Chapter Text
The late, afternoon sun bled through the trees, warm and golden, the last rays beaming against Juan’s face as he walked the familiar path to his village. He’d walked this trail what felt like a hundred times with his younger sister, Tina, but rarely alone, and never after dark. Their parents had forbidden it without ever explaining why, a warning Juan once chalked up to superstition.
But now that he is older, he told himself those stories don’t really scare him anymore. But this would be the first time he walked this path alone. The sky began to turn a dark blue as the sun slowly descended behind the tall trees, the path becoming more dim as Juan went.
The walk started out as normal as before, birds chirping, flying from one tree to another, crickets filling the dull silence, and wind silently brushing through leaves. But as Juan walked further and further, as he took his usual turn toward the village, something felt familiar, but almost too familiar. He looked to his right and saw a tall crooked tree that he could have sworn he just passed not too long ago.
He felt a sudden wave of déjà vu, but continued along the now dark path. If Juan knew it would take this long he would have brought a light. It did feel longer than usual. But she figured it was the lack of having his sister to keep his company.
But that sense of déjà vu twisted into confusion. Something was off about the path. He should have seen the opening to the woods by now. But with every turn, his destination only seemed farther away. Maybe he’d taken the wrong turn? No, that didn’t make sense, he’d walked this path countless times. How could he make such a mistake? It hadn’t even been that dark when Juan started. Perhaps he simply misjudged the distance.
But as he reached the same right turn where the opening should have been, the tall, crooked tree loomed there again, almost mocking him. He stopped, staring at it in utter bewilderment.
But the tree wasn’t his biggest concern. The woods were deafeningly silent. No chirping birds, no crickets, no whispering wind, only the sound of twigs and leaves snapping under Juan’s shoes.
A pit of anxiety settled heavy in his chest. The woods he had played in his entire life, the woods he knew like the back of his hand, suddenly felt unsafe. Juan felt eyes on him from every direction, each shadow a pitch-black unknown. The longer he stood there, the more it seemed the forest itself didn’t want him. Finally, he forced himself to move, though unease prickled along his skin and he kept glancing over his shoulder.
Juan could swear the trees were leaning more toward him, like they will drag him into the void of trees if he step too close. His ears strained to find any noise other than his heart pounding in his ears. All he could hear was the sound of sticks under him shoes snapping, making his heart jump occasionally.
He could swear some sticks breaking were farther away out of his line of sight. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching. Juan’s eyes scanned the trees intently, every shadow looked like a black silhouette each getting closer the more panic set in.
His calm walk slowly began to turn into a slight jog, his mind beginning to spiral from the silence that made his ears ring.
This isn’t right, is Juan going in circles? Did he really take a wrong turn earlier? Juan’s sense of direction never failed him in the past. Was his memory of this path warped and he forgot? He had to take the wrong turn, that was the only sensible thing he could think of. Because the latter didn’t make logical sense. He stopped moving to take in his surroundings.
It didn’t help much, nothing looked familiar anymore. Maybe it was the darkness, but the trees seemed warped and twisted, their shapes distorted into something alien. The path he thought he knew had vanished, and panic began to claw its way up his chest. He tried to breathe, but it felt as though the very air was crushing his lungs. As if the forest could sense his fear, a faint sound, like something moving, whispered from behind him. Juan froze, every muscle locked tight, his ears straining. His eyes darted to every patch of moonlight between the branches. Nothing. Only the ragged sound of his own hyperventilating filled the silence. He continued to scan, trying so hard to move his stoned legs.
But from behind him, he could hear the faint noise of something moving again, this time closer. The panic fully set in and all he could hear was his gut begging him to run. Juan’s legs finally broke from the trance and he began sprinting in the direction he prayed was home. Juan wasn’t much of a runner, but in this moment he felt like he could outrun anything in his way.
He ran for what felt like hours and every turn he took felt exactly the same as the last. How was this even possible? He didn’t care, he kept running no matter how much it burned.
Despite the crunch of leaves and sticks under his own feet, Juan could swear something was keeping pace just behind him. It moved with an unnerving, fluid grace, almost like a deer slipping through the trees, but the sound was heavier, deliberate. His stomach dropped, but he didn’t dare slow down, no matter how his legs screamed in protest.
Each turn looked identical to the last, the path looping endlessly, but the presence closing in behind him drove him onward, past the point of exhaustion. Out of the corner of his eye, a flicker of movement darted between the trees, gone before he could be sure it was real.
Despite the flicker of movement in his peripheral, he pushed himself past the point of exhaustion. Then, a break in the darkness. Just ahead, between the crooked trunks, a tall silhouette stood perfectly still. His heart leapt. It looked like a man, standing tall not too far from him. Relief flooded his chest, almost enough to choke him.
