The Cabin In The Woods
Prolouge
The Linville Gorge was not made for men.
The cliffs knifed the sky like the ribs of some ancient beast, raw-boned and wind-scoured, their edges black against the bruised dusk. Below, the river coiled through the canyon like a silver serpent, its roar swallowing all other sounds. Even the wind here carried a strange quality—less a howl, more a whisper, as though the land itself was murmuring secrets just beyond the range of human understanding.
James Linville pulled his cloak tighter against the evening chill, but it did nothing to drive away the unease coiling in his gut. He was a man of logic, of maps and muskets, not of ghost stories. And yet, the further they pushed into the gorge, the heavier the air felt, thick with something unspoken.
Behind him, Jonathan adjusted his rifle strap, his eyes darting between the trees. The youngest of the Linville brothers, he was sharp-eyed and quick with a joke, though he wasn’t smiling now. Beside him, Benjamin Carter moved like a shadow, his movements precise, economical. A man who had spent his life in places civilized men feared to tread. His flintlock pistol rested easy on his hip, but his other hand clutched a small, carved talisman—a token against whatever ghosts the Cherokee feared in this place.
“This land doesn’t want us here,” Benjamin muttered.
James scoffed, his boots crunching on frost-stiffened leaves. “It’s just a gorge, Carter. Trees, cliffs, and a bit of water. Nothing we haven’t seen before.”
Benjamin’s gaze flickered to the darkening ridgeline, to the shifting tree line where the last light of day sank into ink. His fingers tightened on the talisman.
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
The trees grew closer as they walked, their trunks ancient, their branches woven like fingers conspiring in secret. The men’s footsteps seemed too loud, their presence an intrusion. Even Jonathan, ever the skeptic, had fallen silent.
By the time they reached the ridge, the sun had vanished entirely, replaced by a sky heavy with stars. A fire crackled between them, its glow licking at the darkness, but it did not push the feeling away—that sensation that the forest itself was leaning in.
Jonathan stared into the flames, his face drawn. “You’ve been in these mountains longer than anyone, Carter. What do you think is out there?”
Benjamin chewed his jerky slowly, eyes never leaving the dark. “I think the land remembers things.”
The night answered with a snap of a branch.
All three men went still, hands drifting instinctively toward their weapons. The fire popped, sending a flurry of sparks skyward, but beyond its circle of light, the forest was silent. Too silent.
Then, out of the void, a glow appeared.
It hovered low to the ground, pulsing gently—white, then orange, then blue. An orb of light, drifting between the trees, weaving like something alive.
Jonathan exhaled sharply. “What in God’s name…?”
The light swayed closer.
Benjamin’s breath came fast, shallow. His hands twitched, though he did not reach for his weapon.
“It’s them,” he whispered. “The lights.”
And then, from the trees, came the growl.
Low. Rumbling. Deep enough to rattle inside the chest, as though the very earth had a voice.
The glow disappeared in an instant, swallowed by the black.
James barely had time to whisper “Muskets up. Now.” before the forest around them erupted into motion.
A shape moved—fast, too fast—between the trees, something massive, something impossibly silent for its size. The glow of the fire caught the glint of eyes, wide and dark, and then it was on them.
Jonathan fired first, the musket flash illuminating a hulking silhouette—fur matted, shoulders broad enough to break trees. A roar split the night, a sound not of this world, and suddenly they were running, tearing through the underbrush as something pursued them, its footsteps shaking the ground like thunder.
The gorge swallowed them.
Somewhere behind him, James heard a scream—Jonathan’s voice—ripped away into the dark.
Ahead, the river.
Benjamin crashed through the undergrowth beside him, blood streaking his face. “Run, boy!”
And James ran.
The Linville River surged toward him, white and wild. He didn’t stop. He didn’t think. He just leapt.
The last thing he heard before the current dragged him under was the roar of the beast and the sound of trees breaking like bones.
Dawn came cruel and quiet.
The gorge stretched empty beneath the first light of morning, its cliffs bathed in gold. Birds called from the trees, unbothered. The river continued its ancient course, indifferent to the things that had moved in the dark.
And from the trees, stumbling, wet, and shivering, came the lone survivor.
Jonathan Linville looked back only once.
The fire was gone.
Their camp was ruined, claw marks gouged deep into the rock.
Of James and Benjamin, there was no sign.
Only the whispering wind, carrying with it the faintest shimmer of light—white, then orange, then blue.
And then, nothing.
Chapter One - Into the Wild
The road twisted like a rattlesnake through the Carolina mountains, a sliver of pavement swallowed by trees so dense they seemed woven together.
Jason gripped the steering wheel of the Subaru Outback with one hand, his other arm draped lazily over the window. The air smelled of damp earth and pine, the kind of rich, green scent that city folk paid good money to bottle and sell as “wilderness.”
Kara, shotgun navigator and eternal skeptic, squinted at her phone. “Okay, so the Airbnb host says the driveway is tricky. Do not miss it.”
Jason grinned. “When have I ever missed a turn?”
Kara snorted. “Do you want me to start a list?”
From the backseat, Luke chimed in. “Please do. I’d love to hear it.” He adjusted his beanie and spun his binoculars between his fingers. “Also, calling it now—first person to spot Bigfoot gets to name him.”
Emily, curled in the corner of the backseat, barely looked up from her book. “His name is probably Greg.”
Jason laughed. “Noted. Greg it is.”
The road narrowed, gravel crunching under the tires as the trees leaned closer. Sunlight barely touched the ground, filtering through the canopy in shifting patterns of gold. The effect was almost hypnotic— like the forest was moving, breathing around them.
Then, just for a moment, the trees parted.
And there it was.
Linville Gorge.
It devoured the horizon, stretching wild and untamed, cliffs dropping away into a shadowed abyss. The river glinted far below, a distant ribbon of silver. The sheer emptiness of it was staggering—no houses, no roads, just raw earth and sky , unchanged for centuries.
Emily let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s... a lot of nothing.”
Luke lifted his binoculars. “Or maybe, a lot of something.”
Kara rolled her eyes. “Let’s just find the cabin before you start making Bigfoot mating calls.”
The Outback bumped down a rutted gravel road, swallowed once more by the trees.
The cabin rose from the woods like it had always been there. Weathered wood, a wraparound porch, the kind of place that looked inviting during the day and vaguely haunted at night.
Jason killed the engine. “Home sweet home.”
They piled out, stretching, shaking off the hours of driving. The air felt different here— thicker, stiller , like the forest was listening.
Inside, the cabin smelled of cedar and old books. A taxidermy bear glowered from above the stone fireplace, its glass eyes catching the light in an unsettling way. A faded local map was pinned to the wall, scrawled with notes in some previous traveler’s handwriting.
Emily traced a finger over it. “Look at this—‘Brown Mountain Lights? Check trailhead five.’”
Jason peered over her shoulder. “Now that’s what I like to see. A proper mystery.”
Kara flicked on an old radio sitting on the counter. Static hissed through the speakers. She frowned, twisting the dial. Nothing but empty air.
Luke smirked. “Let’s hope the Wi-Fi’s better than that thing.”
Emily, still studying the map, grinned. “Come on, Luke. Embrace the mountain magic.”
Outside, the trees whispered with the wind.
Golden light pooled across the picnic tables as the group dug into pizzas and local craft beer. Beyond the brewery, the mountains loomed, their ridgelines turning to silhouettes against the darkening sky.
At the next table over, a handful of locals were deep in conversation. Older men in well-worn flannels, hiking boots dusty with red Carolina clay.
“I swear, I saw them. Brown Mountain Lights, out near Table Rock. Clear as day.”
Jason’s ears perked up. He leaned in, grinning. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but… what are the Brown Mountain Lights?”
One of the locals, a grizzled man with a gray beard and a beer half-finished in front of him, sized Jason up. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Guilty.”
The man chuckled, shaking his head. “They been seen for centuries. Some say ghosts. Some say aliens. Some say…” he paused, smirking, “…it’s Bigfoot.”
Luke nearly choked on his beer. “You’re telling me Greg is out here summoning will-o’-the-wisps?”
The locals laughed, but there was something else in their eyes. A weight , just beneath the humor.
Jason leaned forward. “What do you think they are?”
The old man considered, then took a slow sip of his drink.
“I think the mountains keep their own secrets.”
A wind picked up, rattling the string lights overhead. The laughter faded.
Something unseen moved through the trees.
The forest had swallowed the sky.
Inside the cabin, shadows stretched long and dark. The radio crackled again, spitting static into the quiet. Kara frowned at it. “I swear, I turned that off.”
Outside, the trees stood still.
Too still.
Through the window, something moved at the edge of the porch—just a flicker, barely there.
Emily, brushing her teeth in the bathroom, felt it first. A shift in the air, a weight pressing against the walls. She turned to the mirror. For a fraction of a second—just long enough for doubt—she thought she saw something behind her.
A shape.
Something watching.
Then, it was gone.
And outside, in the blackness of the woods, a low growl rumbled through the trees.
Chapter Two - The Pinnacle
The morning smelled like damp earth and woodsmoke. A thin mist clung to the trees, curling through the branches like something alive, stretching and shifting with the rising sun.
