Stranded
1515 Words
CHAPTER SIX
Stranded
Lyra
The moon was there again.
Brighter than I remembered.
White petals drifted lazily through the air, catching the silver light as they floated around me. The night was quiet. Peaceful.
Warm fingers slipped between mine.
I smiled before I even realized why.
“You’re late,” I murmured.
A soft chuckle answered me.
“I know.”
I tried to look at his face.
Moonlight swallowed it, just as it always did.
I frowned.
“Why won’t you let me see you?”
He didn’t answer.
The petals slowed.
One brushed against my wrist.
It wasn’t soft.
I looked down.
The white petal had become a photograph.
Grainy.
Blurry.
A forest entrance.
Ashwood.
Another photograph drifted past.
Yellow police tape.
Another.
A woman’s lifeless hand lying against damp
earth.
The petals were no longer petals.
They were photographs.
Dozens of them.
Hundreds.
They spiraled around her like falling leaves.
“Lyra.”
I turned toward his voice.
His hand was still holding mine.
But it felt… colder.
“What’s happening?”
The warmth disappeared.
The photographs caught fire.
Ash drifted where petals had once danced.
A scream echoed through the trees.
Belinda.
“It wasn’t human!”
Another voice.
Thomas.
“She didn’t see anything!”
The sound of claws scraping bark.
Deep.
Slow.
Deliberate.
My heart began to pound.
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
Only breathing.
Heavy.
Close.
I looked back at the man beside me.
“Tell me what’s happening!”
This time he grabbed both my hands.
His grip tightened.
His lips moved desperately.
I could almost hear him.
“Don’t—”
The rest vanished beneath a deafening howl.
Something yanked him backward into the
darkness.
“No!”
I lunged for him.
Their fingertips brushed… then slipped apart.
Silence.
The forest around me had changed.
No moonlight.
No petals.
Only trees.
Endless black trees.
A twig snapped.
I turned.
At the edge of the darkness stood a figure.
Too tall.
Too still.
Its eyes reflected the moon like molten gold.
It didn’t move.
It simply watched me.
Then it smiled.
Not with kindness.
With recognition.
“Found you.”
The whisper wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
My lungs burned.
I sucked in a ragged breath, my chest rising
and falling so fast it hurt. Sweat clung to the
back of my neck, dampening the collar of my
T-shirt, while my pulse hammered wildly
beneath my skin.
For a moment, I couldn’t tell whether I was
still dreaming.
The words echoed inside my head.
Found you.
“No…”
The whisper escaped before I realized I’d
spoken.
My bedside lamp cast a warm pool of light
across the room, chasing away the darkness
inch by inch, but it did nothing to slow the
frantic pounding of my heart.
I reached blindly for the bottle of water on my
nightstand.
My fingers knocked it over.
“Seriously?”
The muttered complaint sounded absurdly
normal after the nightmares.
I caught the bottle before it rolled onto the
floor, unscrewed the cap with trembling
hands, and drank until the cool water eased
the dryness in my throat.
Only then did I realize I was shaking.
I dragged a hand over my face and let out a
long, unsteady breath.
“It was just a dream,” I told the empty
apartment.
The silence didn’t sound convinced.
I could hear sounds coming from downstairs.
It was my TV, which I probably forgot to turn
off after coming home late last night.
I rushed down and turned the volume up.
The woman from the news started speaking as
the picture of a missing person showed up on
the screen.
I recognized her.
I once interviewed her for a community event.
“Breaking this morning, Police have launched a
search for twenty-eight-year-old Wendy
Taylor, who was reported missing late
yesterday evening after failing to return home
from work. Investigators have not confirmed
whether her disappearance is connected to
the recent Ashwood Forest homicide, though
detectives say all possibilities remain under
investigation. Police are urging anyone with
information…”
Another woman.
Missing.
My stomach tightened.
One victim could be coincidence.
Two…
Two was the beginning of a pattern.
I remembered Belinda’s words.
Someone followed her home.
I needed to go back to where it all began.
I took my shower and got dressed, packing my
usual.
