The small, yellow hatchback's engine groaned and sputtered as it was pushed to its maximum. Emma was doing twenty above the limit and a few times she'd nearly careened off the side of the road and into a ditch. These were the kinds of roads where people died. Swerving country lanes with no streetlights and tight, sudden corners which overhung stomach-churning drops. She was usually a cautious driver, always staying wary of speed cameras and making sure she followed the traffic laws.
But desperate times and all that...
Dylan was sprawled lengthways in the backseat. He was whimpering and moaning, and occasionally he'd spasm in pain and let out an awful, shrill scream that made her stomach clench in fear.
'It's okay, it's okay,' she said, not daring to turn around. 'We're nearly there. Okay? Just hold on for a little while longer... can you do that?'
In response, Dylan yelled something incomprehensible and ugly and convulsed violently. He'd ripped his t-shirt open. His heaving chest was shiny with sweat.
'Please, j-just hold on a while longer.' She tightened her grip on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned bone white. In the rearview mirror the sun was disappearing behind the horizon. The sky darkened, turning a light grey. Dylan sat up, his face a painful contortion in the mirror's reflection. His usual blue eyes had become a golden amber and the pupils were dilated.
'Stop here,' he murmured, 'let me out...'
'No, we're nearly there. I can... I can see it.' Up ahead was an overgrown gravel path leading to a dilapidated barn. She yanked the wheel left and turned the car down onto the path, smashing through the remains of a "KEEP OUT" warning sign. She pressed her foot down, the engine sounded close to death.
'You need to get away from me, Emma. I don't wanna hurt you... please, just let me out and get as far away from here as you can.'
'I'm not leaving you, Dylan. Okay? So just shut up and hold on.'
He roared, ripping off what remained of his t-shirt. 'LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!' His voice was a wild and feral growl. 'Let me out, you bitch! You dumb fuckin' whore!' He jerked and wrenched side to side, smashing himself into the doors and windows of the small hatchback. The car rattled and swayed under his violent movements. 'You slut! Do you want me to fucking kill you?'
Emma knew he didn't mean it. She knew it wasn't him talking. It was the Other. Dylan, the boy who'd been her best and closest friend since they'd been in nursery school together, would never say such horrible things to her. And tomorrow, when he was himself again, he'd feel awful, and spend the next month apologising.
His breathing laboured and he curled up on the seat. His vulgar outburst might've bought them a couple more minutes. He held his knees up to his chin and rocked back and forth, like a scared child.
The barn came into full view, silhouetted against the darkening sky. The structure was old and weathered, with large gaps in the walls where planks had rotted away. Emma slammed the brakes, sending the car into a skidding stop just feet from the barn's entrance. The tyres crunched over the gravel. She killed the engine and turned to face Dylan, her heart pounding.
'Dylan, we're here. Come on, we need to get you inside,' she said, her voice trembling. She unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped out of the car, running to the backseat door.
His eyes were wide and fierce. Emma took his arm and draped it over her shoulder, then helped him to his feet. Dylan staggered out of the car, leaning heavily on Emma. His body was trembling, every muscle taut with the struggle against his Other. She could feel his heartbeat racing through the arm draped over her shoulder. The cool evening air was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his feverish skin.
'Come on, just a bit further, you can do this.' she whispered, more for herself than him.
They stumbled towards the barn, the gravel crunching loudly under their feet. Emma shoved the creaky door open with her shoulder, and they stepped into the cool, musty interior. The scent of hay and damp wood filled her nostrils. The interior of the barn was as decaying as the exterior. Piles of rotting hay and broken farming equipment littered the floor. In the centre was a makeshift bed of old pillows and moth-eaten blankets. Around it, four wooden posts had been hammered into the ground. Each of these had thick leather restraints attached to them.
'Nearly there, Dylan. Just a little bit more,' she urged, laying him down on the blankets, his body writhing in agony. Her hands trembled as she fastened the leather straps around his wrists and ankles. Dylan cried out in agony and the veins on his neck bulged. His head of black, wavy hair was a mess and damp with sweat and his chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. Emma pulled the restraints as tight as she could. She knew they hurt him, but she also knew it was necessary to keep him, her, and anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby safe.
'There. All done,' she said shakily. She wanted to cry. Weep like a baby. She wouldn't though. She had to be strong, for both of them. 'It's okay, you're safe now. You're not gonna hurt anyone.'
'T-thank you,' he said. 'I don't... I don't what I'd do without you--' He screamed out in pain, his body twisting and thrashing. He yanked on the restraints. The wooden posts creaked but held.
'You can get through this,' Emma said. 'You've done it before, you'll do it again.' She leaned over him and cupped his face in her hands. 'And I'm gonna be here for you, okay? Through it all, I'm gonna be right here.' She tenderly brushed his hair out of his eyes, almost like a mother would.
'You don't have to,' he said, clenching his teeth. Speaking was obviously becoming difficult. 'You can... you can go if you want.'
'It's okay. What are friends for if not this?' she said and smiled.
He chuckled dryly. 'Friends...' He looked at her with regret. His eyes were now a bright, vibrant amber. 'Emma, there's something... there's something I'd like to tell you... I... I--'
Dylan screamed again. This time, it wasn't just a scream. It was a loud, guttural howl that seemed to shake the whole barn. Emma, in shock, fell backwards onto her arse. Her ears rang and her throat tightened.
This was it. The Other had awoken from its slumber and was ready to be let out.
Though she'd witnessed Dylan's transformation countless times now, it never got any easier, and it never any less terrifying. As his body began to contort and twist in unnatural ways, as his bones snapped, cracked, and reshaped under his skin, she couldn't help but feel a cold, stony shiver run down her spine. His screams became wild, animalistic growls, and his fingers tore at the air, morphing into something bestial and clawlike. The sight of Dylan in such pain made her heart ache, because somewhere, hidden in those awful sounds, was her best friend. Down in the depths of the beast, he was still there, scared and in pain. And there was nothing she could do to help.
Emma backed away, her eyes wide with horror. She had to stay. She had to make sure the restraints held. The leather straps squeaked and groaned under the strain; they held fast. Dylan's screams turned into deep snarls, and his eyes, now fully golden, locked onto hers with a mixture of agony and animalistic hunger.
Then, his face started to change, morphing, elongating, and stretching into a canine snout. As this transformation unfolded, tufts of blackish-grey fur began to force themselves through his torn skin in clusters all over his body. His limbs grew longer, and his muscles swelled and expanded. His jeans ripped at the seams, as did his shoes, revealing a pair of large, paw-like feet.