Jason laced up his boots on the porch, stretching his arms with a satisfied sigh.
"Alright, who's ready to see some wilderness?"
Kara leaned over a steaming mug at the kitchen counter, her hair still a tangled mess of sleep. "Define 'ready.'"
Luke tossed an energy bar at Emily, who caught it without looking up from her book. "Eat now or forever hold your peace. I refuse to be responsible for any hangry-related incidents in the wilderness."
Emily yawned, stuffing the bar into her pocket. "Just let me bring the blanket and I’ll be fine."
Jason grinned, hoisting his pack over his shoulders. "Come on, guys. Real adventure, no distractions, no cell service. Just nature in all its glory."
Kara raised an eyebrow. "Nature better have snacks at the end of this."
They locked the cabin behind them and stepped onto the trail.
The forest swallowed them whole.
The moment they left the cabin’s clearing, the world shrank to a narrow dirt path, twisting through towering oaks and mountain laurel. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in shifting mosaics, dappling the ground in gold. Birds flitted overhead, breaking the silence with sharp, staccato calls.
It felt untouched. Ancient. The kind of place that had never been tamed, only tolerated.
Jason led the way, moving with the ease of someone who belonged outdoors. Kara followed, checking the map on her phone before sighing at the single bar of service and shoving it back into her pocket. Behind them, Luke and Emily trailed, occasionally stopping as Luke lifted his binoculars toward the trees.
Jason glanced back. "See anything, Bigfoot Hunter?"
Luke lowered the binoculars with a smirk. "Not yet. But I feel like he sees me."
Emily rolled her eyes. "Greg is always watching."
The path climbed steadily, winding along the ridgeline. As they gained elevation, the trees thinned, revealing glimpses of the valley below—a sea of green, unbroken, stretching for miles. The river gleamed far beneath them, an ancient scar carved into the earth.
The climb was grueling, legs burning, breath coming in shorter bursts, but the moment they reached the final rise, it was all worth it.
The world opened.
The Pinnacle.
A sheer rock outcropping jutting into the sky, the kind of place that made you feel small in the best way. Below, Linville Gorge sprawled in all its untamed glory. Cliffs plunged into nothingness, their jagged faces carved by centuries of wind and rain. The river wound through the valley, cutting through the mountains like the blade of some forgotten god.
Not a road in sight. Not a building. Not a single thread of civilization.
Kara exhaled. "Okay. Yeah. Worth it."
Jason grinned. "Told you."
They dropped their packs, stretching, letting the wind cool their sweat-damp skin. Luke sat on the edge, dangling his legs over nothing, scanning the cliffs with his binoculars.
"Alright, moment of truth. Any signs of Greg?"
Jason laughed, but Emily—silent now—stared out over the valley, her fingers tightening around her camera.
"Emily?"
She didn’t respond right away.
"Guys," she said finally. "I think I see something."
It started small.
A pinprick of light, hovering just above the river. Barely there, no brighter than a star.
Then another.
Then another.
They moved—slow, deliberate. Rising from the valley floor, weaving between the cliffs, shifting colors from white to orange to blue. Not flickering like fireflies. Not floating like mist.
Something else.
Emily raised her camera, fingers shaking as she zoomed in. "Holy shit."
Luke squinted. "That’s… not normal, right?"
Kara swallowed. "Swamp gas? Heat mirage?"
Jason said nothing.
The lights drifted upward, climbing toward them.
The air changed.
The wind stilled. The birds fell silent. Even the trees, which had been swaying gently moments before, seemed frozen, their branches stiff and unmoving.
A hum filled the space between them—not a sound, exactly, but a pressure, something deep in the chest, vibrating just beneath the skin.
The closest light broke away from the others. It floated toward them, pausing maybe a hundred yards out, hovering just beyond the cliff’s edge.
Jason stepped forward.
Kara grabbed his arm. "What the hell are you doing?"
Jason didn’t answer. He just stared, eyes locked on the pulsing glow.
A shift in the air.
A feeling—not fear, not awe, but recognition.
The light blinked. Dimmed. Brightened.
A pattern.
Like it was waiting for something.
Emily whispered, "It’s looking at us."
Jason exhaled slowly, his pulse hammering in his ears.
"Not swamp gas."
The light pulsed once more—then vanished.
One by one, the others followed, winking out, swallowed by the night.
The wind returned. The trees swayed again.
And somewhere, far below in the gorge, something moved.
A shape, too large for a man.
A shadow against the trees.
A low, distant growl rumbled through the valley.
Not close.
Not yet.
Luke exhaled. "Okay. That was weird as hell."
Jason nodded, still staring at the empty space where the light had been. "We’re coming back tonight."
Emily hugged her arms. "Do we have to?"
Kara’s face was pale, but she squared her shoulders. "I want to see it again."
Jason glanced at the darkening valley, the distant ridges bathed in twilight.
"Then we’ll see it again."
Chapter Three - The Return To The Ridge
The forest at night was a different world.
During the day, the trees had felt ancient but indifferent—looming, yes, but still just trees. Now, under the weight of darkness, they had changed. Their trunks were too thick, their shadows too deep. The spaces between them stretched just a little too far, as if the trail itself had shifted when no one was looking.
Jason adjusted his headlamp. The beam cut a narrow tunnel of light through the trees, illuminating the damp earth, the gnarled roots reaching up like grasping fingers. The air was colder than it should have been.
"Tell me again why we’re doing this," Emily whispered, her voice swallowed by the quiet.
"Because," Jason said, stepping over a fallen branch, "we saw something. And we’re not the only ones. The locals, the stories… the lights have been here for centuries. Don’t you want to know what they are?"
Emily exhaled, breath curling in the cold. "I’d rather not become one of the stories."
Kara walked just ahead of her, checking their map against the faint glow of her phone. "We’re fine. We’re just hiking to the Pinnacle again. No different than earlier."
But it was different.
The trail felt wrong. The forest felt aware.
Luke broke the silence. "I swear it’s quieter than it was this morning."
They stopped.
No birds. No wind.
Not even the distant sound of the river.
Emily took a slow step closer to Kara. "I hate this."
Jason kept moving. "We’re almost there."
The trail curved upward, climbing toward the ridge. With each step, the feeling in the air thickened —like walking through water, like pushing against something unseen. Their own footsteps sounded muffled, as if the ground itself was swallowing the noise.
Then, at the crest, the trees broke away and the gorge opened before them once more.
The Pinnacle.
The sky stretched wide, awash in moonlight, the cliffs stark against the stars. The valley below was a chasm of shadow, the river a ghostly shimmer far beneath them.
They dropped their packs. Jason exhaled, hands on his hips. "See? Just a hike."
Luke wasn’t listening. He was staring out over the edge, binoculars raised.
They waited.
The lights would come.
And, after a few long, breathless minutes, they did.
First, a single glow—barely visible, just above the trees. Then another. And another.
Rising.
Drifting.
Weaving between the cliffs, moving the same way they had before, as if following some unseen path through the air. White. Then orange. Then blue.
Jason’s pulse pounded in his ears. "Holy shit."
Emily lifted her camera, her hands unsteady as she zoomed in.
"They’re alive," she whispered.
The orbs shifted, slow and deliberate. Some hovered near the river, others climbed the ridges, flickering as if pulsing in thought.
But then—
One of them broke away.
It moved toward them.
Not like before. Not distant, not floating harmlessly in the valley.
It was coming to them.
Jason’s breath caught in his throat. "Guys…?"
The light stopped fifty yards away —just beyond the cliff’s edge, hovering at eye level. It pulsed once. Dimmed. Brightened.
A pattern.
The same as before.
Kara swallowed hard. "Jason. What if it’s not random?"
Jason stepped forward.
Kara grabbed his sleeve. "Don’t."
But the light held him. It wasn’t just a glow—it was looking at him.
It knew him.
His pulse roared in his ears. He took another step.
And then, the light—
—blinked out.
The darkness rushed in.
Luke exhaled. "What the hell just happened?"
Emily was shaking. "They left. Why did they leave?"
Jason turned back to them, his heart still hammering. "I don’t know."
Then, from the trees—
A branch snapped.
A heavy, deliberate step.
Emily’s head jerked toward the sound. "Oh no."
The underbrush shifted. Another step. Too heavy for a deer. Too steady for the wind.
Luke’s fingers tightened around his flashlight. "Tell me that’s not what I think it is."
The growl came next.
Not distant this time.
Close.
So close.
The kind of sound that sinks into the bones.
Jason’s body went rigid.
The trees shifted.
A shadow moved between them. Too large. Too tall.
The lights had left.
Something else had come.
Kara grabbed Jason’s wrist. "We need to go. Now."
Jason couldn’t move.
The growl deepened.
A second set of footsteps.
Another shadow.
A flicker of movement in the trees. Not one. Two.
Something watching.
Jason whispered, "Run."
And then, they did.
The trail blurred beneath them. The world shrank to breath and panic and the pounding of their feet. Branches clawed at their arms. The ground sloped downward, loose stones slipping beneath their weight.