Camera.
Notebook.
Torch.
Pepper spray.
Staring at it, I laughed.
“You’re either being sensible…”
I tossed it into my bag.
…or incredibly optimistic.”
I had driven for almost an hour, the roads
were lonely and I’m thankful I made this
decision when it was still daytime.
My phone rang from the passenger seat.
“Bennett, did you see the news? I expected
you to be on top of this case as early as
possible.” My editor yelled through the phone.
“I saw the news, Sir, I’m just checking
something out and as soon as I’m done here,
I’m going to find more information.”
“Tell me you’re not driving toward Ashwood
Forest.”
…
“Because every time you say ‘I’m just checking
something,’ I end up explaining to legal why
one of my reporters crossed another police
line.”
“Sir, don’t worry I’ll call you as soon as I’m
done-“
A horn blared.
Headlights flashed across my windshield.
My stomach lurched.
I jerked the wheel just in time.
“Hello?..” I hung up the phone and concentrated on the road. That was close.
If there was ever a sign that I was making a
mistake, this had to be the biggest.
Parking by the roadside, I stepped out of the
car.
The tape had already been removed after the
initial investigation.
I pulled out the photograph from my
notebook, then at the real forest.
They were identical.
For the first time since I had this picture in my
notebook, it didn’t feel mysterious anymore.
It felt..real.
The gravel crunched beneath my boots as I
crossed the old parking area. A weathered
wooden sign leaned slightly to one side.
As I started getting closer to the trees, I took
pictures of the trees with the strange claw
marks.
Visitors enter at their own risk.
Someone had probably carved into one corner
years ago.
This very spot could be where Belinda and
Thomas heard the woman pleading for her life.
I reached into my pocket and checked my
phone.
One bar.
Then none.
The signal disappeared so quickly it almost felt
intentional.
“Of course.”
The air turned cooler beneath the trees,
carrying the scent of wet earth and pine.
Sunlight barely reached the ground.
Roots twisted across the path like sleeping
snakes.
Birdsong filled the air.
I relaxed a little.
I took pictures of everything around me.
Nothing was peculiar yet.
The sensible part of me said to turn back.
The reporter in me kept walking.
Then-
All of a sudden, the birds stopped.
All at once.
My heartbeat suddenly sounded far too loud.
I stopped walking and held my breath.
Nothing.
“Okay..” I laughed nervously.
A bee comes buzzing by my side. As I tried
swatting it away, I looked down.
Fresh footprints.
“Finally.” I smiled.
Then I realized. They were mine.
But I was facing the opposite direction.
So how…
I didn’t remember turning around.
Then, a twig snapped towards my left.
I turned around and waited.
Thirty seconds.
Still nothing.
I kept moving, to where? I still didn’t know.
Then I heard some more noises.
I quickly brought out my pepper spray.
“Who’s there?” I asked, swinging my pepper
spray toward every shadow.
I slowly walked backwards and tripped.
“s**t!” I screamed holding my injured foot that
was just cut by what looked like an old rusted
trap beneath leaves.
“This is what I get.” I sat on the forest floor,
rummaging through my bag for something to
clean the wound with.
Tearing a strip from my shirt, I wrapped my
foot and used my notebook as pressure
beneath the bandage.
I was shaking but I willed myself to stay calm.
I limped around the forest looking for a way to
get back to where I was coming from.
But still, the same tree.
The same fallen log.
Every direction, I ended up back at the trap.
I didn’t know how long this went on for, but
the skies were getting darker.
Exhausted, I managed to hop on my good foot
to seek shelter beneath an enormous tree.
Drinking the last of my water, I leaned my
head against the tree.
I could hear distant howls as I tried to keep
myself awake.
Then I heard..
The faceless man’s voice in a faint tone.
“Stay awake.”
I jerked upright.
Nobody’s there.
My eyelids became heavier as I kept fighting
sleep.
But before darkness took me, I could hear
footsteps coming closer.
They were slow, purposeful.
I tried lifting the pepper spray but my arm
wouldn’t move.
Then everything faded.
- Writer
