Thump. Boom. Thump. Thump. Boom.

The sweet sounds of BrutMax shook the house. (Spoiler. I hate rap.)

I wasn't sure how the campus police hadn't been called yet. Then I remembered I was at a frat party at a college known for its parties—aren't they all?

Nobody would be calling the authorities.

I glanced around the room, noting people in various states of drunkenness and debauchery. I'd been dragged to this stupid party by Eric, my "friend."

Don't misunderstand the quotes. He is my friend. And that isn't some kind of code for him being more than a friend. It's just, what kind of friend brings you to a place like this?

"Come on, dude," he says. "Hot chicks, four o'clock."

Sigh. That's why it was in quotations. Eric only asked me here, thinking I would be his wingman or something.

He was a big man, good at sports and such, but he spent too much time trying to get into clubs and get laid.

I leaned against the wall near the door.

"I dunno, man," I told him. "I think I'm ready to go."

"Go? WTF, bro? There's so much tail here you could open a Hooters."

Charming.

My vision blurred for a moment. I closed one eye, then opened it.

I hadn't noticed I was toppling over a little.

"Whoa," Eric said, catching me. "You okay?"

I blinked a few times. "Yeah. I think so. Maybe just the booze."

"Lightweight," he said with a snicker. "Look, if you gotta go, you gotta go. I'll catch you tomorrow. Probably wearing the same clothes, if you catch my drift."

I forced a laugh. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

He rushed off toward some redhead—always a redhead for him.

For my part, I pushed through the crowd, my chest tightening as I thought of all the times my father, a cop, had warned me about frat parties. My friends from high school—mostly jocks and cheerleaders—used to give me a tough time about being blue-collar, their code word for poor.

"Hey!" shouted a girl, pulling her top up. I was met by a pair of bare boobs. They were okay. I'd seen better during my nineteen years on the planet.

My second year at Ohio State was going about as well as my first year. I figured I'd finish my degree, then go to the police academy. Follow in Dad's footsteps, you know? Maybe then I'd surpass his legacy and go on to be a private detective. Then, the dream: retire with a fat pension.

When I reached the keg, I stopped. What was I really going back home for? Sit and bemoan being lame?

What harm would one more for the road do?

None. That's what.

So, I poured myself one last heady beer. I'd probably had one too many, but what the hell? Isn't this what college is all about?

I chugged the whole thing before slamming the cup on the ground. I must've been near the center of the room because everyone was too busy having fun to notice me.

"Jude." Eric appeared again at my side. "Thought you were leaving?"

The music changed to something softer, and he got this faraway look in his eyes.

"Just figured I'd throw one more down before heading out."

"That-a-boy!" Eric said. "See that Mary Jane in the corner?" I followed where he was pointing to a gorgeous redhead that, I must admit, looked a lot like Spider-man's Mary Jane. "She's got a friend. A real Gwen Stacey type. What do you say—you in?"

I thought about it for about two seconds before shaking my head. "No. Not tonight. I don't think so."

"You're crazy, dude," he told me. "Guess I'll have to take one for the team and let Peter have them both."

"Yeah. You should be thanking me, no?"

He laughed and slapped me on the back, making me totter forward again.

"Maybe you should go home," he said.

Yeah. A brisk walk across campus to our apartment would be nice.

Without waiting for my response, he said, "Catch you later..."

I nodded and pushed the rest of the way through the crowd and out of the house.

The fresh air hit me like a punch, and I hunched over, clearing my head. The campus was downtown in a not-so-fancy area of the city. It was dark, but the moon was full enough to light the streets, even without the light poles.

I was staggering a lot. More than I cared to admit after so few drinks. I guess I really am a lightweight.

My stomach started to turn, dreading the hangover I would have in the morning.

The breeze carried a chill, and I hunched over a little more as I walked. Luckily, the apartment I shared with Eric was right around the corner.

My windbreaker flapped like a flag in the heavy gusts. It was cold. Really damn cold. Then, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. But I got this weird sense it had nothing to do with the weather.

My muscles tensed, and I glanced behind me for anything that might've caused it. The road was clear. I don't know what I was looking for, but I relaxed a little.

I thought about running the last few blocks but could barely maintain a quick walk.

Finally, I turned the corner onto Graham Ave., the street we lived on, and the night air crackled with a woman's scream. Lights danced in my vision, and the buildings looked like they were zooming in and out, but it sounded like it came from behind the divinity chapel.

I slowed down. There's no such thing as a "normal" scream, but this one was extra not normal. It was loud, full of fear, and sent little icy spiders crawling down my back. Something was wrong.

I increased my pace and stumbled a little as I went around the corner toward the scream.

The woman, whose head appeared from within a dumpster, was crying and screaming for help.

Red was everywhere. Dark, crimson, like a horror movie.

I didn't think; I just jumped the fence and ran to the dumpster. Nothing like a sight like that to sober you up quick.

"What's going on? Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question. Of course she wasn't okay.

Her head snapped toward me.

"Hurry," she said in a breathy voice. "He's going to kill me."

I lifted the dumpster's lid just enough to let her out.

"He's crazy," she said. "He's gonna kill me."

She was sobbing, and her clothes—a business-style pantsuit that should have been really nice—were torn, bloody, and dirty.