Behind them—
Footsteps. Heavy. Relentless.
Kara gasped, nearly tripping over a root. Jason caught her, yanking her upright. "Keep going!"
Emily sobbed as she ran. "What is it?! What is it?!"
No answer. Just the thunder of something following.
They tore down the trail, lungs burning. The sound of movement never stopped. Always behind them, always there.
Jason saw the clearing ahead. The cabin. Safety.
They burst from the treeline, boots skidding in the gravel. Jason grabbed the doorknob, flung it open, shoved everyone inside.
He slammed the door.
Silence.
They stood there, panting. Shaking.
No footsteps. No growls.
Nothing.
Just the wind, whispering against the trees.
Emily slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands. "It was real," she whispered. "It was real."
Kara locked eyes with Jason. "We shouldn’t have gone back."
Jason didn’t answer.
Through the window, beyond the porch, the trees swayed gently.
Empty.
Still.
But Jason knew.
They weren’t alone.
Not anymore.
Chapter Four - The Aftermath
The cabin was too quiet.
The kind of quiet that wasn’t natural.
Jason stood by the door, ears straining. His pulse still pounded in his throat, a slow, aching drumbeat that had yet to settle. Outside, the trees swayed, the wind whispering through the branches.
But nothing else.
No footsteps. No growl.
Just silence.
Behind him, Emily sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, her breath still coming too fast. Kara paced by the window, arms wrapped tight around herself, glancing out every few seconds. Luke had collapsed onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling in short, sharp bursts.
They had made it back.
But Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t alone.
He took a slow step toward the window, careful, deliberate. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like anything was waiting just outside the glass, staring back at him.
Right?
The porch was empty. The driveway was empty. The trees—
Jason’s stomach tightened.
The trees looked wrong.
He pressed a hand to the glass, eyes scanning the darkened forest. The wind moved through them, but something was off. The branches weren’t swaying naturally—they were shifting, like something large had moved through them only moments before.
His breath came out slow.
"Something’s still out there."
Kara’s pacing stopped. "What?"
Jason didn’t answer. He stepped back from the window, rubbing his hands over his face. The chase, the lights, the shadows—none of it made sense. But his gut told him one thing with certainty.
They weren’t alone.
Not anymore.
Luke groaned from the couch. "I need whiskey or a priest. One of the two."
Kara shot him a glare. "This isn’t funny."
"Wasn’t trying to be."
Emily hadn’t spoken since they got inside. She sat curled against the wall, her hands shaking.
Jason crouched in front of her. "Hey. Em. You okay?"
Her eyes flicked up to his, distant, unfocused. "It saw us."
Jason’s pulse jumped. "The lights?"
Emily shook her head. "No." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "The other thing."
The room felt colder.
Jason sat back on his heels. "What do you mean?"
Emily swallowed. "When I looked through my camera. Just before we ran. I—I saw something."
Kara turned fully now, her voice sharp. "Saw what?"
Emily squeezed her hands into fists, her whole body tense. "I don’t know. It was big. It was watching us. But it wasn’t just that. It was like… it recognized us."
Jason’s mind flashed back to the orbs. The way one had hovered near him. The way it had blinked at him.
A pattern. A message.
Kara folded her arms. "This is insane. We saw some lights. Maybe even something else out there, but—"
Emily shook her head, eyes wide. "You don’t get it. The lights were one thing. The thing in the woods? That was different. It felt like it—like it knew we saw it."
Jason felt it too. The slow realization that they had crossed a line.
They hadn’t just seen something.
Something had seen them.
Luke sat up, rubbing his face. "Alright. So, worst case scenario. Something’s out there. What do we do?"
Kara turned sharply. "We leave. At first light."
Jason hesitated. His gut told him that wouldn’t be enough.
Whatever was out there had let them run.
But it hadn’t been chasing them blindly.
It had been herding them.
Emily wiped her face with her sleeve. "We don’t even know if it’ll let us leave."
Luke scoffed. "It’s a forest, not a prison. We just drive the hell out of here."
Jason stood slowly, looking toward the window again.
But what if it was a prison?
Kara moved to the kitchen, yanking open cabinets, searching. "We need weapons."
Luke let out a dry laugh. "Oh, yeah, what a great idea. Let’s shoot a possible cryptid in its own backyard. That’s definitely not gonna piss it off."
"Do you have a better idea?"
Luke gestured around wildly. "Yeah! We barricade, we don’t go outside, and we wait for morning like rational people!"
"That thing didn’t care about morning when it took Emily’s picture."
Emily flinched.
Jason stepped between them. "Both of you, stop."
Silence.
The wind rattled the window.
Emily spoke first.
"We shouldn’t have gone back."
Jason let the words settle.
She was right.
Kara closed the cabinet slowly. "So what now?"
No one had an answer.
The cabin sat heavy in the silence, the weight of the mountains pressing in. The wind had stopped. The trees were still.
The night wasn’t over.
Chapter Five - The Mark
Something was in the cabin.
Jason didn’t know how he knew. He just did.
The air felt different. Heavier. Like when a thunderstorm builds in the distance—not the storm itself, but the pressure before it, the feeling that the sky is about to split open.
Luke had dozed off on the couch, arms folded, head tipped back against the wall. Kara sat at the kitchen table, chewing at her thumbnail, staring at nothing. Emily hadn’t moved from her place on the floor.
Jason ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "We should sleep in shifts."
Kara looked up. "You really think we need to?"
Jason didn’t answer.
Because yes.
Yes, he did.
Kara sighed and rubbed her temples. "I’ll take first watch."
Jason nodded. "Wake me in an hour."
She didn’t argue.
Jason sank onto the floor, muscles still coiled too tight, his ears straining for any sound beyond the cabin walls. He didn’t even remember closing his eyes.
Something woke him.
A sound.
Faint, just on the edge of perception.
He sat up too fast, heart hammering.
The fire had burned low, casting the cabin in flickering half-light. Luke snored lightly on the couch. Kara sat at the table, still awake, fingers curled around a half-empty water bottle.
Jason ran a hand over his face. "What time is it?"
Kara didn’t answer.
She was staring at something.
Jason followed her gaze.
His stomach dropped.
The front door was open.
Just a few inches.
A dark sliver of night peering in.
Jason’s breath hitched. "Did you—"
Kara shook her head. "No."
Jason scrambled to his feet, pulse hammering. He crossed the room in three long strides and shoved the door shut, twisting the deadbolt with shaking hands.
Kara stood slowly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Was it locked?"
Jason swallowed hard. "I don’t know."
A lie.
He did know.
He had locked it.
His skin crawled.
The door hadn’t been forced open. It hadn’t been kicked in.
It had just… opened.
Jason turned back to the room, his breath coming too fast. He needed to think. Needed to—
Then he saw the floor.
Saw the dirt.
A trail of wet earth leading from the doorway.
Jason’s pulse roared in his ears.
The prints weren’t boots. Weren’t shoes.
They were bare.
And too large.
They led inside.
Jason backed up until his shoulders hit the door.
Kara’s voice was tight. "Where do they go?"
Jason didn’t want to look.
But he did.
The prints moved past him.
Through the center of the cabin.
And they stopped.
Right where Emily slept.
Jason’s stomach twisted.
The prints didn’t leave.
There was no exit trail.
Something had walked inside.
But it hadn’t walked out.
Jason moved fast, dropping to his knees beside Emily, shaking her shoulder.
"Emily. Emily, wake up."
She made a small noise, shifting against the blanket.
Then—
She gasped.
She sat up too fast, eyes wide, breath ragged.
Jason’s stomach plummeted.
There was a handprint on her arm.
A smudge of wet earth, smeared across her skin.
Jason’s voice came out hoarse. "Emily. What happened?"
She blinked at him, dazed.
"I—I don’t know."
She looked down at her arm.
The handprint.
Her face went pale.
"I don’t—I didn’t—"
Luke stirred on the couch. "What’s going on?"
Kara’s voice was tight. "Something was in here."
Jason barely heard them. His eyes stayed locked on Emily’s.
She was shaking.
Jason grabbed a blanket and wiped the dirt from her arm, trying to keep his hands steady.
But even when the earth was gone—
The shape of the handprint remained.
Red, angry.
Like a burn.
Jason’s breath shuddered. "We need to leave."
Emily’s eyes flicked to the door. "It won’t let us."
Jason looked back at the footprints.
He knew she was right.
Chapter Six - The Exit
Jason’s hands shook as he twisted the knob. The front door groaned open, revealing the dark, silent forest beyond the porch. The air smelled damp, thick with pine and the ghost of last night’s rain.
Kara stood just behind him, gripping the straps of her backpack like a lifeline. Luke and Emily hovered near the doorway, both pale, both wide-eyed. No one spoke.
Jason exhaled. "We’re getting out of here. Now."
No one argued.
Luke grabbed the keys from the counter and led the way onto the porch. The air felt different out here. Still. Wrong. The trees were motionless, the sky the deep, inky blue of pre-dawn.
Emily hesitated at the threshold. "I don’t think we should—"
"We’re leaving," Jason snapped.
