“You’re an idiot.” 
	“Why do you say that?” Cameron looked at his brother, feigning hurt from his words. “I won’t be gone long. It’s supposed to just be some classmates. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
	His brother shook his head. “No. I want to actually sleep tonight.”
	Cameron shrugged and walked out the door. It was his loss. With that, he hopped onto his bike and rode. 
	It was getting dark by the time he arrived. The address he was given originally was wrong, so he had to text someone from school to get the right one. He rolled into the driveway with 3 other cars. Propping his bike against a pole and locking it, he went to the front door and knocked. 
	There was no answer.
	Another knock, but again, no answer. He reached for the doorknob before pulling back. He pulled out his phone and pushed redial.
	It rang once before it beeped loudly. He pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it. He put it closer to his ear again only to hear broken static. He hung up. 
	Cameron reached for the knob again and opened the door. 
	It was even darker in the house than it was outside. He looked around and at the address on his phone again. It was right. He was at the right location. Hesitantly, and cautiously, Cameron shouted a “hello” into the house. Of course, as if he was expecting anything else, there was no response. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. 
	As if straight from a classic b-movie, the door closed behind him. A mechanism engaged and secured three rows of locks, quite visible to him. He looked at it and didn’t even bother with the handle. His brother was right. He was an idiot. This was going to be some elaborate prank hosted by his classmates. In the end, this was going to just be a big waste of time. He let out a scoff and went further into the house. Someone was going to be there, ready to jump out and scare him. He rolled his eyes. Time to let them have their fun and then go home.
	The room he was in had several doors, and led out into one long hallway. Cameron looked at them all before deciding on the hallway. It just made sense that there would be someone down it. 
	He walked, at a normal pace, more or less ignoring the decorum on the walls. He did have to admit, though, that this house seemed bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. That gave him pause, but he shook off the thought.
	The hallway ended with another door. He just rolled his eyes and went inside. 
	Cameron stopped short when he finally soaked in the sights of the room. The walls were all charred and burned, and a strong scent of smoke filled the air. Had there been a fire? He went to turn around, only to have the door close behind him again, but there was no mechanism. This time, fearing for his own safety, he tried the knob, only to have it stuck fast. Whatever prank they were pulling, it wasn’t funny, and he frowned. He looked around again. Maybe he could bust down the door? Who was he kidding. It looked firm. There was no way he would be able to manage that. He had to find another way. There were a few other doors.
	Panic finally setting in, Cameron carefully moved about the room. Of the two other doors in the room, only one opened, and Cameron found himself stumbling out of it.
	Of course, he wasn’t surprised when, yet again, the door was shut and stuck fast behind him a third time. This new room was different. It seemed open with a large chandelier encumbered with crystals hanging freely from the high ceiling. He was certain. There was no way the house was big enough to hold a room this large and tall. There was something else going on. He just hoped his friends thought what they were doing was funny, because he wasn’t laughing at all. 
	Another step and he froze. A shadow flickered and it wasn’t his own. Was someone else in here? He turned quickly. No. He was alone. He hadn’t seen anyone. Thinking about it, it seemed odd for another reason. How were they doing this? While he didn’t want to admit it, this scared him, and he felt a strong uneasiness. His gut told him to find a way to break the doors open, but another part of him was too curious. They put all of this effort into the house and this lavish prank. He might as well indulge them. 
	Going further into the room, Cameron finally realized what room he was in. This was a ballroom. The chandelier, the pillars, the open space. He looked up and spun around slowly, looking at the murals on the ceiling. They were extravagant and well done. There was a group of winged cherubs reaching for a fountain with woman holding their tunics up while looking towards the sun. Men stood around, admi- Something hit his cheek, interrupting his thoughts. He wiped it away and looked at it. Was there a leak? 
	Blood. 
	Blood? Why was there… How did they… He worked with blood, and could easily tell it apart from something like ketchup or hot sauce. This was blood. He looked back up, only to have another drop hit him on his forehead. He promptly wiped that off too before stepping back. More blood began to drip, hitting the floor and creating a pool before it became a constant stream, the red liquid splashing up. His heart raced as he looked at the walls. They were oozing blood themselves, as if something was pushing it out of them.
