Chapter Three – Secrets in the Pines
1203 Words
The storm hit during the night.
I woke to the sound of rain hammering against my window, the wind rattling the frame like it was trying to get in. From my bed, I could see the forest swaying under the weight of the wind, the shadows of the trees stretching across the yard like black fingers.
I barely slept after that. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that thing in the woods — teeth flashing in the half-light, eyes gleaming like wet stone. And then, inevitably, I saw him. The boy who had appeared out of nowhere, who stood between me and something that shouldn’t even exist.
By morning, the rain had eased into a cold drizzle, but the clouds still hung low and heavy. I moved through the motions of getting ready for school like I was underwater, my thoughts circling back to the same questions.
Who was he?
What was that thing?
And why did no one else seem to notice the way the forest seemed… wrong?
The bus ride was slow, winding through narrow roads slick with mud and pine needles. The world outside was a blur of gray and green.
When I stepped into the school hallway, it felt warmer than usual, the press of bodies and the smell of damp jackets clinging to the air. I was pulling my books from my locker when I heard voices — low, tense — around the corner.
Curiosity got the better of me.
I edged closer until I could make out the words.
“…not supposed to be here,” a girl’s voice whispered sharply.
“I didn’t have a choice,” came the reply.
My pulse jumped. I knew that voice.
It was him.
I peeked around the corner. He was standing with a tall, dark-haired guy I hadn’t seen before, both of them angled toward each other in a way that shut everyone else out.
“You can’t keep doing this,” the other guy hissed. “If someone sees—”
“I handled it.” His tone was final, cold in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.
The dark-haired guy glanced around, his gaze sweeping the hallway — and for a moment, I thought it landed on me. I pulled back fast, heart pounding.
When I looked again, they were gone.
The day dragged after that. Every time the door opened, every time footsteps echoed behind me, I half-expected it to be him. But he never appeared in any of my classes.
By the time the final bell rang, my nerves were stretched thin.
I decided to take the forest path again. It was stupid — I knew it was stupid — but I wanted answers, and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get them by avoiding the place where everything happened.
The path was quieter than usual, the air heavy with the smell of wet earth. My sneakers sank into the soft ground, and the trees dripped with yesterday’s rain.
About halfway through, I heard it — the faintest snap of a twig.
I froze, my breath clouding in the cool air.
“Are you following me now?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
Silence.
And then, from behind me, “You’re the one who came back here.”
I turned.
He was leaning against a tree like he’d been there all along, one hand shoved into the pocket of his black jacket.
“You can’t keep disappearing on me,” I said before I could stop myself.
His brow furrowed, like the idea confused him. “I’m not disappearing. You’re just not looking in the right places.”
I folded my arms. “Fine. Then I’m looking now. What was that thing the other day?”
Something flickered in his expression — gone so fast I almost thought I imagined it.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze intense, searching. “Some things in this town… aren’t meant to be seen. Not by people like you.”
I bristled. “People like me?”
“People who still think the world is the same place they read about in books.”
I took a step toward him. “And what about you? You don’t seem too surprised by any of it.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced over my shoulder toward the deeper woods, his jaw tightening. “You should go home.”
“You can’t just—”
“Now, Aria.”
The sound of my name on his lips startled me into stillness. I was sure I hadn’t told him my name.
“How—”
But before I could finish, he stepped past me and vanished into the trees. Not down the path, not toward town — just… into the forest.
I stared after him until the shadows swallowed him whole.
That night, I lay awake again, listening to the wind scrape against the windows. I kept replaying the moment he said my name, the way he’d looked at the trees like they were keeping some secret from me.
The strangest part wasn’t that I was scared.
It was that I wanted to see him again.
The next day, I got my wish.
It was after school, in the library — one of the only quiet places in Black Hollow High. I was curled into a corner table, flipping through a book I wasn’t really reading, when the chair across from me scraped against the floor.
He sat down without asking, his expression unreadable.
“You’re stubborn,” he said.
“And you’re avoiding my questions.”
He leaned forward, his voice low. “You’re asking the wrong ones.”
I swallowed. “Then what should I be asking?”
For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Then: “Do you really want to know what’s out there?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it changes the way you see everything?”
My pulse pounded in my ears, but I didn’t look away. “Yes.”
He studied me like he was weighing something heavy in his mind. Finally, he said, “Meet me at the old watchtower. Midnight.”
Before I could ask where that was, he stood and walked away, leaving me with nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat.
That night, as the clock crept closer to twelve, I slipped out of the house and into the cold air. The moon hung low and heavy, casting silver light over the rooftops and the forest beyond.
The path to the watchtower wound deeper into the pines than I’d ever been before. The shadows seemed to stretch toward me, the air humming with something I couldn’t name.
When I reached the clearing, he was already there, standing at the base of the tower like he’d been waiting for hours.
“You came,” he said.
“I said I would.”
His eyes caught the moonlight, turning them almost metallic. “Then I’ll tell you what’s been hunting you.”
And just like that, the night seemed to hold its breath.
- Writer
