CHAPTER TWO:VISITORS
1137 Words
Graypine was a town that didn’t trust strangers, or change. It sat quietly beneath the mountains
like it was trying not to be noticed. A gas station, a diner, a mechanic, and the sheriff’s office.
Elias rarely came into town unless he needed supplies.
That morning, after a long shower and a stiff cup of black coffee, he pulled on an old hoodie and
jeans, then made his way to the general store.Inside, the usual characters were milling about. An old man playing checkers near the window.
Sarah, the cashier who always looked like she knew something you didn’t. The scent of
woodsmoke and pine cleaner.
Sarah looked up as Elias walked in.
“You okay?” she asked.
“You look like hell.
”
“Yeah, just… rough night.
”
She eyed the scratches on his neck.
“Wild animal?”
“Something like that.
”
Behind him, the bell on the door jingled. Two men walked in—both strangers. That was unusual
enough to make everyone go quiet.
They were dressed in black hiking gear, but it wasn’t REI-brand hiker vibes. Their boots were
military-grade, and one had a leather satchel with a strange symbol stamped on it—a circle with
three crescent moons.
“Can I help you?” Sarah asked.
The taller one answered.
We’re researchers.
”
“Just passing through. Heard there was a wolf sighting in the hills.
Elias felt a chill crawl down his spine.
“There haven’t been wolves here in decades,
” Sarah said flatly.
“Still,
” the man replied,
“we like to be sure.
”
His eyes slid over to Elias—paused—then moved on.
They bought a few supplies and left.
Elias stood frozen.
They weren’t researchers. They were hunters.
Graypine was a town that didn’t trust strangers, or change. It sat quietly beneath the mountains like it was trying not to be noticed. A gas station, a diner, a mechanic, and the sheriff’s office. Elias rarely came into town unless he needed supplies.
That morning, after a long shower and a stiff cup of black coffee, he pulled on an old hoodie and jeans, then made his way to the general store.
Inside, the usual characters were milling about. An old man playing checkers near the window. Sarah, the cashier who always looked like she knew something you didn’t. The scent of woodsmoke and pine cleaner.
Sarah looked up as Elias walked in.
“You okay?” she asked.
“You look like hell.”
“Yeah, just… rough night.”
She eyed the scratches on his neck.
“Wild animal?”
“Something like that.”
Behind him, the bell on the door jingled. Two men walked in—both strangers. That was unusual enough to make everyone go quiet.
They were dressed in black hiking gear, but it wasn’t REI-brand hiker vibes. Their boots were military-grade, and one had a leather satchel with a strange symbol stamped on it—a circle with three crescent moons.
“Can I help you?” Sarah asked.
The taller one answered. “We’re researchers. Just passing through. Heard there was a wolf sighting in the hills.”
Elias felt a chill crawl down his spine.
“There haven’t been wolves here in decades,” Sarah said flatly.
“Still,” the man replied, “we like to be sure.”
His eyes slid over to Elias—paused—then moved on.
They bought a few supplies and left.
Elias stood frozen.
They weren’t researchers. They were hunters.
Outside, the wind had picked up, carrying with it the crisp bite of oncoming weather. Elias stepped onto the porch and watched the two men load their gear into a matte-black SUV. No plates.
They were clean, professional. Too clean for Graypine. Their kind didn’t wander—unless they were looking for something.
Or someone.
Elias slipped around the side of the store, staying low. The SUV pulled out slowly, then turned north, heading toward the treeline and the forgotten trails that threaded into the hills.
He stayed still until their tail lights vanished into the brush, then made his way back inside.
Sarah didn’t say anything at first. Just gave him a long, measured look.
“You know what they are,” she said quietly.
Elias nodded.
“Do you think they know what you are?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. Just stared out the window where the SUV had gone.
Sarah grabbed a pack of cigarettes from under the counter, tapped one out, and lit it with a shaking hand.
“You should leave,” she said, exhaling smoke. “Tonight.”
“I’m not running,” Elias replied.
“I’m not saying run,” she said. “I’m saying if you stay here, people are going to get hurt. Again.”
That word—again—hung in the air like smoke.
Elias felt it hit hard, low in his gut. The last time he’d lost control, it had cost someone everything. He didn’t let himself think about it anymore. Didn’t let himself feel.
He turned without another word and walked out.
Back at the cabin, the woods felt closer than usual. The shadows a little deeper. The wind louder.
He paced the porch for a few minutes, hands clenched, mind racing. Then he went inside, bolted the door, and opened the trapdoor under the rug.
The basement was bare concrete, damp and cold. A cot in the corner, a heavy metal chest, chains bolted to the wall—just in case.
Elias opened the chest and pulled out what he hadn’t touched in years: a canvas bag with reinforced stitching, a sawed-off shotgun, silver slugs, a knife etched with old runes.
His hands shook as he laid them out on the cot.
He’d tried to outrun this life. Tried to bury the part of him that hunted—and the part that was hunted. But it always found a way back.
The symbol on the stranger’s satchel wasn’t just a mark. It was a warning. A sign of the old order—people who didn’t believe in second chances or restraint. They came when blood had been spilled. Or when they thought it might be.
And judging by the way the man had looked at him, they weren’t just here for a casual hike.
They were here for him.
Or worse—something else had come through. Something worse than him. Something that needed hunting.
Elias closed the chest and turned off the light.
He wouldn’t run.
But he wouldn’t wait, either.
The moon was waxing—just a sliver off full. If they were right about what was in the hills, they’d be back soon.
And if they were wrong?
They’d find out the hard way.
- Writer
