Issue 1.2: Growing Closer to Maria

You and Maria spend more time together, bonding over shared interests and conversations at school. You both love horror novels with dog-eared pages, old black-and-white creature features with grainy VHS quality, and the gory brilliance of classic slashers.

You both agree that The Thing is a masterpiece, that the first Halloween’s tension is unmatched, and that no modern horror CGI monster can compare to the raw, practical effects of the ‘70s and ‘80s.

“You ever notice how the best horror monsters aren’t just mindless beasts?” Maria muses one afternoon, twirling a strand of her dark brown hair around her finger as you sit on the bleachers after school. The sun casts long shadows across the football field, painting her skin in gold. “They’ve got personality. Like the Predator, it’s not just killing for fun. It’s hunting.”

You grin, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, but nothing beats a good slasher. There’s something poetic about a guy in a hockey mask stalking teens who made bad life choices.”

Maria laughs, the sound rich and warm. “You’re such a romantic.”

“Only for you,” you reply without thinking, and her smile softens, her silver eyes flickering with something deeper than amusement.

As you spend time together, you grow closer to Maria and realize you are falling deeper and deeper in love with her.

The Trents live next door, so it’s only natural that you start walking to school together. The mornings become something you look forward to: knocking on their front door, the way Maria’s face lights up when she sees you, the way she lingers for just a second too long before stepping outside.

“Good morning, Mister Trent,” you say to her uncle politely as Maria grabs her backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. John Trent stands in the doorway, a towering figure with shoulders that seem to block out the sunlight. He’s wearing a black t-shirt stretched tight over his massive frame, the short sleeves revealing forearms corded with veins.

“Mornin’,” John rumbles, his voice rough like gravel. He looks down at you, his gaze sharp and assessing. “You’re Bennet, right?”

“Bennet Talbot,” you correct, extending a hand. John’s grip is crushing, his palm calloused. You try not to wince, aware that this man isn’t just Maria’s uncle; he’s also her legal guardian, the one who raised her after her mother’s ****. You want to make a good impression.

John nods once, then steps back inside without another word. The door shuts behind him, leaving you and Maria alone on the porch.

“He’s not much of a talker,” Maria says, shrugging. She adjusts the silver choker around her neck, a habit you’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous or distracted. You’ve always assumed it’s just an accessory, something to match her edgy style: tight white tank tops that cling to her curves, ripped jeans that hug her hips, and the way her midriff is always bare, showing off her cute navel.

“He seems intense,” you say, falling into step beside her as you start down the sidewalk.

Maria smirks. “That’s one word for it. Uncle John had it pretty rough growing up. His dad, my grandfather, was an alcoholic piece of shit. He beat his mom, my grandmother Sarah, to **** when John was thirteen. John had to grow stronger, lifting weights, so he could protect my mom, Tessa.”

“Damn,” is all you can say after learning about Maria’s uncle.

Maria continues, “My uncle then served in the army, three tours in Afghanistan, then a few years as a Navy SEAL. He was with me and my mom when... after my mom died, my uncle became my legal guardian, and we moved here together.”

“I understand,” you nod, wondering how to comfort her.

Your conversations on the walk to school become a regular thing. You dissect the latest horror releases, debate the best kill scenes, and share your favorite obscure films.

“Did you watch that new slasher, Cornfield Massacre?” Maria asks one morning, nudging your shoulder with hers. “The one with the twist ending?”

“Yeah, the twist was great,” you say, shaking your head. “I did not see that coming. When the killer turned out to be—”

“Don’t spoil it!” Maria laughs, swatting your arm playfully. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckle, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, you’ll love it. It’s got that same vibe as the first Friday the 13th.”

Maria’s eyes sparkle. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

At school, you meet up with your friends: Jake, the class clown with a knack for getting into trouble; Tyler, the quiet but observant tech geek; and Lisa, the sharp-witted skeptic who doesn’t believe in anything that can’t be dissected in a lab. They’re your usual crew, and today, the topic of conversation is the same as it’s been all week: the rumors swirling around town.

“Did you hear about the beast in the woods?” Jake asks, leaning in conspiratorially as you all gather around your usual lunch table. “Some guy swears he saw a giant wolf on the night of the full moon. Like, the size of a fucking truck.”

Tyler snorts, adjusting his glasses. “Yeah, and I saw Bigfoot drinking a latte at the gas station. Doesn’t mean it’s real.”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “People in this town will believe anything if it makes their boring lives more interesting.”

You glance at Maria, who’s quietly listening, her expression unreadable. “It’s probably just a coyote or something,” you say, though the way she bites her lip makes you wonder if she knows more than she’s letting on.

Jake grins. “Or it’s the Silverbrook Slayer. Maybe we’ve got our own urban legend in the making.”

Tyler pulls out his phone, already typing. “I’m Googling it. ‘Giant wolf Oregon full moon’—”

“You won’t find anything,” Lisa says, stealing a fry from Jake’s tray. “Because it’s not real. It’s just small-town gossip.”

Maria finally speaks up, her voice light but edged with something you can’t quite place. “Or maybe it’s real, and no one wants to believe it because that would mean something other than the ordinary finally happened here.”

The table falls silent for a beat. Then Jake bursts out laughing. “Man, I hope it is real. Imagine if we had our own supernatural mystery. Tourists would flock here.”

You smile, but your gaze lingers on Maria. There’s a glint in her silver eyes, something knowing, almost cautious.

For now, though, it’s just rumors. Tall tales in a town where nothing interesting ever happens.