Chapter 5
1081 Words
Sleepless
Elena didn't sleep.
Not really.
She spent most of the night staring at the ceiling.
Listening.
Every creak of the house sounded suspicious. Every gust of wind made her sit up. Every distant noise pulled her attention toward the window. The paw prints remained burned into her memory.
Large. Too large. And impossible. Especially because they ended, no animal left tracks that stopped.
By three in the morning, she'd convinced herself there had to be an explanation. By four, she'd started doubting her own eyes. By five, she gave up on sleep entirely. The sun was beginning to rise when she pulled on a sweatshirt and stepped outside. The morning air was cool.
Fresh. Almost normal. The kind of morning that made last night's fears feel ridiculous.
Almost.
Coffee mug in hand, Elena crossed the yard. The first rays of sunlight stretched across the grass. Birds chirped from nearby trees. Everything looked peaceful.
Safe.
Nothing about the scene suggested she'd spent half the night imagining monsters. Then she reached the porch steps. And stopped. The tracks were still there. Every single one. Her stomach tightened.
Not imagined.
Not a dream.
Not exhaustion.
Real.
She crouched beside the nearest print. Coffee forgotten. The mark was deep. Far deeper than it should have been. Whatever had made it carried significant weight. The edges remained sharp despite the night air.
Elena carefully placed her hand beside it. The print dwarfed her palm. A chill slid down her spine.
"Nope."
The word escaped before she could stop it. She stood immediately. Because somehow seeing the tracks in daylight felt worse.
At night, fear distorted things. Darkness played tricks. Daylight wasn't supposed to. Yet the evidence remained the same. The tracks led across the yard. Toward the woods. Toward the fence. And then...
Nothing.
She followed them again.
Counting. Examining. Searching.
The final print sat several feet from the tree line. After that—
Nothing.
No continuation. No disturbance. No sign that the animal had changed direction. Just empty ground.
Elena stared at the earth. Then at the tracks. Then back again.
"How?"
The question hung unanswered in the cool morning air. Because there was no logical explanation. Animals didn't teleport. They didn't vanish into thin air. Yet the evidence suggested exactly that.
A frustrated groan escaped her.
This was insane. Absolutely insane.
She pulled out her phone. Took photographs. Then more photographs. Different angles. Different distances.
Proof.
Because a small part of her already feared that later she'd convince herself none of this had happened. The camera clicked repeatedly. Documenting every detail. The size. The depth. The impossible ending. Eventually, she lowered the phone. And noticed something strange.
One of the tracks appeared different.
Not larger. Not deeper. Different.
Elena stepped closer. A faint indentation crossed the edge of the print.
Thin. Straight. Metal?
She frowned. Carefully brushing aside loose dirt. A tiny glint caught the sunlight.
Silver.
Her pulse quickened. Slowly, she crouched again. The object was small. No larger than her thumbnail. Embedded deep in the soil. Elena carefully dug it free. The fragment rested in her palm.
Metal. Silver-colored. Sharp along one edge. Broken from something larger. The piece looked familiar. However, she couldn't immediately explain why. She slipped it into her pocket.
Another clue. Another question. Another thing that didn't belong.
A car door slammed somewhere nearby. The sound made her jump. Elena looked up. Across the street, Mrs. Henderson was retrieving groceries from her trunk. The older woman waved cheerfully. Elena waved back automatically.
Normal.
The world remained painfully normal. Meanwhile, she was standing in her yard analyzing giant wolf tracks before breakfast.
Fantastic.
She turned toward the house. Determined to go inside. Drink more coffee. Maybe pretend she wasn't becoming obsessed. A movement caught her eye. Near the woods. Just beyond the fence. Something dark slipped between the trees. Gone almost instantly.
Elena froze. The forest stood motionless.
Silent.
Her pulse hammered.
"Hello?"
Nothing.
No response. No movement. Just trees. Maybe she'd imagined it. Again.
The possibility irritated her.
Because every strange thing seemed to end the same way. No evidence. No answers. No proof. Only questions. Always questions.
The sensation of being watched returned. Stronger this time.
Instinctive. Primal.
The kind of feeling that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Slowly, she turned. Scanning the woods. Searching the shadows. Looking for—There. For the briefest moment.
A shape.
Tall. Dark. Half-hidden between the trees.
Her breath caught. The figure disappeared immediately. Too quickly. Almost like it had never been there at all, Elena took a step forward. Then another. The fence separated her from the forest. From the shadows. From the unanswered questions waiting beyond them. Something inside her urged caution. Something else urged curiosity.
Curiosity won. It usually did.
Before she could second-guess herself, Elena unlatched the gate. The metal creaked softly. The woods waited beyond.
Cool. Silent. Mysterious.
She took one step through the opening. Then stopped. A low growl echoed from somewhere deeper in the trees.
Not loud. Not threatening. A warning.
Every instinct screamed at her to retreat. Elena's heart pounded. The sound came again. Farther away this time.
Moving. Leaving.
Whatever had made it clearly didn't want company. Slowly, she backed away from the gate. The forest immediately felt less oppressive. The sensation of being watched faded.
Not entirely. Just enough.
She closed the latch. Locked it. Then stood there for several long seconds. Trying to calm her racing pulse. The growl had sounded familiar. The realization hit her unexpectedly. Not because she recognized the sound. Because she recognized the feeling it left behind. The strange certainty that whoever—or whatever—was out there hadn't been threatening her.
It had been warning her as though something hidden among the trees wanted her safe. The thought should have been comforting. Instead, it unsettled her even more because protective things were supposed to reveal themselves. Not lurk in the shadows. Do not leave tracks outside her house. Not howl beneath the full moon.
Elena looked toward the forest one last time. The morning sunlight filtered through the trees.
Beautiful. Ordinary. Deceptive.
For the first time since Ronan died, she found herself wondering whether the woods had been keeping secrets. And whether those secrets had something to do with him.
Far beyond the tree line, hidden among the shadows, silver eyes watched her.
Waiting. Protecting. Remembering.
And for one dangerous moment, the wolf almost stepped out of hiding.
- Writer
