Mama Provides

Winter came early to Oakhaven. The snow piled up against the windows of Holloway House, sealing it in a tomb of white.

The power had gone out three days ago. The house was freezing.

Elena sat in her rocking chair by the cold fireplace. She was skeletal now. Her skin was translucent, stretched tight over her cheekbones. She hadn't eaten in a week.

The pack lay around her. They were sluggish, conserving heat. They were massive, magnificent monsters, filling the room with their musky scent.

The Sheriff lasted them two weeks. Then they ate the leather furniture. Then they ate the drywall.

Now, there was nothing left.

The Alpha rested its heavy head on Elena’s lap. It looked up at her. The mimicry had stopped days ago. They didn't need voices anymore. They just needed meat.

Elena looked down at her hands. They were trembling. She looked at the Alpha. In the dim light, she didn't see a monster. She saw the only thing that had stayed. The only thing that needed her.

"Are you hungry, baby?" she whispered.

The Alpha whined. It nudged her hand with its nose.

Elena looked at the fireplace poker. She could try. She could try to fight them. But she was so tired. And outside, there was nothing but snow and silence and the memory of a husband who was never coming back.

Here, she had a purpose. Here, she was Mama.

She pulled up the sleeve of her nightgown, exposing her thin, pale arm.

"It's okay," she said, tears freezing on her cheeks. "Mama’s here. Mama provides."

She offered her arm to the Alpha’s waiting jaws.

The creature didn't hesitate. It didn't mimic love this time. It simply opened its mouth, the rows of serrated teeth gleaming in the dark, and clamped down.

Elena gasped, a sharp intake of breath that turned into a sob. As the pain hit, white and blinding, she leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes, listening to the wet, tearing sounds of her children eating, grateful that for the first time in two years, she wasn't alone.