	Cameron looked around helplessly. He needed to leave. He needed to. But there were no doors. Nothing. He didn’t like this. He knew how many diseases could be transmitted, not to mention, it was gross. Really gross. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He was going to get out of here.
	Cameron opened his eyes, ready to run, only to stare in disbelief.
	It was gone. All of it. The blood from the ceiling, the blood on the walls. There was nothing. 
	Had he imagined the entire thing?
	Cameron hadn’t even realized it, but he fell to the floor and sat with a stunned look on his face. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Now he was imagining things. Would his friends go so far as to drug him to make him hallucinate? No, that seemed too out there and dangerous. They wouldn’t risk that. What was going on in this house?
	He sat for a good 5 or so minutes before standing up, completely in shock from what he had seen. There was one other door ahead, and hopeful it would lead him to an exit, Cameron shuffled towards it. 
	He looked at the nob before letting out a sigh. He really didn’t want to go through anything like that again. All he wanted to do was get out and yell at his ‘friends’ for setting this up. 
	Finally working up the nerve, he turned the handle and looked inside. The room seemed foggy and he couldn’t look past the doorway. White mist poured out and into the ballroom, but no matter how long he waited, the fog in the room never cleared. He had one choice. Go inside and see what was in there. 	
	Putting his nerves aside, Cameron briskly walked into the third room.
	He looked down and frowned.
	A large pentagram drawn out in white chalk rested in the center of the floor. He stared at it, surprised it was there, as he glanced around some more. The walls were made of stone, which didn’t make sense, and the room was almost a perfect cube. He didn’t see any other doors, so he turned to leave, only to realize that the door he came in from wasn’t just locked, but no longer there.
	Cameron just took a deep breath. There had to be something to get him out of here. He was almost certain he had been drugged.
	A flame flickered and Cameron flinched. He looked over. The flame was a brilliant orange, but it rested on no tinder. It just floated there, flickering to the beat of Cameron’s heartbeat.
	It flicked… to the beat… of his heart...
	He put his hand to his chest to confirm this. Each rhythmic thump he felt matched the dance of the flame. How in the world was this happening? There had to be some way to explain this.
	Right?
	“Your expression, my pet, is one of concern? Don’t you worry, your heart’s fire will continue to burn. Perhaps a penny for your thoughts? Anything to get your stomach out of knots. ” A hollow voice resonated.
	Cameron said nothing, but his mind raced. Glancing around, he was trying to determine which of his friends said that. There was no body the voice belonged to, so he was sure they were using some sort of PA system. The voice didn’t sound like any of them. It sounded rough, but feminine. Gravely, even.
	“Don’t fret. You’ll be perfectly fine. You’re the one life that’s made me draw the line.”
	“How are you doing that with the flame?” He finally asked, ignoring the cryptic meaning in her words. His glance darted back to it. 
	“You can’t tell that for yourself? It’s the fire in your soul. It belongs to me, now, because it’s your heart that I stole.” The flame flickered out, but there was another light that appeared in the mist. He walked towards it, only to see it had moved to the center of the pentagram. 
	He was really starting to worry, but he kept his cool guy facade. “Who are you?”
	“We can learn more of each other later, my pet, for I’m sure you’re going to have many more questions yet..”
	“Stop calling me that.” He said it bluntly. 
	“I could, but alas, I can’t. That’s a wish I just won’t grant.” The chalk of the pentagram outline began to boil and Cameron looked at it wide eyed. No matter how much he wanted to hide it, he was scared. The flame in the center of the pentagram began to flicker faster and faster. Sweat began to bead onto his temples as he took a few steps back. They continued to boil until the color turned into a charcoal black, the smell of burning filling his nostrils. He continued to step back only to trip and fall backwards, but something caught him. 
	He quickly regained his balance and spun around, only to see no one standing there. He rubbed the back of his neck in confusion only to feel something secured around it. He began to feel some more, gripping at the front of his neck, only to realize he was now wearing a collar. “How long…” He blinked. How long had he been wearing it? Why was he wearing it? This… Woman, or whatever it was, called him her pet. Did she mean she was going to kidnap him? Why were his friends involved with this? None of it made sense. 
