Ridgeway State University had a way of making even its quiet spaces feel busy. The building Skye had chosen was one of the older ones with brick and worn stone.

  Hannah found it after two wrong turns and a brief, humiliating loop that brought her back to the same bulletin board of flyers she had passed when she had arrived. The lounge itself was tucked at the end of a corridor, half-separated by glass panels and a door that didn’t quite latch unless you pulled it.

  It wasn't a frequent haunt of her or her friends, but over the years, it was a place you would go if you wanted to be left alone and isolated. Easily the most inconvenient lounge to access, and definitely the most poorly maintained.

  Inside the room was calm, in the way libraries pretended to be calm. Soft chatter in low voices, the occasional click of a laptop, the shush of paper as students that wanted to be left alone would come to make sure they were not bothered. A few students occupied the far tables with the intensity of people who had decided to fear their deadlines in public.

  Skye was five minutes late, so Hannah checked her phone. The last text she had sent was: North Wing Study Lounge.

  Which meant Skye was likely running on her own time.

  Hannah slid into a chair near the wall, set her bag at her feet, and let herself take in the space. There were couches that had seen better decades. A corkboard crowded with announcements for tutoring, club meetings, and a flyer advertising “Open Mic Night” that looked like it had been photocopied until it gave up. Near the counter by the window sat a coffee machine with pods and a stack of paper cups, clearly an extra offering to exhausted students.

  Hannah got up and wandered over, mostly because she needed something to do while she waited, and the thought of a liquid sleep booster was appealing.

  She chose a cup, stared at the assortment of pods like they were a personality test, and settled on one that promised a “medium roast” and "Hazelnut" in optimistic font. The machine hummed, whirred, then dispensed the hot liquid like it had no schedule to keep.

  She added a splash of creamer, added a pinch of sugar, thought about it, then added more sugar before taking a cautious sip.

  It was hot. It was drinkable. It was exactly what she expected from a campus coffee station.

  Hannah sat back down and opened her planner, more out of habit than need. Her weekend looked pleasantly blank. Her next shift at Hearth & Leaf was circled in pen. She made a tiny note to buy cat litter on the way home.

  Her eyes thinned, and she looked at her phone again. Ten minutes late. Skye was clearly channeling her "inner wizard". Clearly never late, nor never early.

  She sighed and took another sip of her coffee.

  A few more minutes passed before rushed and heavy footsteps approached the door. Hannah glanced up just as it swung open with unnecessary energy.

  Skye swept in like she was late to a meeting with destiny.

  Hannah leaned back and raised her coffee cup, "Right on time!"

  Sky spotted Hannah, grinned with the kind of bright, feral excitement before beelining across the room. She responded heaving as she caught her breath, "Sorry I am late."

  Her backpack looked heavier than it should’ve been, slung over one shoulder, and her hair, dark with a hint of old dye near the ends, had been shoved up into a messy knot that threatened collapse.

  “Okay,” Skye said, dropping into the chair across from her. “Before you say anything—”

  Hannah gave her a disappointed look, as she brought the coffee cup to her lips, “You mean about how you're late?”

  Skye waved the accusation away as if time were a suggestion. “I’m dramatically timed.” She leaned forward, eyes wide. “Anyway, already apologized. Look! I found it.”

  Hannah blinked. “Found what?”

  Skye’s grin sharpened. “A pattern.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes, “Oh boy… here we go...”

  She didn’t move away when Skye unzipped her backpack and started pulling things out. One after another, the items were distributed across the table with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts. Her laptop, a small spiral notebook, a handful of printed pages, and something that looked suspiciously like a laminated map.

  “Okay,” Skye whispered, as if the lounge might be bugged. “So. You know how everyone jokes about Bigfoot sightings?”

  Hannah sipped her coffee, “Yes.”

  Skye continued, “And you know how they’re always blurry, terrible, and taken from, like, someone’s 2000s Nokia phone?”

  Hannah sounded uncertain, “Yes. Poor composition. Easy to fake. ”

  Skye pointed at her, triumphant. “Exactly. That’s the cover. That’s the cultural camouflage. Because if something real is out there, no one takes it seriously.”

  Hannah lowered her cup. “Skye—”

  Skye slid one of the printed pages toward her. It was a screenshot of a social media post. True to form, it was grainy, badly cropped, and taken at night. Something pale and tall stood between trees, and it appeared more like a suggestion than a shape.

  Hannah tilted her head. “That’s… a branch.”

  Skye insisted, “It’s a shoulder."

  Hannah clarified, “It’s a pine branch.”

  Skye's eyes and lips thinned, before she flipped the print out to another printout. The new screenshot showed a scene with muddy ground and an imprint that could’ve been anything given the proper imagination.

  Hannah squinted. “That could be a deer.”