“Help!” Juan’s voice came out weakly, almost like he had yelled already, but was only the first time he had spoken in hours. But he didn’t give in and kept screaming toward the black silhouette, who didn’t seem to flinch to the sound of his desperate screams.
Juan felt tears burn at the corners of his eyes, safety seemed so close he could almost taste it. He stumbled forward, breath hitching only for his hope to twist into dread. The “man” he thought would save his was only a gnarled tree, its branches reaching like grasping arms. The forest swallowed his hope, replacing it with that deafening, endless silence. Then panic struck, he was still being followed. Before he could catch his breath or summon the last of his adrenaline, the very tree that had seemed his salvation snagged his shoe on a low branch, sending him crashing to the ground.
He stayed down longer than he meant to, his body refusing to move after being pushed past its limits. With trembling arms, Juan forced himself upright, scraping together what little strength he had left, just in time to see something ahead shift in the darkness, moving toward him at an unhurried pace.
He willed his legs to run, but they wouldn’t obey. Panic surged, raw and electric, tears spilling faster as the horrible certainty settled in: this was it. The sound of footsteps grew louder, slow, deliberate but still soft enough that his own ragged breathing nearly drowned them out. He managed to inch backward, desperate for space, only to bump against a tree trunk that cut off his last escape.
His eyes darted to every gap between the trees, every patch of moonlight he could find. His breath hitched, then broke into shaky, silent sobs. The path, gone. Erased. As if it had never been there at all.
Flashes of his life hit him in jagged pieces. The woods he thought he knew. The games he played here with Tina. Her laugh echoing through these same trees. Would he ever see her again? Or were these moments, the fear, the darkness, the ache in her chest the last pieces he’d have of her?
His thoughts were interrupted by something shifting in his peripheral vision. The silhouette was large but moved quietly out of sight again. He froze, heart hammering, eyes locked on the place where the shape had been. A single leaf drifted to the ground, unnervingly loud in the stillness. Then, a faint crunch of twigs not too far from in front of him.
The sudden appearance made him stammer back against the tree. If Juan’s heart wasn’t loud before, it was practically all he could hear, besides his silent cries for any sudden miracle. But the figure only approached him, proving his worst fears true.
He couldn’t bear to look death in the eye. Even if he tried, the tears stung too sharply for him to see the figure clearly. Juan lowered his gaze to the ground, shoulders shaking, silently accepting his fate, praying, through ragged sobs, that whatever waited for him would make it quick. The movement in front of him stopped, so close it could have been breathing on him ,but Juan didn’t dare lift his gaze. The silence roared in his ears, a terrible, crushing quiet that only deepened his dread.
He just wanted it over. Why did it feel like an eternity? The figure shifted again, so near now he could almost feel the air stir with its breath. Each slow, deliberate movement stretched the moment thinner. Why was it stalling? Was it savoring this, mocking his terror? Curling himself tight against the tree, he pressed her face into his arms, as if hiding could save him. The crunch of leaves grew louder, deliberate. He begged for mercy in a whisper that barely escaped his lips, the words breaking apart into sobs before they could form.
A flicker of confusion cut through his fear, sharp enough to make him hesitate. He almost dared to look, but terror anchored his gaze to the ground. Then, a sudden touch on his arm jolted every thought from his head. He gasped and tried to wrench himself free, but the hand held firm. He was too drained, his strength long since spent on his frantic escape. Then, to his shock, the grip softened, still steady, but gentle now. Too tired to resist, Juan let himself yield.
Minutes passed, and still, nothing. Confused, Juan finally dared to glance at his arm, still caught in that grip. To his shock, the figure wasn’t menacing at all. It was…gentle, almost careful, as though studying the wound he’d gotten when he’d fallen. He hadn’t even realized he was bleeding until now. Why would this…whatever it was care? Why was it quietly tending to him instead of killing him? And why did its hand feel warm….alive, when he’d been so sure it would be ice-cold?
Juan didn’t even notice his sobs had stopped as the figure silently, tended to his wound the best it could. It’s hands were large, but it’s movements were so delicate. She almost wanted to ask who they were, but exhaustion truly took all the breath from her, plus she still wasn’t sure she wanted to even speak to them.
But..he couldn’t deny, it was helping him. As Juan processed this, the figure finally finished whatever it did to tend his arm. But it didn’t remove it’s hand so quickly. It stayed there for a moment, as if contemplating something.
After a long, quiet moment, it finally let go. To his own surprise, Juan almost missed its warmth, the sensation of its touch lingering like a phantom against his skin. He drew a shaky breath and summoned what little bravery he had left, lifting his gaze toward the creature. Its face was hooded, the darkness swallowing every detail. All he could make out were two green eyes glinting faintly back at her. They were sharp, unyielding…yet not unkind. Juan expected terror to take him, but instead, an unfamiliar calm slipped in, as if those eyes carried a quiet promise of safety he couldn’t explain.