	In that instant the smoke cleared and it was then he realized he had fallen to his knees.  
	The burned pentagram began to glow and the fire, which had been pulsing at a rapid rate, began to slow. In that instant, Cameron felt his vision fading, and he blinked a few times to try to focus. A figure, which he couldn’t make out, began to rise from the ground in front of him, right below his soul-fire. He found himself collapsing as the figure continued upwards until it- no, she -finally took a solid form. She turned to look at him before reaching out and scooping up the fire, holding it close to her chest. All he could make out after that was a pair of wings.
	Cameron blacked out.

	Cameron woke up in a different room. It was cold and damp, but stone still surrounded him. He sat up slowly and rubbed his head. His hair was a mess and riddled with dirt, but that wasn’t what had him worried. He didn’t know where he was and there was no sign of anyone around.
	He groaned as he felt his forehead. His head felt like it was splitting and it was making him feel sick. He closed his eyes as he took a moment to let the worst of the pain pass before he struggled to stand. He wavered a bit before he looked around. He was atop something that seemed to be a small island with a surprisingly large lake expanding outwards around him. He looked around and saw a small canoe. How had he even gotten here? And where was his kidnapper?
	The answer to his question came soon enough as the same voice echoed around him. It bothered him just as much now as it did before.
	“A challenge, I propose, to the pet in repose. Your life, I want, your life, to keep. Your challenge is to take that leap. If you can escape in the allotted time then you will be okay. All will be fine, you’ll be able to see the light of day. Should you not, then your fate is sealed. Your heart is mine, your soul you must yield.”
	Cameron stood there, blinking. There was a lot going through his mind and it bothered him, not to mention it was difficult to decipher the meanings in her rhymes. “Can’t you just say what you mean?”
	There was no reply, but a beeping on his arm caught his attention. He glanced down. A timer read 29:54. He blinked. It was counting down.
	He didn’t hesitate. He jumped right into the canoe and untied it. There was a single oar in the seat and he grabbed it hastily and began to paddle. It slowly pushed itself off the bank and began to drift wherever Cameron steered it. 
	The water smelled stale and the light was dim. In fact, he wasn’t even sure where the light was coming from. He was still indoors. That much was clear as he looked up and saw more stone above him. How there was a lake underground, well, he had seen stranger things. He didn’t question it too deeply.
	It took nearly five minutes to cross the lake as his watch now read 25:13. He frowned. He had to find the way out as soon as possible. From the way she worded it, if he didn’t, he was going to stay in here with no hope of escape. That was not something he was okay with.
	He hopped out of the canoe and ran as fast as he could along the lakeside. There had to be a tunnel or a door or...  He stopped short. A ladder worked too. He grabbed the edge of the cold metal and stepped on it. It shook and he froze. The thing was unsteady. Of course. Cameron looked at the ground that supported it and the different steps of the ladder. All rusted. He took a deep breath and began to climb. 
	It continued to shake as he inched his way upwards. The adrenaline rush that filled his system caused him to push through the fear and worry of falling as he got higher and higher. The ladder seemed taller than it had looked on the ground, but he didn’t waver. As he got closer to the top, he noticed a door with a vault latch at the top. He continued, slowly, and with a final step, he reached up for the latch. The top step of the ladder shook as he carefully pulled on it and the door swung open. He let out a deep breath, but the success was ruined as the ladder shook once more. Finally, under Cameron’s full weight, the top step cracked and caved, causing Cameron to reach for the nearest thing, which was the ground of the open door. He let out an audible yelp as he clung to the dirt, desperate not to fall. He had come a long ways, and he wasn’t going to die now. He let out strained grunts as he forced himself up, the fear giving him newfound strength, until he was completely in. He rolled onto his back and let out a heavy breath. He looked at the watch begrudgingly. 23:15. 14. 13. 12. He lowered his hand and slowly stood up. This was getting to be too much for him. He just wanted to give up, but the fear of death pushed him onwards. 
	He looked back at the open door and saw the ladder laying several dozen feet below him, now completely inaccessible. He turned and looked at the new room he had entered. The new room was filled with shelves, and on them, many bottles of wine. 