  Skye responded dryly, “It’s too big for a deer.”

  Hannah corrected herself, “A bear then.”

  Skye scoffed, "Oh my God, it’s too wrong for a bear!” She jabbed a finger at the imprint. "Look at it! It is clearly bigger than what it should be, and you are intentionally avoiding the animal that it looks like."

  She grabbed her note pad, and started flipping pages pointing to notes she had taken, "Besides, it’s not just this. Look, people have been swapping stories for months. Campers hearing heavy footsteps circle their sites. A woman on one forum said something breathed outside her tent all night. No visuals, just sound. Always just out of reach." She clapped her notepad closed, and shook it at Hannah like it was supposed to be important to her, “Look at the depth of it! And other people have been talking. Hunters. Hikers. Another guy swore something was following his truck. I have notes for days on this stuff!"

  Hannah frowned, setting her coffee down. “Skye. Hearing things does not equate a sighting.”

  Skye sat back, affronted. “You haven’t even heard the sounds yet.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes and swallowed more of her coffee, “I have heard plenty of sounds outside my house alone.”

  Skye made an offended noise and pulled up her laptop, fingers flying. She clicked through a folder with the intensity of a detective about to blow the lid off a case. A waveform appeared on-screen, accompanied by a play button.

  “Okay,” Skye said. “Listen... to this.”

  A sound crackled through the laptop speakers. It was a long, distant call that was high and low all at once. It echoed through what Hannah assumed was a forest given the wind and rustling leaves accompanying it. It could’ve been haunting. It could’ve been terrifying.

  It could also, Hannah thought, have been a very large animal.

  Skye paused it and stared at Hannah like she expected applause.

  Hannah blinked. “That’s… an owl.”

  Skye’s jaw dropped. “An owl?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Maybe a boar? You know, if you really wanted to go for a scare factor, you could have gone after one of those "maiden's cries" foxes make. They sound like someone is getting killed.”

  Skye slapped the table softly in frustration. “You watch way too many ghost story debunk videos.”

  Hannah countered, “I watch reality."

  Skye leaned in again, lowering her voice. “Okay, fine. You don’t want to call it a werewolf.”

  Hannah said, “I absolutely do not."

  Skye made a presenting gesture to the documents on the table, "That is a very odd sounding wolf and you know it. So call it a cryptid. Call it an unknown predator. Call it a Bigfoot, or whatever. I don’t care. The point is—” Skye tapped the map. “It’s here. In this area. The sightings cluster. The weird sounds cluster. The dead animals cluster.”

  Hannah’s stomach tightened, but she kept her face neutral. “Animals die in nature, Skye. We have bears, wolves and other predators in this region this is nothing-”

  Skye interrupted, “Not like this. Not this close to trails. Not this close to people. Something’s wrong.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Hannah stared at the map long enough to see what Skye wanted her to see. The map contained circles, pins, lines drawn in different colors, little notes in the margins like ‘possible den?’ and ‘fresh tracks??’ and one that simply said ‘NOPE’ with three underlines.

  “You’ve been busy,” Hannah said carefully, as she arched an eyebrow.

  Skye’s smile softened into something almost tender. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… once you see the pattern, you can’t unsee it, you know?”

  Hannah pointed at the map. “And your plan is… what? To go out there and—”

  Skye’s eyes lit up again. “Camp.”

  Hannah stared. “Camp.”

  “Yes!” Skye said, as if Hannah had finally caught up. “I'm going out in two weeks. We get set up, we listen, we observe. I have supplies. I have—”

  Hannah cut in, “Skye, you’re describing a horror movie.”

  Skye grinned. “A good horror movie. Where the characters aren’t stupid.”

  Hannah’s eyebrows climbed. “You are currently presenting me a laminated map labeled ‘possible den.’”

  Skye opened her mouth, then closed it, then tried again. “Okay, yes. Fine. But hear me out. The super moon is in two weeks.”

  Hannah paused.

  Skye watched her like a gambler who’d just pushed all her chips in. “The super moon,” Skye said, softer now, “is going to be gorgeous. Like, actually gorgeous. And it’s been forever since we did anything outside town like this.”

  Hannah tried not to smile. It didn’t work.

  Skye pounced on the crack in her resistance. “We can just camp. For fun. We can roast marshmallows and argue about... umm... whatever, movies or something. We can take those artsy photos you like. No cryptid hunting. No monster stuff. Just… a weekend camping trip with an amazing photographic vista of the forest and the moon.”

  Hannah exhaled, long and slow. “You’re trying to bribe me to get onboard with a scheme...”

  “I am trying to bribe you with wonder,” Skye corrected.

  Hannah looked down at her planner again, as if it might rescue her. Her weekend was still blank.

  She said, “All right,” and watched Skye’s face light up with victory. “I’ll go camping. For the super moon. That’s it.”