Emily flinched but followed.
The Subaru sat where they’d left it, gravel crunching beneath their boots as they reached the driveway. Jason moved to the driver’s side. "Luke, keys."
Luke tossed them over. Jason caught them, shoved them into the ignition, and turned.
Click.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Click. Click.
The engine didn’t even attempt to turn over.
Jason’s stomach dropped.
Luke let out a dry laugh. "Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me."
"Try again," Kara said.
Jason’s fingers were already white-knuckled around the key. He turned it.
Click. Click.
Emily wrapped her arms around herself. "The battery was fine yesterday."
Jason exhaled sharply, trying to keep his voice even. "It’s fine. We’ll hike down to town, get help. It’s only a few miles."
He grabbed his pack from the backseat. No one moved.
Kara finally nodded. "Let’s go."
The Trail
They moved quickly at first, their boots crunching against the damp forest floor. The trail wound downward, steep in places, the morning light still struggling to filter through the canopy. Jason checked his watch.
5:43 AM.
Two hours to town, tops.
Emily kept close behind him. "This is a bad idea."
Jason didn’t look back. "What, would you rather stay?"
She didn’t answer.
The deeper they went, the heavier the air became. The trees felt taller, the spaces between them darker. Even the birds hadn’t woken yet.
After thirty minutes of steady hiking, Kara checked her phone. "I should have signal by now."
She held it up. No bars.
Jason ignored her and pressed forward. "Keep moving."
They rounded a bend in the trail, and Luke, leading ahead, stopped so suddenly Jason nearly slammed into him.
Luke’s voice was tight. "That’s… not right."
Jason stepped beside him—and felt his stomach drop.
The cabin was in front of them.
Exactly as they’d left it.
Smoke still curled faintly from the chimney. The car sat silent in the driveway, the dead engine waiting. Their boot prints trailed through the gravel where they’d first left.
They hadn’t gone anywhere.
Emily let out a strangled noise. "No. No, that’s not—" She turned, bolting back down the trail, moving fast.
Jason chased after her. "Emily, wait!"
She ran hard, crashing through brush, her breaths ragged. Jason followed, Luke and Kara close behind.
Then—
The trees broke, and they burst back into the clearing.
The cabin stood in front of them.
Jason’s stomach twisted.
Luke doubled over, hands on his knees, breathless. "No. Nope. That’s… what the hell is happening?"
Emily stood frozen, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.
Jason turned, pacing back toward the trees. "No. We missed a turn. That’s it."
Kara’s voice was flat. "Jason."
"We’ll just take a different path," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "We’ll—"
"Jason."
Something in her tone made him stop.
She wasn’t looking at him.
She was looking at the tree line.
Jason followed her gaze.
A mark had been carved into the bark of a tree.
Three long slashes.
Deep. Fresh.
Not man-made.
Jason’s pulse slammed against his ribs. He turned, scanning the trees.
Another mark.
Three slashes.
Then another.
They circled the clearing.
Jason took a slow, shaky step back. "We’re not alone."
The air shifted.
A low hum filled the silence—not sound, but pressure, like the moment before a lightning strike.
Emily’s breath hitched. "Do you hear that?"
The trees moved.
Not the wind.
Not animals.
Something big.
Luke stumbled backward. "Guys—"
A branch snapped.
The low hum deepened.
Jason grabbed Emily’s wrist. "Inside. Now."
No one argued.
They ran.
Inside the Cabin
Jason shoved the door shut behind them, locking it.
No one spoke.
No one breathed.
Outside, the forest was silent.
Kara swallowed hard. "We didn’t just get lost."
Emily’s hands shook. "It’s keeping us here."
Luke sat down hard on the couch, rubbing his hands over his face. "Okay. Okay. Worst case scenario, we’re losing our minds."
Jason pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to think.
This wasn’t fear.
This was something else.
Kara moved toward the window, her movements slow. "Jason."
Something about her voice made his stomach knot.
He stepped beside her, looking out.
There, in the clearing, something stood at the edge of the trees.
A shape.
Tall. Motionless.
Watching.
Jason’s breath turned shallow.
The shape moved.
Not forward. Not away.
Just… shifting. Like it was made of shadow and light, barely there, flickering at the edges.
A trick of the eyes.
Or not.
Emily’s voice came out thin. "It’s been waiting."
Jason couldn’t look away.
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves, but the figure didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t breathe.
A gust of wind rattled the windows.
Jason whispered, "We need a new plan."
Chapter Seven - The Offering
The figure was still there.
Jason stood at the window, breath locked in his chest, watching.
It hadn’t moved.
Not closer. Not away.
Just… there.
The shape flickered at the edges, shifting like mist but standing like something solid. It was impossible to tell if it was tall or if the trees around it bent toward it. The wind picked up, rattling the leaves, but the thing didn’t react.
Jason swallowed hard. "It’s waiting."
Emily hugged her arms. "For what?"
No one answered.
Luke shook his head. "No. Screw this. I’m not playing whatever game this is."
He grabbed his coat, yanked the door open, and stepped onto the porch.
The air outside changed.
The wind stopped.
The trees held their breath.
Jason’s stomach turned. "Luke, don’t."
Luke strode to the center of the clearing. He squared his shoulders, planting his feet, facing the figure directly. "Alright, you creepy bastard! What do you want?!"
The woods didn’t answer.
Luke took another step forward.
Jason wanted to stop him. His gut screamed at him to move, to grab Luke and drag him back inside. But something held him still.
A shift in the air.
A low hum rising from the ground.
Emily gasped. "Luke, get back here!"
Luke opened his mouth—then stopped.
His body locked up.
Jason saw it in his stance—the way his breath hitched, the slight tremble in his fingers.
Luke saw something.
Jason stepped onto the porch. "Luke?"
Luke took a slow, shaky step back. "We—" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, forcing himself steady. "We have to give it something."
Silence.
Kara stared at him. "What?"
Luke turned to them, his face pale. "It’s not letting us leave because it wants something."
Jason felt the weight of those words settle deep.
"What did you see?"
Luke swallowed hard. "I—I don’t know. But I felt it." He glanced back at the figure. It was still watching. "It’s waiting for us to figure it out."
Kara shook her head. "No. No way. We are not feeding into this delusion. We go in, we lock the doors, we wait until daylight."
Jason clenched his jaw. "And what if that doesn’t work?"
Kara hesitated.
Luke’s hands curled into fists. "We don’t have a choice."
Emily’s voice was small. "We have to find out what it wants."
A long, terrible silence settled between them.
Jason exhaled, rubbing his face. "Alright. Then we start looking."
The Cabin - Searching for Answers
They tore through the cabin.
Jason yanked open cabinets, Kara flipped through old books, Emily rummaged through drawers, looking for anything—anything—that might explain what was happening.
Luke found it first.
A journal.
The cover was cracked leather, the edges of the pages warped with age. He set it on the table, opening to the first page. The ink was faded but deliberate.
"June 1986. The lights appeared again. I watched them rise from the gorge, hovering like they always do. But this time, they weren’t alone."
Jason’s stomach tightened. "Keep going."
Luke flipped through, scanning the pages. "August 1986. The hunter never came back. We warned him not to track the creature, but he didn’t listen. Three nights later, his dog was found at the edge of the woods. The rest of him never turned up."
The air in the cabin stilled.
Jason leaned in. "Go further."
Luke swallowed and turned the page. "October 1986. I saw it. The same way my father saw it. The same way his father did. It does not come for no reason. It does not take without warning. When the lights rise, you must leave something behind."
Silence.
Emily’s fingers curled around the edge of the table. "An offering."
Kara shook her head. "This is insane."
Jason’s mind raced. "What kind of offering?"
Luke flipped another page. His face paled.
"The last entry just says: You must give it something you can’t take back."
Jason sat back, exhaling sharply. His pulse roared in his ears.
Emily whispered, "Like what?"
No one had an answer.
Outside, the wind picked up again, rattling the windows.
The figure was still watching.
Waiting.
Chapter Eight - The Cost
The journal sat between them, its last words sinking deep into their bones.
You must give it something you can’t take back.
Jason leaned back in his chair, staring at the yellowed page like it might change if he just looked hard enough.
Luke rubbed his hands over his face. "This is bullshit. This has to be bullshit."
Jason wanted to agree. But the footprints. The lights. The marks on the trees. The thing watching them.
It was real.
Emily’s voice was barely above a whisper. "What if we just… refuse?"
No one spoke.
Outside, the wind died.
The silence stretched. Too long. Too thick.
Then, from the trees—
A thump.
Slow. Deliberate.
Another thump. Closer this time.
Jason’s breath came too fast. "It’s waiting."
Kara stood abruptly. "We don’t even know what the hell it wants. What do we do? Leave money on the porch like it’s some kind of toll booth?"
"Not money," Emily murmured. She ran her fingers over the journal’s final words. "Something permanent."
Kara scoffed. "Great. So what, a blood sacrifice? Are we supposed to cut off a finger? A limb?"
Jason exhaled sharply. "No one is cutting anything off."
Luke turned toward him. "Then what, Jason? What the hell do we give it?"