	This wouldn’t have bothered him, except for the fact that it felt like a maze. The shelves blocked his line of sight, and there seemed to be at least a hundred of them. As much as he didn’t want to exaggerate, that number seemed accurate.
	He put his head in his hand and swallowed. The emotional strain, as well as the physical strain, was causing him to lose focus. He needed that more now than ever before. Whatever was happening here, he was realizing his friends weren’t behind it. Something else had come and intruded on their plans. For all he knew, they weren’t even alive anymore. He swallowed again and looked back up. Right now, he had to focus on himself and his current situation. He had an open mind. It was time to realize that maybe there was something supernatural here. Everything had an explanation, but for now, that didn’t matter. His life did.
	He went up the the first shelf and looked around. He could feel his heart beating fast at a steady pace but he chose to ignore his obvious distress to look for some way out. He followed along it only to be cut off by another shelf. Rather than trying to find a way around it, he removed the bottles quickly, freely dumping them on the floor, before crawling through the new space he had made. The bottles never shattered. Just clanked and rolled around on the ground where he left them. The fit was tight, but manageable. His watch beeped and he looked at it with a quick glance.
	19:59, 58…
	The 20 minute mark. He pushed more wine bottles out of the way as he flopped out on the other end. More shelves, but there was also a large window. It covered most of the wall and was adorned with black frames. He stopped. Window! He ran to it and put his hands against it as he looked down. Sure enough, there was the yard below and the street he was on with his bike just across. He looked back before grabbing a wine bottle and throwing it against the window.
	As it flew through the air, it slowed, until finally it dropped. It was as if gravity and time were working against him in that one moment. He blinked and grabbed a second bottle. Throwing it, the same anomaly only happened again. 
	“Cheating is never the answer, my dear. Now I must withdraw some time, I fear.” The disembodied voice sounded disappointed as Cameron looked down at his watch.
	19:01, 18:00, 16:59, 15:58, 14:57, 14:56, 14:55, 14:54, 14:53…
	He frowned as he felt his heart leap into his throat. He was beginning to lose it.
	He pushed against a shelf, hoping to knock it down in pure anger, but he didn’t have the strength to move it, so he kicked it instead. He shook his head in frustration before he took off running through the shelves. He hugged the right as he twisted and turned through the labyrinth of alcohol and wood. 
	He didn’t slow. Not even as his watch continued it’s silent countdown. He just ran.
	He turned a corner and quickly hit a wall. He groaned and swore to himself as he stepped back. It wasn’t a wall, but a door, much like what he had been looking for. He opened it with ease and looked into the next room. Despite his eagerness to get out, he was still valuing his life and trying to make the right decisions about where he should go. 
	This room surprised him. It seemed to be a chapel to a church. He stepped inside and the watch froze.	
	12:48.	
	He tapped it, but it didn’t change. He looked around before sitting on a bench. He really needed to catch his breath. 
	“Well?” He asked the air, expecting the voice to answer, “explain yourself!”
	There was no reply. No rhymes. Nothing. Just the dusty room filled with cobwebs, religious decor, and it’s potent odor. He stayed sitting for several minutes as his anger subsided before he stood and walked towards the front of the chapel. There was a podium for a speaker, a set of chairs for deacons to administer wine and bread, and a large organ that loomed over everything.
	He ignored the podium and went up a small set of stairs to get behind it and to the organ. He brushed a key with his finger. He lifted his finger up to look at it and raised an eyebrow. It was so dusty, his finger was nearly black. He wiped it off on his pants and looked back at the door he had come in from. It hadn’t closed. It was still wide open, leading to the wine room. It was strange the the wine wasn’t in a cellar, but that was the last thing on his mind. Stranger yet that in this room he felt… Safe.
	He let out a sigh. He was tired. He wanted to lay down and sleep and forget this whole thing, but there was too much on his mind. His friends, his fight for his life, the collar he couldn’t seem to be able to remove, and so much more. He yawned as he made his way back down the small steps towards a pew.
	He knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, but he still laid down on it and looked up. 
	Ever since the flame, he had been very conscious of the rhythm of his heart, and right now, it was finally slowing, and he could feel himself getting light-headed. The rush, the panic, and the exercise was all catching up to him.He did close his eyes, but like he expected, he never slept. 
