At the Road's Cruel End

CHAPTER 4: OFFERINGS

The house lay shrouded in moonlight and heavy shadows, the suffocating jungle pressing against its wooden edges. A freezing wind whistled through the gaps in the floorboards, carrying the scent of damp earth and something distinctly metallic—like rusted iron, or fresh copper.

Upstairs, CJ couldn’t sleep. The air inside the bedroom felt suffocatingly thick, pressing down on her chest like a heavy blanket.

Frustrated by the lack of signal, she slipped out of bed quietly, trying not to wake Janjan or Charo, and tiptoed toward the window.

She tapped her phone screen, held it high above her head, and turned in every direction. Nothing. A single bar flickered for a fraction of a second, then vanished into the void.

Beside the bed, Happy and Tisay had been let out of their carriers. They had been growling intermittently all night, but now their low rumbles turned into sharp, guttural snarls. The two Shih Tzus stood rigid near the bedroom door, their ears pinned back, their entire bodies shaking.

“What is it?” CJ whispered, crouching down.

Before she could touch them, her eyes drifted back toward the second-story window.

Hovering just beyond the fruit trees near the greenhouse were two distinct, glowing points of light. Yellow eyes. Reflecting the pale moonlight, suspended eighteen feet in the air. They didn’t blink. They stared straight through the glass, locked directly onto CJ.

Then, the dogs snapped.

In a frenzy of wild barking, Happy and Tisay threw their weight against the unlatched bedroom door, bursting out into the hallway.

“No! Happy! Tisay!” CJ gasped, grabbing a small flashlight from her tote bag and sprinting barefoot after them.

The dogs thundered down the creaking wooden staircase. When CJ hit the bottom floor, her heart dropped.

The heavy front door—the one Joe had personally bolted shut before bed—was swinging wide open on its hinges, banging softly against the wall.

Happy and Tisay bolted straight out into the black night, their barks echoing wildly toward the treeline.

“Come back!” CJ screamed, darting out onto the damp porch.

She followed the sound of their frantic barking until it stopped.

Not a fade. Not a whimper. Just an abrupt, violent silence—as if the sound had been sliced clean out of the air.

CJ froze near the edge of the yard, the flashlight beam trembling in her hand. The silence swallowed the woods like a held breath.

Her light beam swept across the dirt path, catching a sudden, slick movement—something massive, pale, and dragging vanishing into the high brush.

Then, the beam hit the ground.

BLOOD.

Dark, glistening, and thick, soaked into the soil like spilled ink. Half-buried in the mud lay a small pink collar with a silver bell, crushed beside a b****y paw print.

CJ’s scream tore through the silent property.

Within seconds, the house exploded into total chaos. Heavy footsteps thundered across the wooden floors inside. Flashlights cut through the dark as Joe and Gayle burst out the front door, followed closely by Charo, Janjan, and the boys.

"CJ! What happened?!" Joe yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders.

CJ pointed at the blood-soaked patch of dirt, tears streaming down her pale face. “They’re gone,” she sobbed, choking on her words.

“Something took them! Something dragged them into the trees!”

Janjan pulled CJ back toward his chest, wrapping his arms around her as Joe scanned the wall of dense trees, his jaw set, his knuckles white.

While the rest of the family crowded around CJ on the path, Nathan stood frozen near the bottom of the staircase inside the house.

He hadn't made it outside yet. He had seen someone else.

Barely three feet away, slipping silently past the kitchen door, was a girl in a faded white dress. Her long black hair whipped around her shoulders, her feet bare and caked in dark mud. She turned her head, looking directly at Nathan with eyes overflowing with terror—Jenny.

"Hey!" Nathan whispered, his breath catching in his throat.

He followed her, drawn by a mixture of shock and sheer instinct. He slipped past the open front door while the adults were distracted, following her pale silhouette through the shadow of the greenhouse.

Near the overgrown vines, he caught up to her. Under the moonlight, her skin looked translucent, almost glowing. She wasn’t looking at the blood on the ground. She was looking at Nathan.

“Nathan,” she breathed, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. “You shouldn’t be here. None of you should have stayed.”

Nathan took a cautious step closer. “Jenny? What’s going on? Where have you been? Where is your dad?”

Jenny looked past him toward the main house, her eyes narrowing in dread. “They know your family is here. Tonight... tonight is the last night of waiting.”

“Waiting for what? What is out here?!”

“Run,” she whispered, tears cutting clean lines through the dirt on her cheeks. “If you want to live, get your family and run.”

Before Nathan could grab her arm, Jenny backed straight into the dark treeline—and vanished into the shadows as if the forest itself had swallowed her whole.

At the exact same time, back on the ground floor of the main house, Charo had stepped inside to grab a glass of water for CJ.

As she neared the kitchen, low, frantic voices echoed from inside. She stopped near the doorframe, holding her breath.

It was Pepe and Anita. They were huddled near the back sink, trembling violently.

“It has to be one of them!” Anita sobbed, her voice a harsh, desperate whisper. “We don't have a choice, Pepe!”

“No!” Pepe’s voice cracked, tears streaming down his weathered face. “We can’t do that! Digong is only four! Ronron... Ronron is older, he’s stronger. He has a chance to run!”

“You can’t make me choose between my sons!” Anita choked out, clutching her head. “The matriarch demands a sacrifice before the feast! If we don't give her a child, she'll take both of them!”

Charo’s blood turned to liquid ice. She stepped straight into the kitchen doorway.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Charo demanded, her voice shaking with rage and horror.

Both parents turned, pale and terrified.

“We... we didn’t mean—” Anita stammered, backing into the counter.

“You’re hiding something!” Charo took a step forward, her fists clenched. “What sacrifice?! What is happening here?!”

Before Pepe or Anita could open their mouths, a sound shattered the air.

A high-pitched, soul-rattling shriek echoed from further down the mountain path—a child’s scream so full of absolute terror it made the floorboards vibrate.

It came from Pepe and Anita’s house.

Pepe didn't say a word. He bolted out the side door, barefoot and hysterical.

Charo sprinted right behind him, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

They tore down the dark trail, crashing through the brush until they reached Pepe’s small wooden house.

Standing on the porch was eleven-year-old Ronron, completely paralyzed, staring blankly out at the dark treeline.

“Where’s your brother?!” Pepe screamed, grabbing Ronron by the shoulders and shaking him. “Where is Digong?!”

Ronron pointed a trembling, wooden finger toward the pitch-black forest. “He... he was right beside me, Tay. He was just sitting right here...”

On the bamboo floor of the porch lay a small plastic toy car, cracked in half.

Beside it, three long drag marks cut through the dirt, leading directly into the thick, lightless jungle.

Digong was gone.

And deep within the dark canopy beyond, the branches rustled.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hungry.