap. She never actually told him she was with Scott.
"I, uh… saw him leave you at the party," he lied, hoping she wouldn't push further.
A small smile tugged at Allison's lips as she tilted her head.
"Well, at least someone knows how to be a gentleman."
Iván smirked back, the tension easing as they strolled side by side.
Shifting the conversation, he asked, "So… your dad sells guns, right?"
"Yeah," she said, raising an eyebrow. "What about it?"
Iván grinned. "So, do you happen to know how to shoot one?" he asked.
Allison placed her hands behind her back and nodded. "Yeah, he taught me how to use one."
"Well, if you're up for it, we could hit the firing range sometime. See who's got the better aim. I might not look it, but my mom's got a pretty serious arsenal in our basement."
Her eyes lit up with excitement.
"Wait, really? I'm so down for that," she said, pausing. "You wanna check out my dad's collection? He's got some insane assault rifles."
"Wait, what kind?" Iván asked, intrigued.
Before he knew it, he was at her house, holding an M4A1 Carbine like a pro. All the weird stuff with spirits from earlier? He just shrugged it off. Right now, holding that gun, he felt like he belonged in the military.
Lune's voice echoed in his mind.
"Seeing those military uniforms—you'd look pretty badass in one."
"No kidding," Iván muttered with a grin.
"I've thought about joining the SEALs or Marines. Guns are cool, but swords? They make me feel like a samurai."
"So, Allison, you don't have a firing range here, do you?"
She giggled.
"No, why would you think that?"
Iván's eyes caught something in a back room.
"Because this looks like a small cave… wait, are those grenades?!"
Just then, Chris Argent appeared, leaning against the doorway with arms crossed, his expression sharp.
"Those guns aren't toys, kids."
"Sorry, sir," Iván said, rubbing the back of his neck and setting the weapon back on the rack.
"It's just my mom's has a collection too, but nowhere near as impressive as this."
Chris raised an eyebrow.
"So, you know how to handle guns then?" "Yes. My mom trained me and my sister. Plus karate."
Chris nodded, intrigued.
"Interesting. So, who's your mom?"
"Daniela Vasilios."
Chris muttered under his breath,
"Oh, right. I sold a few things to her once."
Iván blinked, surprised.
"Wait, really? Small world."
Chris smiled and nodded toward Allison.
"You should bring this kid around more often. I'm sure your mother would like him."
Allison leaned back and forth, watching how her dad seemed to like Iván more than the other guy.
"So, what happened to the other kid who took you to that so-called party?" Chris asked, glancing at Iván.
Iván sensed the tension—more like awkwardness—building and decided to make his exit.
"I think I'll head out now," he said quickly, slipping away.
As he left, he couldn't help but think, Wow, those weapons are a beauty he whispers at the night.
Before Iván could walk away, he saw Chris Argent burst out of the house, a gun in hand, moving like he was in a rush.
You're not seriously going to shoot Scott just for ditching Allison… right? he joked, though a chill ran down his spine at the thought.
Just as he turned to leave, Allison stepped out the door, waving.
"Thanks for walking with me!" she called out with a smile.
Iván gave a quick wave in return, then turned his back to her. Now onto the other matter at hand—evil spirits.
"Lune," he muttered, "you've been quiet. Tell me… is my family in danger of them?"
"Mmm… no," the pendant replied. "Your mother seems to have an object that wards off evil spirits."
"Of course she does," Iván sighed.
He found himself standing in the middle of the street, lost in thought.
Should I ask her about it? he wondered. But before he could decide, Lune's voice cut in.
"It's best if no one knows about me. There are people out there that would do anything to get their hands on me."
"Huh? Wait—what do you mean?"
Silence.
He rubbed his head, frustrated. "Whatever."
He turned, ready to head home—when all the streetlights suddenly went out.
Iván froze. A chill ran up his spine.
"Here we go…" Lune said ominously. "I was hoping my beacon would work. And now, my dear master, turn around… and face your monster."
Iván slowly turned. Beyond the edge of the neighborhood, a tall, looming figure stood still. Red eyes glared through the darkness, locked onto him.
Iván stumbled back a step. "What the hell is that?!"
He watched as a cloud of mist escaped his mouth with every shaky breath.
"Oh, hell no—I'm way too Hispanic to be dealing with this kind of crap."
And with that, he bolted.
The creature gave chase, its heavy steps pounding the ground behind him.
"Stop running, you fool!" Lune yelled. "Use my power!"
"What power?!" Iván shouted, panic in his voice. "You're insane! You said 'beacon'—did you call that thing here?!"
"Of course I did—it's a full moon! I thought it was the perfect opportunity to use your magical abilities."
"Are you insane?!" Iván shouted, gasping as he rounded a corner and darted into a narrow alley.
"Listen here—!" Lune started, but Iván was too far gone, running for his life.
Of all things—this is how I'm gonna die?!
Somehow, Iván had ended up in a dead end. And standing there, blocking any escape, was the monster.
Iván's eyes widened in horror. The creature was at least twelve feet tall, its body covered in dark, matted fur. Razor-sharp claws twitched at its sides, and rows of jagged teeth glinted beneath a snarling muzzle. Two pointed ears twitched atop its head.
"A Fucking werewolf!" Iván muttered, breathless.