Chapter 3 First Dose

The cabin was nicer than Abby expected - rustic but thoughtfully furnished, with woven blankets, a fireplace, and a porch swing overlooking the lake. A welcome basket sat on the table: organic snacks, a schedule of daily activities, and a handwritten note.

"Trust the process."

– Helena

The same cryptic vibe from the orientation clung to the words, but Abby shrugged it off. It was probably just marketing - a little mystery to sell the experience.

She unpacked methodically, as if putting her things into drawers could anchor her here, make this all feel normal. Her books, her soft cotton pajamas, her sturdy hiking shoes. Normal.

The small amber bottle clinked against her toiletries bag. Abby fished it out, holding it up to the light. No instructions beyond "start with dinner," and no ingredient list. A reckless little voice inside her whispered: Are you really going to swallow something you know nothing about?

She hesitated.

Then, thinking of the relentless exhaustion that had dogged her for months, she twisted the cap off and shook two tiny capsules into her palm.

"They're just supplements," she muttered. "Botanicals. Probably ginseng and vitamin D."

Still, she poured a glass of water from the cabin sink and downed the capsules quickly, before she could talk herself out of it.

At first, nothing happened.

Abby fixed a simple dinner from the welcome basket - almonds, dried fruit, a bottle of kombucha - and sat on the porch, letting the stillness of the lake seep into her. The air was cooler now, and the stars sharpened against the indigo sky.

She was just beginning to relax when the first wave hit.

A sudden rush of heat flooded her body, like standing too close to a bonfire. Her heart raced, and her vision sharpened startlingly - every ripple of the lake, every rustle of the trees seemed hyperreal, almost too vivid.

She gasped and gripped the armrests of the porch swing.

The heat wasn't painful, exactly. It was exhilarating. A strange, thrumming energy uncoiled inside her chest, spreading outward in pulsing waves. She could feel her heartbeat not just in her chest but in her fingertips, her temples, the soles of her feet. The world seemed to breathe with her.

Adrenaline? A panic attack?

No. Abby knew panic. This was different. This was powerful.

The sensation lasted only a few minutes, but when it ebbed, she didn't feel drained - she felt... lighter. More awake than she had in years.

Tentatively, she stood, half expecting to stumble. But her legs were steady. More than steady. She had the distinct impression that if she started running, she could sprint straight into the woods and never tire.

Instead, she paced the porch, trying to collect herself.

Her hearing was sharper too - she caught the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush, the distant splash of a fish breaking the lake's surface.

And the howling. Again.

Closer this time.

Abby leaned against the porch rail, scanning the tree line. She caught no movement, saw no gleam of eyes reflecting in the darkness. But she felt something out there, a presence that prickled at the edges of her new awareness.

The rational part of her mind tried to assert itself.

Supplements.Sensoryenhancement.Psychological suggestion.

Still, her heart pounded with a fierce, unfamiliar rhythm.

And a thought rose from some deep, instinctive place:

You are not prey.

Abby straightened.

Something fundamental had shifted inside her.

She didn't know what it was yet - or what it meant - but for the first time in what felt like years, she wasn't afraid.

She was ready.