Jason didn’t have an answer.
Emily did.
She looked up, her face pale, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table.
"A memory."
The others stared.
Emily swallowed. "Something you can’t take back. It doesn’t have to be… physical. It could be something else. Something important."
Jason frowned. "That doesn’t make sense."
Emily’s voice was quiet but steady. "Does any of this?"
Jason wanted to argue. But something about what she was saying felt right.
Luke shook his head. "How the hell do you offer up a memory?"
Emily hesitated. Then, cautiously, she turned a few pages back in the journal. The old leather crackled under her fingers.
There.
An entry. The handwriting was uneven, frantic.
"My father lost the sound of his mother’s voice. He woke up and it was just… gone. Like she never existed. He could remember her face. But her voice—"
The ink smudged there, as if the writer’s hand had trembled.
"That was his offering. And the next morning, the path out was clear."
A cold, sickening feeling crawled through Jason’s chest.
Kara exhaled a shaky breath. "No. No, no, no, absolutely not. You’re telling me we’re supposed to… forget something? Let this thing take it from us?"
Luke clenched his jaw. "And what if it takes more than we expect? What if it chooses for us?"
Emily shook her head. "I don’t think it works like that. I think we have to give it willingly. I think that’s the rule."
Jason’s stomach twisted. The rule.
It always came back to rules.
Outside, the thump came again. Closer.
Jason stood, rubbing a hand over his face. "We don’t have time to argue."
Kara’s voice was tight. "And who decides?"
Silence.
Then, Luke took a slow, steady breath.
"I’ll do it."
Emily’s head snapped up. "Luke—"
"It makes sense," he said, voice strained but certain. "I was the one who called it out. I was the one who walked into the clearing first."
Jason felt something heavy settle in his chest. "You don’t have to—"
"I do," Luke said. "Because if we sit here and waste time arguing about it, none of us are walking out of this place."
Kara’s eyes were wide. "Luke…"
Luke forced a grin. "Hey. Maybe I’ll just forget the lyrics to some embarrassing song. No big deal, right?"
No one laughed.
Jason swallowed hard. "How do we even do this?"
Emily turned the page again. More scrawled notes. The writing more erratic.
"You have to speak it. Say it out loud. Say what you give."
Luke exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He looked toward the window. The thing was still there.
Waiting.
He licked his lips. Looked down at his hands.
Then, finally, he whispered:
"I give up my first kiss."
Jason blinked.
Luke gave a small, sad smile. "I don’t mean just the memory of it. I mean… I give it up completely. Like it never happened. Like it was never mine to have."
Emily’s breath hitched.
Jason opened his mouth to protest, but—
The air shifted.
The wind returned.
The trees swayed.
And outside—
The figure was gone.
Kara sucked in a sharp breath.
Jason turned to Luke. "Do you feel… different?"
Luke exhaled, shaking his head. "I don’t know. I don’t—"
He hesitated.
A small furrow formed between his brows. He touched his lips.
Then his expression changed.
His hands dropped to his sides. His breath came shallower.
Jason’s pulse kicked up. "Luke?"
Luke looked up, his eyes distant. "I… I don’t remember it."
Emily’s hands clenched into fists. "What?"
Luke swallowed. "I know I had one. I know it happened. But I can’t… picture it. I can’t remember where I was. Who I was with."
Jason’s throat tightened.
Luke let out a weak laugh. "Holy shit. It’s just… gone."
Kara’s voice was barely a whisper. "Did it work?"
Silence.
Then—
A sharp gust of wind slammed against the cabin, rattling the walls.
And beyond it—
The sound of footsteps.
Leaving.
Jason’s stomach lurched.
Luke turned toward the door. "I think we can go now."
Chapter Nine - What’s Left Behind
The moment they stepped onto the road, Jason felt the difference.
The air was lighter. The weight on his chest, the pressure in his skull—it was gone. The wind had returned, shifting the trees gently. The presence in the clearing had vanished.
"We did it," Kara breathed.
No one moved.
Jason kept his eyes on the road ahead. The gravel crunched beneath their boots, every step taking them farther from the cabin. It felt unreal—like stepping out of a nightmare and finding the real world again.
Luke exhaled a sharp, nervous laugh. "Holy shit. It worked."
No one replied.
Emily clutched her arms, rubbing them like she was trying to shake off something unseen. "I don’t… I don’t feel right."
Jason swallowed. "We’re just rattled."
They kept walking.
The road curved gently downhill, disappearing into the trees. Just ahead, the valley stretched open—mist rolling through the gorge, the world untouched and waiting.
Then Jason glanced over his shoulder.
The cabin was gone.
His breath caught.
The clearing was still there. The porch. The fire pit. The rusted wind chime.
But the cabin itself was just… missing.
Jason stopped walking.
Luke nearly ran into him. "What?"
Jason pointed.
Kara’s face drained of color. "Where the hell—"
The building had vanished, as if it had never been there at all. No wreckage, no foundation. Not even a patch of disturbed earth.
Emily took a step back. "No. No, no, no—"
Jason’s stomach twisted. The inside of his head felt wrong, like his thoughts were shifting out of order. He tried to picture the cabin—its walls, its door, the creaky floorboards—but the details were slipping. Like a dream at the edge of waking.
"I—" Jason hesitated, then rubbed his temples. "We were inside it. Just now. Right?"
Silence.
Luke furrowed his brow. "Yeah. Of course we were."
But he sounded uncertain.
Kara took a sharp breath. "Guys."
They turned to her.
Her hands were shaking.
"Tell me what Emily’s last name is."
Jason blinked. "What?"
Kara’s voice came out strangled. "Emily. Her last name. Say it."
The group froze.
Jason opened his mouth. Stopped.
His pulse spiked.
He knew Emily. He remembered her face. Her voice. He remembered arguing with her in the car, laughing with her over beers at the brewery.
But her last name—
His mind was blank.
Emily took a step back, eyes wide. "Why—why can’t you—"
Jason turned to Luke. "You know it, right?"
Luke’s mouth opened. Closed.
"I—" Luke’s hands curled into fists. "I know it. I just—hold on—"
His breathing turned ragged.
Kara shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "It took something. It took something from us."
Emily was trembling. "No. No, you guys are messing with me."
Jason clenched his jaw. "We wouldn’t joke about this."
Emily turned frantically to Kara. "You know me! You’ve known me for years!"
Kara’s face crumpled.
Jason’s chest ached. He knew Emily. She was his friend. He could remember so much about her.
But her last name was gone.
Not forgotten. Erased.
Jason’s stomach twisted. "We have to keep moving."
Kara didn’t move. "What if we forget more?"
Jason met her eyes. "Then we leave before it takes anything else."
They started walking.
Faster.
Luke checked his phone. It had signal again.
Jason’s pulse soared. They were free.
He tried not to think about the hole in his memory.
He tried not to think about what else the land could take.
Chapter Ten - Returning to the World
They didn’t speak for the first ten miles.
The Subaru rumbled down the gravel road, bumping over potholes, the last traces of Linville Gorge shrinking in the rearview mirror. The morning light was brighter now, filtering through the trees, golden and warm.
But Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. Every so often, he glanced at Emily in the passenger seat. She was quiet, staring out the window, arms wrapped around herself.
Luke was in the back, scrolling through his phone. "Signal’s back," he muttered. "Missed calls from my mom, some work emails…" He trailed off.
Kara, next to him, barely looked up. "Anything about… us?"
Luke scrolled a little further. "Nothing weird."
Jason exhaled slowly. Normal. They were back in the world. No shifting trees, no impossible paths, no thing standing at the edge of the clearing.
It was over.
So why did it feel like something was watching them?
The Gas Station
They pulled into a Sunoco just outside of Morganton. A single-story building with a faded "24-Hour Service" sign, the kind of place that smelled like burned coffee and hot asphalt.
Jason stepped out, stretching stiff muscles, the reality of the world pressing against him. The hum of cars. The crackle of the gas pump. The distant sound of a train.
Normal things.
But when he glanced at his reflection in the car window, he hesitated.
For just a second, it didn’t look like him.
Not wrong. Not monstrous. Just… off.
Like his body had been redrawn slightly differently.
Then he blinked, and the feeling was gone.
Emily came up beside him. "You okay?"
Jason forced a grin. "Yeah. Just glad to be back."
She didn’t look convinced.
The Forgotten Pieces
Inside the gas station, Kara grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went to the counter.
The cashier, a middle-aged man with a heavy beard, nodded. "You folks been up in the gorge?"
Kara hesitated. "Yeah."
He chuckled, ringing her up. "Place has a way of getting in your head."
Kara swallowed. "Yeah."
She tapped her credit card. DECLINED.
Kara frowned and tried again.
DECLINED.
The cashier gave her a look. "You sure that’s yours?"
A sudden, sharp cold spread through her chest.
She checked the name on the card.
It wasn’t hers.
The same bank. The same card number. But the name…
She didn’t recognize it.
"Kara?" Jason stepped up beside her.
She stared at the card, fingers trembling. "I—I don’t—"
Emily stepped up behind them. "What’s wrong?"