  Skye lifted a hand solemnly. “For the moon.”

  Hannah repeated, “For the moon.”

  Skye smiled, "I mean, if something else sort of... you know... happens..."

  Hannah's eyes thinned, “Skye.”

  She raised her hands up, “Okay, okay. Moon. Purely moon.”

  They both leaned in over the calendar on Skye’s laptop, shoulders nearly touching as dates and blocks of color filled the screen.

  “Okay, so Friday after my last class,” Skye said quickly, her fingers already dragging events around. “We drive up before dark, set up camp, super easy.”

  “How far is ‘up’?” Hannah asked.

  “Not far. Like—” Skye hesitated, then shrugged. “An hour? Hour and a half. Depends on traffic.”

  Hannah frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s a flexible answer,” Skye said cheerfully. “Anyway, Saturday we hike, Sunday we pack up. Simple.”

  “Where are we hiking?”

  Skye waved a hand. “Trails. Forest ones, just a bit up the mountain. So... A little rugged, nothing we haven't done together already.”

  “Marked trails?”

  “Yes,” Skye said, then amended, “Well... Mostly.”

  Hannah slid her finger down the screen. “Who else is going?”

  “Me, you, Caleb, Ethan... Maybe Maya, you know, if she can get off work.”

  Hannah set her coffee cup down and folded her arms, “That’s it?”

  “For now,” Skye said. “I don’t want it crowded. Only reason Maya is going, is because Ethan is going.”

  “What about supplies?” Hannah asked. “Food. Water. First aid.”

  “Ethan's got a list,” Skye said immediately. “Umm… tents, sleeping bags, cooler—Caleb has a stove. Ethan’s bringing his emergency beacon.”

  Hannah paused. “His what?”

  Skye smiled like that was obvious. “You know... A P.L.B... For emergencies. He is prepared?”

  Hannah frowned, "The moon, Skye..."

  Skye raised her hands as if to ward her off, "I know, I know , I know. We are going up in the mountains though, so... It's Ethan. Boy Scout. Always be prepared, you know?"

  Hannah asked, “And if it rains?”

  Skye clicked to another tab. “Weather forecast says clear.”

  Hannah insisted, "This is two weeks out Skye, that is a guess not a plan.”

  Skye tilted her head and spoke dismissively, “Yeah, that’s an optimistic outlook.”

  Hannah sighed, but she didn’t pull away. She kept scanning dates, making mental notes, watching the way Skye’s cursor danced whenever the conversation edged too close to something inconvenient.

  “Okay,” Hannah said slowly. “And where exactly are you planning to set up camp?”

  Skye’s fingers paused for half a second.

  “Near one of the trailheads,” she said. “I’ll show you.”

  She opened a folder on her desktop, clearly intending to pull up another image.

  Hannah leaned closer.

  Her eyes snagged on a filename in the corner of the screen.

  LovePot.txt

  It sat there innocently, like it belonged with homework.

  Hannah stared at it for half a beat. Skye followed her eyes.

  Something in Skye’s expression shifted, but it was too late. Hannah snatched the mouse.

  Skye blurted out, “Don’t—”

  Hannah clicked, and the text document filled the screen.

  Skye lunged for the laptop. “Hannah—stop—please. No! There is context—Stop!”

  Hannah caught her wrist without really thinking about it, and began to read.

  Skye froze.

  Hannah released her and leaned closer, eyes scanning silently for a moment. Her expression shifted into a confused grimace.

  “Okay,” Hannah said finally, exhaling through her nose. “Okay, wow.”

  She scrolled once, deliberately. Then she snorted despite herself. “Oh my God... ‘In a metal cauldron,’” she read aloud. “Or—” her eyes flicked sideways at Skye, “—and I’m quoting here—‘a heat?safe bowl.’ Because those are obviously interchangeable.”

  Skye winced. “It’s symbolic?”

  Hannah scrolled, and then she looked up. “‘Slowly mix...’” Her finger stopped dead. “Pool cleaner?!”

  Skye made a small sound, somewhere between a cough and a protest, "Ehh... chlorine... pool cleaner... You know..."

  “Because chlorine, other chemicals, and heat is not ‘forbidden?!’” Hannah said. “It’s a chemical reaction that comes with fumes! Fumes that—” she squinted, “—yes, that you have notes here, explicitly says ‘do not inhale’.”

  Skye begged, “Hannah, shhhh, please keep it down!”

  Hannah continued to scroll rapidly through the document.

  “Essential oils…,” Hannah read as her eyes thinned.

  “It’s... therapeutic?” Skye said.

  Hannah almost shouted as she presented the screen, "You’re dead!” She then paused as she scrolled back down to her place, “No wait, add ginger, cloves, and black pepper,” Hannah continued. “I guess we’re just salting to taste this right?”