	Then a thought crossed his mind. He pulled out his cellphone and looked at it. He had a phone. He could get help! Why the thought had never crossed his mind before, he didn’t question. He just pulled it open and tried to call. But nothing went through. The tones were silent. He looked at the time in the corner. Perhaps…
	He stared at the time for a while, waiting for the numbers to change, but they never did. That was why he was safe. Time had stood still for him in this room. Even if a call had gone through, how could they answer it? No one but him could move. 
	He bit his lip. As wrong as he could be, and he probably was, he thought, it was the most practical explanation he could think of. He was using the term “practical” loosely, of course. 
	Which meant that if he wanted to make that call, he was going to have to leave the room. He grabbed the collar and pulled in a bit of confused anxiety before nodding to himself and going back towards the wine room. It was better to go in there then explore a new area of the house where anything could happen.
	As soon as he stepped through the doorway, his watch continued its count.
	12:47, 46, 45…
	He pushed the call button, but in an instant, the whole thing crumbled into dust. He immediately jumped back into the chapel and looked at his watch again.
	5:00
	That was it. He lost hope.
	He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Rather than trying to beat this thing at its own game, he was going to just fight it with everything he had. His conviction was clear.
	He opened the other door in the room and walked through it. He was ready for anything. He had made up his mind. He wasn’t going to die today.
	The floor to this room was in shambles and rotten. There were large, visible holes everywhere as rocks fell from where he stepped down into the lake he had previously escaped. He put his hands against the doorway as he looked down, his heart once again beating furiously. But this time, rather than just beating out of fear, it was beating out of perseverance as well. He didn’t stop to think. It was only going to slow him. Cameron jumped from one beam to another, ignoring them as the snapped and crumbled below each time he jumped to a new one. It only took a few seconds for him to have completely crossed the room towards the new doorway. As he stepped through, the door closed behind him and the crash of the floor giving out completely could be heard. He blinked a few times in disbelief. He had actually done it.
	“My pet is determined, fighting hard, I see. Knowing my pet is strong willed makes me very happy.”
	“Shut it.”
	Cameron raced through the next room, not even acknowledging the classic horror dolls and clothing that was in this children’s bedroom. He just burst through the door to the next.
	4:00
	Two more rooms down.
	3:00
	Another.
	2:00
	He looked at his watch. How far was he? He didn’t know, and the lack of knowledge disturbed him. Still, he pushed himself until he finally fell on his knees. When he tried to get up, he found he couldn’t move.
	“I’m afraid I’m going to have to stop you there. You’re much too fast going everywhere. I need you to be my pet, you see. And you getting out is just a problem for me. We’ll call this game a facade, a show. There was no way I was going to let you out, you know.”
	Cameron gritted his teeth. All he had done; all he had struggled for… Was pointless? And now, what, he couldn’t move? He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t. His arms wouldn’t react to his commands and his head was locked down, looking at the floor. He could tell she was standing there this time, rather than speaking from nowhere. He could feel her presence and see the shadow move from his peripherals.
	“Now, my faithful friend, it is time. For the changes to envelop you and entwine.”  
	Cameron still couldn’t move, but he could hear her mumbling, speaking some obscure and unknown language. But the words, while he didn’t know what they were, instilled fear into him. He let out a groan of pain as a searing heat shot through his very core. A fire flickered just out of his sight, but he knew it was there, and he knew what it was. The same fire from before. The same fire that matched his heartbeat. 
	There was more mumbling, all still in the same language, before he felt the searing heat overwhelm him and he let out a pained howl.
	He surprised himself as he collapsed in a heap. The fire burned him as he began to flail, grabbing at the carpet and pushing his face into the floor. He had no control to his reactions. The only thing on his mind was to ease the pain. 
	This was it. This was the moment he was going to die. It was only a matter of time. 