Kara turned to her, face pale.
"Say my last name."
Emily’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Jason’s stomach dropped.
Kara turned to Luke. "You know it, right?"
Luke didn’t answer.
He was staring at his phone, his hands shaking.
Jason swallowed. "Luke?"
Luke slowly turned the screen around.
They all leaned in.
The lock screen was a photo of four people.
Jason. Kara. Luke.
And a fourth person.
A girl.
Smiling.
Standing between Kara and Luke, an arm slung over Jason’s shoulder like she belonged there.
Jason’s throat tightened.
There were four of them.
There were always four of them.
Weren’t there?
Emily’s breath came shallow. "Who… who is that?"
No one answered.
Because none of them knew.
But she was in the picture.
She had always been in the picture.
And yet—
None of them could remember her face.
Chapter Eleven - Trying to Remember
Jason couldn’t stop staring at the photo.
The girl was there. Clear as day. Smiling, close, like she’d been part of them for years.
But she was a stranger.
His stomach twisted. "I—" He swallowed. "This isn’t possible."
Kara’s hands curled into fists. "She was with us. She was there."
Luke’s face was tight, jaw clenched. "So why can’t we remember her?"
No one answered.
The gas station suddenly felt too small. The lights too bright. Jason’s pulse too loud.
He turned to the cashier. "Hey, man. Sorry, this is weird, but—" He held up the phone. "Do you recognize her?"
The man squinted at the screen.
Then his face changed.
Not confusion. Not disinterest.
Something worse.
His brow furrowed like he was trying to focus on something that wouldn’t stay still. His eyes darted back and forth across the girl’s face like he was struggling to process what he was looking at.
His expression darkened.
"No," he muttered, almost to himself. "No, I don’t think I…"
He trailed off.
Then, slowly, he turned back to the register and started scanning items that weren’t there.
Jason’s breath hitched.
The man didn’t say another word.
Didn’t look at them again.
Like his mind had just dropped something.
Like it had been wiped.
Jason took a shaky step back. "Let’s go."
Kara hesitated. "Jason, we need to—"
"Now."
They grabbed their things and bolted for the car.
The Drive
The road stretched ahead, open and endless.
No one spoke.
Jason drove too fast, white-knuckling the wheel. He kept checking the mirrors, like expecting something to be right behind them.
Luke was still staring at his phone, scrolling through photos. "She’s in all of them."
Jason’s stomach clenched. "What?"
Luke flipped the screen around.
Every picture they took on the trip.
The brewery. The Pinnacle. The trailhead.
She was there.
Sitting next to Emily.
Climbing ahead of Kara.
Throwing an arm around Luke in a selfie.
Jason’s head pounded. He remembered taking these photos. He remembered the moments.
But not her.
It felt wrong. Like something was bending in his brain.
Emily whispered, "What if… we aren’t supposed to look?"
Silence.
Jason’s grip tightened. "No. That’s bullshit. She was with us. We’re not just going to let her disappear."
Kara stared out the window. "And what if it’s already too late?"
Searching for Answers
They pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot, flipping open their phones and laptops, scrambling for anything.
Luke scrolled through old texts. "She’s in the group chat. She sent us the link for the Airbnb."
Kara opened Instagram. "She posted a photo from the brewery. Look, it has comments."
Jason’s heart pounded. This was real. She was real.
He clicked her profile.
The page didn’t exist.
Kara refreshed. Nothing.
Luke tapped his texts again.
Her messages were gone.
Like she had never been there.
Jason’s hands clenched into fists. "No. No, no, no, this isn’t—"
Kara turned to Emily. "Check your contacts. What’s her last name?"
Emily swallowed, thumbs shaking as she pulled up her phone.
She stopped.
Jason leaned over.
Her contact list scrolled with names, numbers.
Then—
An empty space.
Not a deleted number. Not an old entry.
Just a blank line.
Jason’s throat tightened. "You still have her number?"
Emily nodded.
Jason grabbed his phone. "Call it."
Emily hesitated.
Jason’s voice was hoarse. "Call it, Emily."
She hit dial.
The phone rang.
They held their breath.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Then—
The voice that answered was Emily’s.
Jason’s blood ran ice cold.
Static crackled through the speaker, distorting the sound, but there was no doubt.
It was Emily.
Softer. Fainter. Like it was coming from somewhere far away.
"Hello?"
Emily dropped the phone.
Jason snatched it up, heart hammering. "Who is this?!"
Silence.
Then—
A voice.
"Come back."
The line went dead.
Emily was shaking. "That—" She couldn’t finish.
Jason dropped the phone onto the dashboard. His breath came ragged.
Luke whispered, "Guys. We made a mistake."
Emily pressed her hands over her ears. "No. No, no, we’re not doing this. We are not going back."
Jason swallowed. "Then what do we do?"
No one had an answer.
But deep in Jason’s chest, something knew.
It wasn’t over.
It had never been over.
The land was still watching.
Waiting.
Chapter Twelve - The Choice
No one spoke for a long time.
Jason gripped the steering wheel, staring at the phone where Emily had dropped it.
"Come back."
The words echoed in his head, cold and certain.
Emily was curled against the car door, arms wrapped tight around herself, her breaths shaky.
Luke ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. So. We agree that was—completely, unbelievably, batshit insane, right?"
Kara exhaled slowly. "We need to think."
Emily snapped her head toward her. "Think about what? We’re not actually considering—"
"We don’t have a choice," Jason muttered.
Emily’s eyes flashed. "The hell we don’t. We leave this alone. We let her go. We go back to our actual lives and pretend we never—"
Luke cut in. "Yeah? And what happens when we forget something else?"
Silence.
Kara’s fingers curled around her knee. "It’s already started."
She pointed at her credit card, still sitting on the dashboard.
Jason followed her gaze.
The name on it was completely gone.
Not scratched out. Not faded.
Just blank.
Jason’s stomach twisted.
Emily looked away.
Luke shook his head. "We leave now, we’re giving it permission to keep taking. First her name. Then… I don’t know. More. Until there’s nothing left of her. Until there’s nothing left of us."
Jason closed his eyes. "So we go back."
Emily slammed her hand against the dashboard. "You’re not listening to me. We don’t know what’s waiting for us out there. We don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore! We don’t even know if she’s alive!"
Luke’s voice was tight. "Then we find out."
Emily let out a ragged breath, her voice trembling. "And if we don’t like the answer?"
Nobody had an answer.
The silence stretched.
Then Jason sighed. Put the car in drive.
And turned around.
Back to the Gorge
They didn’t talk on the drive back.
The road wound through the mountains, the world outside untouched, pristine. Birds still called from the trees. The sun still glowed against the rock faces.
Nothing looked different.
But Jason felt it.
A wrongness, a hum in the air, like stepping onto a stage where the actors had already left, but the play was still running.
The land was waiting.
They reached the entrance to the trail.
Jason pulled off onto the shoulder, gravel crunching under the tires. The trail sign was still there. The same weathered wooden post. The same carved letters.
But something was wrong.
Jason squinted.
There were only three names.
Carved into the post.
His. Kara’s. Luke’s.
Emily’s name was missing.
Jason’s pulse spiked. He turned back to the car. "Emily—"
The passenger seat was empty.
Jason’s breath caught. "No. No, no—"
Kara flung the door open. "Where is she?!"
Luke scrambled out, checking the back seat, the side of the road, the trees—"She was just here."
Jason’s hands clenched into fists.
They hadn’t even gone back into the forest yet.
And Emily was already gone.
Chapter Thirteen - The Descent
Jason ran.
His boots slammed against the gravel, breath coming in ragged bursts as he sprinted toward the trailhead.
"Emily!"
The trees swallowed his voice.
No response.
Luke was right behind him, moving fast, head whipping back and forth like he expected her to just materialize between the trees.
Kara was still standing by the car, one hand gripping the open door, like she was afraid to move. "She was just here."
Jason reached the trail’s entrance and skidded to a stop. His eyes darted to the carved wooden sign again, his heart hammering in his ears.
His name. Luke’s. Kara’s.
No Emily.
The carving was smooth.
Like her name had never been there.
Jason turned back to Luke. "You saw her in the car. You heard her—"
Luke nodded quickly. "She was right next to me, man. I—" He exhaled, running a shaking hand through his hair. "I don’t understand."
Jason’s stomach twisted. His brain was struggling to reconcile what he knew with what was in front of him.
He had memories of Emily. She was real.
So why did it feel like something was pushing against those memories, dulling them, erasing the edges?
Kara finally moved. She walked slowly toward them, her arms crossed tight over her chest.
Her voice was small. "I think we lost her the moment we turned around."
Jason’s pulse kicked up. "No. We lost her here."
Kara shook her head.
"Maybe it never let her leave."
Silence.
Luke wiped his face. "So what do we do?"
Jason stared down the trail. The dirt path stretched ahead, cutting into the trees, winding downward toward the gorge.
Deeper.
Darker.
Jason’s jaw clenched. "We go find her."
Luke exhaled sharply, nodding.
Kara hesitated—but then she followed.
Jason took the first step.
And the forest closed in.