  Skye looked uneasy.

  Hannah didn’t look up. “Sure! Let’s just mix all of these things together until fragrant… Followed immediately by quercetin, whatever the hell that is, and another note, ‘apple sauce, onion juice, and berry compote.’” She paused. “Did you write ‘make it runny.’ or did the hack that wrote this include that note?”

  Skye opened her mouth to reply, lacked the words, and then closed it.

  Hannah scowled and continued scrolling. “There are like… twenty more ingredients in here, SKye!’”

  “Some of those are practical notes,” Skye said defensively.

  “What does that even mean!?,” Hannah shouted.

  Skye made gestures with her hands rapidly attempting to calm Hannah down, “Oh my gosh! Quiet! Hannah!”

  Hannah continued to lecure, “This thing prompts you to chant ‘Bind hearts, not wills.’ while you are mixing, Skye. Are you serious?!”

  Skye rubbed her temples in frustration and said, “Intent matters.”

  She laughed once, sharp, “If your intent is to kill people, Skye. Look, this even says to add vinegar to ‘enhance loves purpose’. This ‘tincture’ has ‘if I can’t have him no one can’ vibes, Skye. This is crazy, where did you get this?!”

  Skye hissed. “Hannah, calm down…”

  Hannah leaned back, staring at the screen, all humor gone now.

  “Skye,” Hannah said quietly. “This isn’t quirky. This is dangerous. You are talking about mixing chemicals and heat.”

  Skye reached for the laptop. “Okay, okay, you’re reading it wrong—”

  Hannah shifted just enough to block her. “I’m reading it exactly as it’s written!”

  Skye glanced around the lounge, then leaned in, hissing, “Hannah, seriously, we are going to get kicked out if you keep raising your voice.”

  “Oh my God,” Hannah whispered back. “This could hurt someone. THIS could kill someone. Also—” she jabbed a finger at the screen, “this is how you get added to a list.”

  Skye swallowed and planted her hands flat on the table.

  “It’s not for someone,” she whispered.

  Hannah froze.

  Skye lowered her voice further. “It’s for the werewolf.”

  Hannah stared at her for a long moment. She said finally, her voice tight. “You are going to be in the news... In the bad way.”

  Skye shook her head.

  Hannah continued, "This is so Caleb-coded... Did he put you up to this?!"

  Skye responded quickly, "No! No he didn't put me up to this. If anything I put him up to this... Sans the potion idea."

  Hannah rolled her eyes, "God, Caleb is such a walking bad decision.”

  Skye leaned back in her chair, exhaling like she’d been holding her breath too. “Okay. Look. You already said yes to camping for the super moon. Keep it that. Just— just come. That hasn't changed.”

  Hannah gave her a look that didn't need elaboration. It was obvious she didn’t like that Skye was effectively assigning her the job of emergency brake. But she liked the idea of Skye doing any of this without her to pay attention even less.

  Hannah stared at the text file again, then at Skye.

  “Two conditions,” Hannah said.

  Skye’s whole face brightened. “Yes.”

  Hannah held up a finger. “One: you're not mixing anything. Not even as a joke.”

  Skye nodded rapidly.

  “Two: Ethan is there,” Hannah said. “The whole time.”

  “Of course,” Skye said, already too relieved. “He will be. He’s going with me and Caleb this week, actually. We are doing a preliminary scouting trip to find a good spot. You know, making sure we’re not, trespassing or something when we set up camp.”

  Hannah’s stomach flipped. “this week?” she repeated.

  Skye smiled like it was nothing. “Just scouting. During the day. Totally safe. You're welcome to join us.”

  Hannah shook her head, "No I have things I need to do, I will have to pass on this weekend."

  Skye nodded, "But you are good for two weeks, right?"

  Hannah heard herself say, “Fine. For the moon.” as if it were against her better judgement.

  Skye’s grin returned, triumph and relief all at once. “For the moon.”

  Hannah reached for her now, lukewarm coffee.

  Skye clicked the file closed quickly, and pretended to reorganize her folders. For a brief second, before the window disappeared, Hannah saw the filename again.

  Skye snapped the laptop shut, as if that could make it less real.

  “All right,” Skye said brightly, standing. “I’ve got to run to class. I’ll text you details. And don’t worry. I’m being careful.”

  Hannah didn’t trust that sentence.

  They packed up, and Skye left first, slipping into the hallway with the same restless energy she’d arrived with.

  Hannah lingered in the lounge a moment longer, coffee cup in her hands and dread cooling in her stomach. She stared at her phone.

  Two weeks.

  Hannah finished the last of her coffee, made a face at the bitterness, and stood.

  She smiled to herself. The photos she was planning on taking were going to be amazing.

  It all sounded so reasonable.