	A loud rip could be heard as he struggled on his side, pushing against the floor and crawling slowly towards nothing in particular. He kept his eyes closed as he felt his body begin to twist in strange ways. He didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to know. But, against his will, his eyes opened. No, that was inaccurate. They were still closed, but he could see. Rather than continuing to question this obscure anomaly, he saw his hand and his stomach began to churn. He held his hand in front of him only to realize that it wasn’t a hand anymore, but a deformed paw. His nails were gnarled and long and the longer he looked at it, the more he saw it change. Pawpads developed as his fingers shrank and swelled up. He put it down and pushed himself up with it, the nails tearing through the carpet he was on as if it was nothing more than paper. He finally opened his eyes, which only confused him further, as he struggled to look behind him.
	The first thing he noticed was a tail, which was long and furry, with a tan coloration and black splotches, that had burst through his pants.. He tried to move it, and to his command, it obeyed. Despite his frustration, pain, and panic, the sensation was strange, and kind of cool. His thoughts didn’t end there, though, as he looked past the tail to see his shoes lying far behind him. In his original flailing, he had kicked them both off. 
	Realizing now that he had control of himself, he looked back over towards where the woman stood, but his vision faded fast before he could comprehend what he saw. 
	“I’m sorry, dear, my new faithful hound. My presence here cannot be found. I’m far away, where none can see. But still, don’t worry, I’m here for thee.”
	As he groaned and struggled some more, a hand touched his back and he felt calmer, but as the hand moved away, he could feel something in the back of his mind click. His attitude had changed. He was no longer afraid and angry. Now he was angry and bloodthirsty. He wanted to hunt. To kill. 
	“A hellhound you will be yet. I’m fortunate to have such a wonderful pet.”
	He forced himself to his knees and switched into a sitting position. He looked at his legs, now the same color as the tail he had seen previously, as growing nails pushed his socks outwards. Rather than sitting there and watching, he took his deformed hands and tore through them with ease. His feet were already almost changed. Pawpads had developed there as well and his toes had a new shape, ready to be used for a feral stance.
	He let out a toothy smile, his teeth now that of a canine, before his face began to burn. He fell back in a yowl as he grabbed at it, the claws piercing his skin and causing him to gently bleed. Horns began to push forward from the back of his head, looping around his now prolonged ears. He shook violently as his face followed suit, pushing outwards, soft fur now protruding from every pore. Cameron continued to yelp and growl and whine as his face changed structure entirely, become that of the hellhound the Mistress had said he was becoming. 
	He didn’t have time to gather more thoughts as something in his mind clicked again. This time, it was loyalty, and he found himself pushing himself upwards. His legs cracked and snapped as they reformed into a new shape, and before he knew it, his arms were following suit. He pawed at the ground as the changes continued to burn through him.
	He closed his eyes and shook his head violently, the collar clinking as he did so. He tried to speak, but all he could manage was a fierce and feral bark. The Mistress had done this to him and… And… He loved her. No, that wasn’t right! Cameron knew better! She had ruined him! But… She… She had saved him from… No.
	He fought with his thoughts before he blinked his eyes open. No. He did love her. She had done this to him and it was a good thing. Now he could be her pet. Now he could serve her.
	He turned around in a circle, which was surprisingly easy for him, despite now being on four legs, to try and find the Mistress. He jumped however when he saw his reflection in a long, body mirror. He was indeed on all fours, fur covering every inch of him. His shirt was clung fast to him, unwilling to be torn through, but his pants had easily slipped off in one of his fits of pain. The answer to his previous question, of why he could see, was answered when he saw his second set of eyes just below his first. He had four eyes. His hair was gone, replaced by a long mane that ran down his back. Every part of him was patterned like his tail. Black splotches and stripes running over tan fur.
	As he stood there, stunned, but admiring his new form, the silence was broken by the disembodied voice once more.
	“There, there, Cameron, how do you feel? Ready to hunt and ready to kill? I have a special job for you, something I know, that will satisfy your very core, help your feral urges grow.”
	Cameron looked up at her. His mind was cloudy, and he could feel his excitement overwhelm him as he heard her speak.
	“It’s a simple task, but if you’re not up for the job, I’ll chain you outside until your hindquarters throb. Down where I live, in the fire below, a delivery has come, with a package in tow. I need you, with your almighty strength, to bring it to me, and travel that length.”
	Cameron sat there, his tail wagging happily. She needed him to get her mail! Nothing in this world could have made him happier.