Don't go
752 Words
Selena’s POV
The fire crackled softly as the children gathered close, their small faces glowing in its warm light. The night felt calm—almost too calm—and for a fleeting moment, it was easy to forget the darkness waiting just beyond the trees.
I smiled gently and continued the story.
“And then the white wolf stood at the edge of the cliff,” I said, lowering my voice. “She looked down at the river below, knowing that if she didn’t act, the entire pack would fall.”
The children leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation.
“But she was not afraid,” I whispered. “Because she knew the Moon was with her.”
A little girl clapped her hands in excitement. The others began whispering eagerly among themselves.
I smiled at them.
But something felt wrong.
The feeling crept in quietly, like a shadow slipping between the flames. I scanned the circle.
“Wait,” I said softly. “Have any of you seen Nyra?”
The children fell silent.
One by one, they shook their heads.
“No,” a boy murmured.
“I haven’t seen her,” another added.
Unease settled heavy in my chest. Nyra never missed story time.
I stood quickly. “Stay here. I’ll go look for her.”
Small hands immediately grabbed my legs.
“Don’t go,” one pleaded.
“It’s dark,” another whispered, voice trembling.
I looked down at their frightened faces, my heart twisting.
“It’s okay,” I said gently, trying to reassure them. “I’ll be right back.”
But they held on tighter.
“Please don’t go,” a little boy begged, his voice shaking.
I hesitated, then carefully pried myself free. “I have to. Nyra might be scared.”
I turned and walked away from the fire. The warmth faded fast as I stepped deeper into the forest. The air grew colder. Heavier. The silence felt wrong—too empty, too watchful.
Then I saw her.
“Nyra!” I called.
She stood a short distance away near the trees, completely still.
Relief crashed through me. I ran forward without thinking and pulled her into my arms, holding her tight.
“I was so worried,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I thought I lost you.”
She didn’t respond.
No laughter. No voice. Nothing.
“Nyra?” I asked softly, pulling back. “What’s wrong?”
She remained motionless, like something carved from stone.
I took her hand.
That was when I felt it—her fingers ice-cold, but her palm warm and wet.
Dread coiled in my stomach. I looked down.
Her dress was no longer colorful. It had turned pure white. Blood dripped steadily from the hem.
My breath caught.
I looked at my own hands. They were covered in blood.
“No…” I whispered.
I let go instinctively. Her body fell backward, straight into the river behind her.
“Nyra!” I screamed, lunging forward. But she sank too fast.
“No, no, no!” I cried, stumbling into the water. The current grabbed me, stronger than it should have been.
I thrashed desperately, searching beneath the surface. “I can’t see you! Nyra, where are you?”
My voice broke as panic swallowed me whole.
Then I heard it—laughter. Low, sharp, and unnatural. It echoed from every direction.
My head snapped up. “Who’s there?”
The laughter grew louder, crueler, surrounding me.
The water rose higher, dragging me down. My limbs grew heavy. I began to sink.
“Help,” I gasped.
The laughter didn’t stop.
My body shook violently. My chest felt crushed. My vision blurred.
“Stop—”
A sharp pinch stung the top of my shoulder.
Everything stopped.
The water vanished. The laughter died. The terror dissolved like smoke.
My eyes fluttered open.
Dryness scraped my throat. The silence around me was cold and unfamiliar.
I blinked slowly.
White ceiling. White walls. Blue curtains. A sharp, sterile smell hung in the air.
This wasn’t home.
This wasn’t the pack healer’s room.
Everything came rushing back—Nyra, the river, the blood.
My breath hitched. “Where am I?”
No one answered.
Then I noticed him.
A figure dressed in white stood nearby, face hidden behind a mask. He said nothing.
He only watched me.
A new kind of fear settled deep in my bones—not of the past, but of whatever came next.
- Writer
