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You're walking home from school through the woods, a little later than usual because your teacher needed to talk to you after class about how you kept falling asleep during lessons. But you were happy to walk home, it was quiet and the leaves underneath your feet were usually crunchy. Beautiful colors too. Fall has always been your favorite season, well, minus the cold.
You continue walking until you need to check your phone for the unexpected fork in the path. You had never encountered a fork in your path when you walked home, maybe it was from the reconstruction they did a couple months ago. You look at the map on your phone, unfortunately, the gps is offline, but you look at the offline map trying to trace the fork to a part that you know. While you do that you feel a little scared, probably because you’re in the middle of the woods, where you know it’ll take you a while to walk back the path you went. Damn you and your favorite scenic route.
You suddenly realize it’s a little too quiet, you look behind you and you see a man walking the same way you came from, he’s wearing a thicker jacket as well as a black mask on his face, he was probably just sick and didn’t want to get anyone else sick, which you could tell because he seems to have grocery bags in one of his hands swinging back and forth with seemingly soup. As you watch him, he looks up at you as well. He nods his head in greeting.
“He-Hey, whatcha doing out here?” He asks, stuttering. He stops walking as soon as he’s directly in front of you.
You nod and you sigh, “My phone lost signal and I’m not sure which path goes back into town, and not further into the forest, y’know…? It just…wasn’t a fork a couple days ago.”
The man stares at you for a moment, almost like he’s assessing the situation a little too deeply. You notice that he breathes heavily, like he’s been walking for a while. He also stands very stiffly…?
“Go to the r-right one, it lead-s-s out next to that Asian Market.” He says helpfully.
You smile at him and nod. “Thank you, sir. Tell me, what’s your name?”
His eyes darted away immediately, “To-Tobias.” He mumbles, and his neck cracks in a forced motion. “G-good day.” He says quickly as he walks away from you.
“Good day to you too, Tobias!” You walk home without a second thought.
A couple nights later, Toby is out scouting on the very edge of the forest, basically edging between fences and backyards, he’s not really thinking. It’s more so of a faint droning task he has to do for a set time.
He’s in his uniform tonight, his goggles and thicker jacket hugged him with a familiar sense of comfort. He’s practically done with this task, until as he passes by a backyard, he hears someone open up their balcony door and step up onto it.
He tenses immediately, what? Well, sure people were allowed to exist, but it had spooked Toby.
And then… You step out.
Just… you.
Alive. Fine. Talking to yourself a little as you drag a chair out and sit. The phone glows, lighting your face. Completely unaware of the figure standing half-hidden between trees and fence line.
Toby stares.
He knows you.
Not well. Not really. But enough. But he remembers you from the woods, from that fork in the woods. That fork in the woods that was too close to a neighborhood that someone could’ve heard you scream.
He hadn’t expected to see you again, but god is he glad that he gets to.
You lean on the balcony railing, looking out over the yard like you’re thinking about something. It’s an ordinary moment. Boring. Safe. The kind of thing he usually ignores.
He doesn’t ignore this.
He shifts his weight and a branch barely crunches under his shoe. You don’t react. Too far. Too quiet. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His face felt warm, tingly…
There’s a strange, warm pressure in his chest that has nothing to do with the mask.
You’re so close to the woods.
Closer than you should be.
Close enough that if you leaned a little farther over that railing you’d almost be looking directly at him. He kinda wished that you would fall.
He adjusts his grip on the handle of the hatchet at his side, not lifting it — just something to do with his hands. A tic threatens to slip through; he suppresses it hard, shoulders tightening, jaw clenching under the mask.
He knows that you’re safe out here, neighbors just a couple meters away in their own houses, street lamps still on, wrong place for him to even be at. He knows better, but he doesn’t leave. He stands on the line of shadow and he watches and listens. Listen to your little laughs as you snort about something on your phone.
You stand against your railing again, phone down this time. Just staring out into the forest. At him. Well, not really. But he wishes you would see him. Scream, freak out, get hysterical…
Okay, maybe not. If you screamed, someone would come, someone coming would make this messy and not fun anymore. He knows that. He’s not stupid.
Too many lights, too many potential neighbors, too easy to trace back here.
Still, now he knows where you live. That’s new information, that’s great information. He hears as you push your chair back into your room and he watches you close your balcony. Toby stands there for a moment longer than he should.
Not tonight.
At some point, he will figure out a way to talk to you again. Even if you are screaming… freaking out… hysterical… because he’s broken into your room by your balcony, dragging you out with him. Maybe he’ll just take you off the trail next time… so many ideas, and only one perfect person it’ll work on.
He walks back into the forest, shadows taking him back.