“Juan!” A sudden shout from the distance brought him back to being alert again. But it wasn’t fear, the voice was familiar but terrified. A wave of energy hit him as he scanned the woods looking for any sign of the voice. Finally at the corner of his eye, he caught a faint light in the distance.
“JUAN!!!” The voice screamed again, this time more guttural and panicked. His chest filled with hope and he could feel the tears begin to fall again. It was Tina, he could recognize that voice anywhere.
“TINA!!” His voice cracked painfully as he screamed with all his strength, but he didn’t care all he could feel was relief to hear his sister’s voice.
The light, stopped for just a moment, but immediately darted in the direction of his scream. He could almost laugh with the amount of relief that filled his heart, the light coming so close that he could actually make out the familiar silhouette of his own flesh and blood.
“Juan, Oh my god!” Tina didn’t hesitate to kneel beside her now teary-eyed brother, hugging him tightly. She refused to let Juan go for what felt like forever but was only a moment. She assessed him to make sure he was okay, but refused to take her eyes off him for even a second.
“Let’s go home, okay?” Tina’s voice was shaky, but also clearly relieved he was alive. Juan nodded, holding onto her sister’s arm for support to stand. His body now shaky from the loss of adrenaline made it difficult to stand, but his sister supported his weight.
She led him to the path that he could have sworn hadn’t been there earlier, but he didn’t bother questioning what had happened in the last few hours. As they were about to leave, he paused and glanced over his shoulder for the figure, but by the time his sister reached him, maybe even before, the creature was gone, as if it had never existed. How it moved that fast, that quietly without him noticing, is beyond understanding. Tina didn’t ask any questions, only looked at his brother with a flicker of confusion. Juan scanned the trees one last time and accepted the truth: they were gone. He felt a faint pang of sadness, he wasn’t sure why. All he wanted now was to be home, back in his village, in his house, safe in bed. Without a word, he hugged Tina tightly, and together they continued down the path.
As they walked silently side by side, Juan noticed the woods had returned to their familiar, gentle rhythm, the crickets and birds chirping once more, a soft wind whispering through the leaves. The path felt like the same one he had known his whole life. The darkness no longer twisted the trees and shadows into something unrecognizable. For a moment, it almost felt like it had all been a nightmare.
But the figure’s hand, delicately wrapped around his arm, reminded him that it had all truly happened, the oppressive darkness, the suffocating silence, the path vanishing beneath his feet… and the presence that had been there.
The figure he had feared would be the last thing he ever saw had become… his savior. But why? If it had truly wanted to kill Juan, why tend his wounds? Why hadn’t it taken her last breath if blood was all it sought? Why did it look at him so intensely, yet with a strange tenderness in its eyes? He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still watching, still calculating, even as it walked silently beside him.
These questions swirled in his mind as he finally glimpsed the familiar, welcoming opening of the woods that led straight to his village. Juan’s knees threatened to give out from relief and exhaustion, but with his sister supporting him, he pressed on, almost dragging himself forward. In that moment, despite everything, he couldn’t remember ever feeling happier, but somewhere in the shadows of his mind, a small, uneasy thought whispered that this wasn’t over.
He was shocked to see so many people out as late as they were, but they all seemed relieved, celebrating his safe return. They surrounded him with hugs, and some even brought food and water. Tears streamed down the faces of neighbors who he hadn’t expected to see outside at all, their joy and relief almost overwhelming. Some were even openly crying, clinging to him as if they had feared he would never come back. Juan tried to reconcile it in his mind, surely only a few hours had passed? But something in the way the sky had darkened, and the quiet stretch of the village streets, made him wonder if those hours had been far longer than he realized. Regardless, he clung to the warmth of their welcome, grateful for every comforting hand, every shared smile, and every voice that told him she was truly home.
…as Juan and Tina said goodbye to the last neighbor, a pit lingered in the bottom of his stomach. For a moment, he thought he saw the shadow of something moving at the edge of the trees, watching him... He blinked, and it was gone, the pit only grew in his stomach, but he wasn’t afraid. It only made Juan more curious.
Juan stepped into their cottage, the warmth and chatter of the village and his beloved sister still wrapping around him like a blanket. But as he closed the door behind her, a cold draft slipped through, brushing against her skin.
Looking toward the window, he could see the forest’s edge from afar. He met the darkness not with fear, but with a flicker of…something else. The figure was waiting… watching. And for the first time, she wondered if she’d ever truly left those woods behind.