I stared at her for a moment. She looked terrified.

Grabbing my arm, she started to pull me away. "Come on, we gotta get outta here."

Her words were nearly lost in the wind, which had picked up again.

"What?" I asked. "Where?"

She shook her head. "No time for questions. We need to go."

The dumpster shook violently. When I turned back around, a flurry of fur and teeth lunged at me out of nowhere. Intoxicated as I was, I fell over backward, slamming into the brick wall, then sliding down to the ground in a pile of limbs.

"Hey!" It was the woman's voice.

"What?" I asked, dazed and somewhat confused.

"You need to run!" She turned and took her own advice.

As I struggled to sit and come to my senses, I remembered the dog—or whatever the hell it was. That shouldn't have been something I could've so easily forgotten, but I must've hit my head pretty hard.

I spotted it just before its massive maw closed around my leg. Sharp teeth sank into my flesh, and hot blood poured from the wound as the creature tried to drag me across the grass toward the divinity chapel.

I say tried, but it was doing the job just fine.

I kicked at it in my drunken state, adrenaline pumping through me. I even punched it, connecting a few times, but its grip didn't loosen in the slightest. I drilled my hands into the ground, trying to push myself away from the creature, but it was too strong, and all that did was cause its fangs to drive deeper into my flesh.

The bite didn't hurt much, but when my hands touched something that felt like fur, the pain spread from the wound all over my leg.

I dug my fingers into the creature's fur and pulled. No effect. I let go and stabbed my fingers into its eyes. Still, the grip didn't loosen.

It hauled me about ten feet before I heard a gunshot.

The creature released its hold on me and yelped. Like everything else, though, its voice was odd, having a kind of human element to it. Though that, too, could have been the booze.

Blood poured and matted in its fur.

With every ounce of energy I could muster, I crab-walked back, trying to put as much distance between me and that thing as possible. However, the minutest pressure I put on my leg drew a scream from within me I didn't know I was capable of.

My vision blurred, and when it returned, the beast was gone.

I fought through the agony and glanced around.

Eric, Mary Jane, and Gwen Stacey from the party ran toward me. How had they found me so fast?

"Holy shit. You okay, man?" Eric asked.

I groaned. "Not really…"

"We should call the police," Mary Jane said.

I shook my head. "No. Don't. I... just don't. It's not as bad as it looks. I... just take me home."

I know it sounds strange, but I just couldn't let the police get involved. If my father found out I was at college, drinking and partying so much that I allowed myself to get mauled by a stray dog, he'd pull the plug on the whole thing.

"Are you sure, bro?" Eric asked.

I couldn't see his face in the dark, but I could feel the concern in his voice.

"No police," I insisted as I struggled to stand.

"Okay." He reached out to help me up. "We'll take you home."

I grabbed his hand and pulled myself up. I felt like I weighed a ton. "Thanks…" I winced. I took a couple shaky steps, trying to regain my balance.

"Stay off the bad leg," Gwen Stacey said in an irritating voice.

"I'm trying," I snapped."

"Hey, bro. No need to yell," Eric said.

I just wanted to be left alone. I was scared and embarrassed.

But why was I getting so angry suddenly?

"He's probably still in shock," Mary Jane said.

"Shut up!" I screamed. But it came out like a deep growl.

She flinched.

"Whoa, whoa! You okay?" Eric asked.

Everything around me spun. God, I was so tired.

I shook my head. "No, I need sleep."

"You need a doctor," Eric said.

"No!" I roared.

I could vaguely see Eric and the girls exchange glances. "Yeah. Okay. Fine," Eric said. "We'll get you back to the apartment."

Eric said something to the girls I didn't catch, and they left, hand in hand.

I let him lead me to his car.

"Okay," he said. "Here we go."

I let him help me into the passenger seat.

"Just get me home," I told him, but my words sounded slurred.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. My leg was a bloody mess, but I must've hurt my shoulder too. A searing pain there just wouldn't let me get comfortable.

I could feel his eyes on me. "You sure you're okay, bro?"

"No. I'm exhausted…" I flashed back to the attack. "What the hell was that thing?"

"Probably a dog," Eric said. "I've heard talk about attacks recently."

"A woman... she was covered in blood. I tried to save her... She ran away."

Eric snorted. "Sorry, bro. There're few good ones left out there anymore..."

I turned and looked out the window as we drew closer to the off-campus neighborhood where we rented a dilapidated old house. All I could think about was crawling into bed and sleeping for a week.

Eric shook me awake. "We're here."

I groaned. "Where?"

"Home."

I shook my head. "No, no, this isn't it; I live across town."

Eric snickered. "You're freaking out of it, bro. We should take you to the hospital."

"No..." I spilled out the passenger door, landing face-first on the grass. My shoulder twinged sharply, and my leg pulsed.

It didn't seem any better. I felt like I needed a week of sleep.

Eric got out of the car and rushed over to me. "Dude, I don't like this. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just get me inside. I'll wrap this up, take a few aspirin, then crash..."

Eric helped me to my feet. The next few minutes passed like I was in a dream. Then, a wave of dizziness hit me. This time, it was too much for me to fight.

The darkness took over, and I passed out.