The First Mile
They hiked in silence.
The first stretch of the trail was familiar—worn dirt, old wooden steps hammered into the slope where the descent was steep.
Jason had walked this path before.
But something felt off.
The trees were too tall. Their trunks stretched impossibly high, their branches twisting together to form a dense canopy overhead.
Jason knew that wasn’t right. He remembered the sun cutting through the leaves when they hiked this trail yesterday.
But now, the light was dim.
Almost muted.
He checked his watch.
The hands weren’t moving.
Jason swallowed hard. "Kara, what time is it?"
Kara pulled out her phone.
The screen was blank.
She frowned, hitting the power button. "It just… died."
Luke pulled his out too. "Same."
Jason tried his watch again. The second hand was stuck.
They kept walking.
The forest grew thicker. The air heavier.
The deeper they went, the more Jason felt it—like they were sinking into something they wouldn’t be able to climb out of.
And then, up ahead—
Something moved.
Jason stopped so fast that Kara almost ran into him.
Luke saw it too. "The hell was that?"
Jason’s pulse hammered. It had been just beyond the trees. A flicker of motion—not an animal, not a trick of the light.
Something tall.
Watching.
Jason stepped forward. "Emily?"
No response.
He swallowed. "Hello?"
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves.
And then, the smell hit.
Jason gagged, covering his mouth.
Kara stumbled back. "Jesus—"
It was rot.
Something old and sour in the air, like damp earth and meat left in the sun.
Jason’s breath came fast. "That’s not normal."
The trees creaked.
A sound rolled through the woods—a deep, low vibration that Jason felt more than heard.
Kara took a step back. "I don’t think we’re alone out here."
Jason’s hands clenched into fists.
He knew.
They had walked into something alive.
And it was waiting.
Chapter Fourteen - The Signs
The smell wouldn’t leave.
Jason pressed his sleeve to his nose, trying to block out the stench curling through the trees. It clung to his skin, thick and damp, making his stomach churn.
Kara gagged behind him. "What is that?"
Luke wiped his face with his sleeve. "Nothing good."
Jason pushed forward, stepping carefully over the gnarled roots that twisted across the trail. The trees loomed higher now, their branches clawing at the sky, their trunks impossibly thick.
Jason knew this trail. It shouldn’t have looked like this.
But something was rewriting it.
"Look," Kara whispered.
Jason turned.
Something was carved into the bark of a tree just ahead. Deep gouges, three slashes, raw and fresh like something had just made them.
Luke exhaled sharply. "We’ve seen those before."
Jason nodded. "Back at the cabin."
They stepped closer.
Jason reached out, fingertips brushing the rough bark. The gouges were too clean to be from an animal. Too precise.
His stomach twisted.
They weren’t random.
They were markings.
A low creak rolled through the woods.
Jason turned his head—
And stopped breathing.
Up ahead, nailed into the trunk of a tree, was Emily’s backpack.
Jason’s chest seized. "No—"
He ran.
The others followed, their boots crunching against the dirt as they reached it.
The pack was open, half torn, dirty. Strips of fabric dangled from where something had ripped it apart.
Kara touched it cautiously. "It’s hers."
Jason’s pulse pounded. He knew.
Luke scanned the forest, his breath coming fast. "Emily!"
No answer.
Jason grabbed the backpack, yanking it free. The straps were sticky. His fingers came away red.
He stared.
Blood.
Not dried.
Fresh.
Jason’s breath hitched.
Kara’s voice shook. "She was here."
Luke turned in a slow circle, scanning the trees. "Then where is she?"
Jason’s pulse roared in his ears. "Emily!"
Silence.
Then—
A whisper.
"Jason."
Jason’s blood ran cold.
It came from the trees.
A low, soft voice, curling through the branches like the wind, stretching the syllables just a little too long.
"Jaaaaason."
Kara stumbled back. "No."
Jason’s throat went dry. "Emily?"
A footstep.
Then another.
Slow. Deliberate.
Jason turned toward the sound—
And froze.
Someone stood just beyond the trees.
Not a shadow.
Not a trick of the light.
A figure.
Tall. Still.
Watching.
Jason’s stomach twisted. The outline was wrong.
Not quite human.
"Emily?" Kara’s voice was barely a whisper.
The thing moved.
Not stepped.
Shifted.
A blur of motion, like something pressing through a frame it wasn’t meant to fit inside.
Jason’s body locked up.
The voice came again.
"Jason, come here."
Kara clutched his wrist. "We are not going toward that."
Luke’s breath came short. "That’s not her."
Jason knew that.
He knew.
But it had her voice.
It knew his name.
And when it shifted again—just for a second—
Jason swore it had her face.
Then it was gone.
The woods fell silent.
No wind. No birds.
Nothing.
Kara was shaking. "We have to leave. Now."
Jason clenched his fists. His throat burned.
Emily had been here.
The blood on her pack was fresh.
She was still out here.
Somewhere.
Jason exhaled. "We keep going."
Kara’s eyes widened. "Jason, did you not just see that?!"
His jaw clenched. "We don’t stop until we find her."
Luke swallowed hard. "And if she doesn’t want to be found?"
Jason didn’t answer.
He turned back toward the trail.
And walked deeper into the trees.
Chapter Fifteen - The Cave
The deeper they went, the less real the forest felt.
Jason felt it in the air. Too still. Too thick. Like the world itself was holding its breath.
The trail had changed again. The trees stretched taller, the spaces between them wider, emptier. The deeper they went, the more the ground sloped—down, always down.
And the smell was getting worse.
Jason adjusted his grip on Emily’s bloodstained backpack. "There’s something ahead."
Kara wiped sweat from her forehead. "How do you know?"
Jason didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know.
But the land was pulling them forward.
The Cave Entrance
The trees ended abruptly.
One step, and they were surrounded by forest.
The next, they were standing at the edge of a massive rock face.
Jason stopped so fast that Luke almost crashed into him.
Kara sucked in a breath. "What the hell is this?"
The cliff stretched high—too high. The surface was jagged, black stone, scarred and ancient.
And at its base—
A cave.
Jason’s chest tightened.
It yawned open before them, its entrance a jagged wound in the rock, large enough to swallow them whole.
Jason’s breath came fast.
They shouldn’t have been here.
But they were.
And somewhere inside—
Emily’s voice called to them.
Jason’s pulse spiked.
"Jason. Come inside."
The others heard it too.
Kara stiffened. "No. No, no, we are not doing this."
Luke swallowed hard. "That’s… deeper than before."
Jason’s hands clenched into fists. It wasn’t just Emily’s voice anymore. It was wrong.
The words stretched a little too long. The syllables wavered like something speaking through a radio, just slightly detuned.
Kara’s voice was tight. "That isn’t her."
Jason wasn’t sure anymore.
He looked down at the backpack in his hands. The torn strap. The dark, rusted stains.
If she was alive—
If she was inside—
Jason stepped forward.
Kara grabbed his wrist. "Jason, please."
His jaw clenched. He looked back at her.
"She’s in there."
Kara’s fingers tightened around his wrist. "What if it’s not her?"
Jason’s chest ached.
Then Emily’s voice came again—
And this time, she screamed.
Jason ripped free and ran.
Inside the Cave
The walls were too close. The air too thick.
Jason’s flashlight flickered against the rock, illuminating jagged edges, uneven stone, tunnels that twisted in impossible ways.
The deeper they went, the colder it got.
Luke’s voice was sharp. "Jason! Slow the hell down!"
Jason didn’t stop.
Emily had screamed.
He knew it was her. He knew.
Something moved in the tunnel ahead.
Jason froze.
The others skidded to a stop behind him.
The beam of his flashlight cut into the dark.
And there—
A figure.
Small. Hunched.
Facing away.
Jason’s breath caught.
Kara let out a sharp, quiet sob.
Luke whispered. "No way."
Jason took a slow step forward. "Emily?"
The thing twitched.
Its shoulders jerked.
Then—
It stood.
Not fast. Too slow. Like a puppet being lifted by invisible strings.
Jason’s stomach dropped.
Something was wrong with the way it moved.
It turned its head—but not fully.
Just enough for Jason to see the outline of its face.
A copy of Emily.
Stretched.
Wrong.
Its mouth too wide.
Its eyes too dark.
The flashlight flickered.
Jason felt Kara grab his arm, hard.
The thing smiled.
Then, in Emily’s voice, it whispered:
"You should not have come back."
The flashlight died.
The cave went black.
And the real screaming began.
Chapter Sixteen - The Truth
The darkness swallowed them whole.
Jason’s breath came fast, shallow. The cave walls pressed in around him.
Then—
A flicker of light.
Not from his flashlight.
From deeper inside.
Jason’s pulse spiked. The glow was faint—white, then orange, then blue.
The lights.
The same ones they had seen from the ridge.
Jason turned toward the others. "You see that?"
No answer.
His stomach lurched.
He turned the flashlight back on—
And Luke and Kara were gone.
Jason’s breath hitched. "No. No, no—"
The cave stretched ahead. The glow pulsed, flickering like something breathing.
Jason swallowed hard.
Then he stepped toward it.
The Chamber
The cave opened into a vast space.
Jason’s footsteps echoed. His flashlight flickered over jagged rock formations, deep crevices that seemed to pulse like veins.
And there, at the center—
Emily.
Jason’s heart stopped.
She stood in the glow of the hovering orbs, her back to him.
Her arms hung at her sides.
Her head tilted slightly, like she was listening to something he couldn’t hear.
Jason’s voice came out rough. "Emily?"
She didn’t move.
Jason took a step forward. "Emily, it’s me. It’s—"
She spoke.
Not to him.
To the lights.
Her voice was soft, distant.
"It’s not enough," she whispered. "They aren’t ready yet."
Jason’s stomach turned to ice.
Emily slowly turned her head.
Her face was pale, sunken. Her eyes too wide, too dark.
But it was her.
Jason felt it.
Emily looked at him.
Then she smiled.
"You shouldn’t have come back."
Jason took a step back. "Emily, what—"
The lights surged.
The cave rumbled. The walls shuddered like something waking up.
Jason’s breath shook. "Emily. We’re leaving. Right now."
Emily’s head tilted.
"You still don’t understand," she murmured.
Jason’s chest tightened.
Then, she raised her hand.
Jason’s body locked up.
His breath froze in his throat. His legs wouldn’t move.
The lights pulsed around her.
Emily’s smile widened.
"The land doesn’t let things go," she whispered.
Jason’s mind screamed MOVE, MOVE, MOVE—
Then the voices came.
Not Emily’s.
A thousand, whispering, layered voices.
"You were always meant to stay."
The lights rushed forward.
And Jason fell.
Chapter Seventeen - The Price
Jason couldn’t move.
The lights surged around him, pulsing, pressing, filling the cave with a low, thrumming hum that rattled in his chest.
Emily stepped forward.
The glow flickered over her face—pale, shadowed, changed.
But her voice was the same.
Soft. Familiar.
"Jason," she whispered. "I remember now."
Jason’s body was locked. His lungs burned.
Emily stepped closer.
"I remember what it is."
Jason’s breath shook. "What—"
She smiled. "The land doesn’t take."
The whispers grew. The cave shuddered.
Jason’s chest ached. His pulse pounded in his skull.
Emily’s eyes flickered with the glow.
"It’s not a monster," she murmured. "It’s not a god."
She reached out. Touched his cheek.
Jason’s body convulsed.
Visions slammed into his skull.
The Truth
He saw.
The forest was alive.
Not with roots, not with trees—
With memory.
With every soul it had ever taken.
He saw them—faces lost in the glow.
Not trapped.
Absorbed.
The lost hikers. The missing hunters. The figures that had vanished into the gorge for centuries.
They weren’t gone.
They had become part of it.
The lights were them.
A shifting, endless consciousness.
The land was memory itself.
And now—
It wanted him.
Jason’s Choice
Emily’s voice curled through his mind.
"You don’t have to fight it."
Jason’s chest ached. His mind blurred.
Memories flickered at the edges—his mother’s voice, his childhood home, the smell of summer storms.
Fading.
If he let go, he would become part of it.
Never gone.
Never alone.
Just part of the light.
Emily’s fingers brushed his temple.
Jason’s breath hitched.
Then—
A hand grabbed his wrist.
A voice, sharp, real.
"Jason!"
The light shattered.
Jason gasped, stumbling backward.
Luke.
Holding him. Yanking him out.
Jason’s legs buckled. The lights swarmed, pulsing, furious.
Emily’s face changed.
The thing wearing her skin tilted its head.
"You can’t run," she whispered.
The cave roared. The walls shook.
Jason’s vision spun.
Luke dragged him back.
Kara was at the entrance, eyes wide with terror. "Come on!"
The cave collapsed.
They ran.
Chapter Eighteen - The Escape
The ground shook beneath them.
Jason ran.
His legs burned, lungs raw from the cold, damp air rushing through the collapsing tunnel.
Luke was ahead, pulling Kara forward. Rocks tumbled around them, jagged edges slamming into the walls as the cave shrieked behind them.
Jason didn’t look back.
He wouldn’t look back.
But he could hear it—
The hum.
The voices.
The lights surging forward.
They weren’t just escaping.
They were being chased.
The Forest
They burst from the cave.
Jason’s boots hit wet earth. His body nearly collapsed from the impact, but Luke grabbed his arm, yanking him forward.
"Move!"
The forest had changed.
The trail was gone.
The trees twisted at impossible angles, branches coiling, leaves rustling with voices that weren’t the wind.
The land was shifting.
Kara stumbled. Jason caught her.
"Where’s the path?" she gasped.
Luke spun. "It’s—"
He stopped.
His breath hitched.
Jason followed his gaze.
The trail was gone.
Just endless, stretching forest.
Jason’s pulse roared. "No. No, we—" He turned in a slow, desperate circle.
There was no way out.
Luke clenched his fists. "This thing is playing with us."
The hum grew.
Jason turned—
The lights hovered between the trees.
The same ones they had seen from the ridge.
The same ones that had led them here.
But now, they moved toward them.
Kara whispered, "It’s not going to let us leave."
Jason’s mind screamed.
Then—
A flicker of memory.
The rules.
The journal.
"You must give it something you can’t take back."
Jason’s chest tightened.
What had Emily said?
"The land doesn’t take. It remembers."
Jason’s throat burned.
The land was holding them here.
Because it still had something of theirs.
Luke took a step back. "Jason—"
Jason turned to Kara. "We have to give it something."
Kara’s breath hitched. "What?"
Jason clenched his fists. "A memory. A name. Something we can’t take back."
Luke swallowed. "You think it’ll let us go?"
Jason exhaled. "I think it’s the only chance we have."
Silence.
The hum deepened. The lights moved closer.
Jason took a slow, steady breath.
Then he whispered,
"I give up Emily."
The Release
The lights stopped.
The forest shuddered.
Jason’s vision blurred. His body felt weightless—like something was being pulled from him.
Emily’s face flickered in his mind.
Her laugh. Her voice. The way she rolled her eyes when Luke made a dumb joke.
Slipping.
Fading.
Something peeling her away.
Jason’s stomach twisted.
And then—
The light blinked out.
The hum stopped.
And the forest was normal again.
The Trailhead
The trail was back.
Jason stared ahead, breathless, shaking.
The road was there. The car was there.
Luke exhaled a shuddering breath. "Holy shit."
Kara swallowed hard. "We’re out."
Jason turned back toward the trees.
The forest was silent.
Emily was gone.
Jason’s chest ached. He knew, deep down, what had happened.
They hadn’t saved her.
They had given her away.
Or maybe—
She had never really left.
Jason turned away.
He climbed into the car.
And they drove.
The Aftermath
The world felt the same.
And that was the worst part.
Jason sat in his car in front of his apartment, the engine still running, headlights pooling weakly against the pavement.
It should have felt different.
The sky should have been darker. The air should have been thicker. The world should have known what happened.
But it didn’t.
Because it had forgotten.
Jason’s hands clenched the wheel.
The drive back had been silent. No one spoke. Not when they reached the city limits. Not when they stopped for gas. Not when Luke got out at his apartment and just stood there, like he had forgotten how to say goodbye.
Jason swallowed hard.
His phone buzzed.
A text from Kara.
"I don’t remember why we went there."
Jason exhaled sharply, his pulse kicking up.
He typed back.
"Do you remember who we were with?"
Three dots appeared.
Then—
"You. Me. Luke."
Jason’s chest tightened.
He turned off the car and stepped outside.
The air was too normal. The hum of a plane overhead. The rustle of wind through the trees. The sound of a neighbor’s TV playing through an open window.
Nothing was different.
But Jason felt it.
The absence.
He reached for his phone again, opening his photos.
Every picture from the trip was still there.
The brewery. The overlook. The trail.
No fourth person.
No missing space.
It was just them.
Jason’s stomach turned.
He had given Emily to the land.
And now—
She had never existed at all.
The Memory Fades
Jason sat on his couch, staring at the floor.
Trying to hold onto what was left.
But it was slipping.
He tried to picture her face.
He could remember the idea of her.
A fourth person.
Someone laughing at the fire that first night.
But her voice?
Gone.
Her name?
Gone.
Jason’s jaw clenched.
She had been real.
She had been real.
Hadn’t she?
The Final Sign
He stood. Moved to the fridge. Grabbed a beer.
Then he saw it.
A scrap of paper, stuck beneath a takeout menu.
Something he had written before the trip.
A packing list.
Jason frowned.
The handwriting was his.
But there were only three names.
Jason. Kara. Luke.
No Emily.
Jason stared at it, chest tightening.
His own memory was lying to him.
The land hadn’t just erased her from the world.
It had erased her from him.
Jason’s hands shook.
Then, from the street below—
A car horn.
Jason flinched. Turned toward the window.
A black SUV pulled up to the curb.
A man stepped out. Older. Weathered.
Jason’s breath hitched.
The man looked up.
Met Jason’s eyes.
Then nodded.
Like he knew.
Jason’s pulse pounded.
The land had let them go.
But it wasn’t done watching.
