The Scream

Chapter 10

No one slept that night. They huddled close, the newcomer's frantic words echoing in their minds:

"The darkness… it's been watching us. Waiting."

Gregory had assigned shifts for watch duty, but the unease seeped into every corner of the camp. Some survivors sat wide-eyed by the fire, nervously clutching makeshift weapons, while others paced in restless circles, casting anxious glances toward the darkened forest.

The air felt heavy, suffused with a tension that made even the smallest sounds, like the crackling fire or the rustle of fabric - unbearably loud. Tensions simmered, threatening to boil over at any moment.

"What do we even do with him?" Colton muttered, his voice low but laced with frustration. He jerked his thumb toward the newcomer, who sat huddled by the fire, rocking slightly, his gaze distant.

"We don't even know if he's telling the truth. For all we know, he's leading them to us."

Miriam, seated a little closer to the embers, turned her sharp eyes toward Colton. Her voice was steady but tinged with unease. "And if he is? Would you rather ignore it and wait for the shadows to take us too?"

Colton frowned, his fingers tapping nervously against the metal of his crowbar. "I'm saying we need to be careful. Look at him! He's already falling apart. What happens if he snaps while we're all stuck here together?"

"Enough," Gregory's gravelly voice cut through the brewing argument. His tone was firm but weary, his eyes scanning the group. "We don't have the luxury of pointing fingers. Not now. We stick together."

Austin leaned against a gnarled tree at the edge of the camp, half-listening to the exchange. His hand slipped into his pocket, brushing against the mysterious paper. Its warmth pulsed faintly against his fingers, as if alive, a silent reminder of its inexplicable nature. His thoughts drifted back to the flickering shadow he had seen in the flames earlier. Had it been real, or just a trick of his overworked mind? His stomach churned at the memory, a creeping sense of dread clawing at the edges of his thoughts.

A rustling sound from the forest snapped him out of his reverie. His eyes darted toward the noise, scanning the dense darkness beyond the camp's boundary. The trees stood tall and unyielding, their shadows blending into one another. Nothing moved. And yet, the uneasy sensation that something watched from the shadows lingered, sending a shiver down his spine.

He tightened his grip on the paper, his pulse quickening. Was it paranoia, or was the paper trying to tell him something?

The silence stretched, taut and unnerving, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the faint rustle of leaves. Shadows seemed to loom larger, creeping at the edges of vision, and the air felt charged, heavy with an unspoken dread. Then it came -

A scream, piercing and raw, shattering the fragile quiet.

The camp erupted into chaos. Survivors scrambled to their feet, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of fear and confusion.

"What was that?" Harris's panicked voice cut through the din. He grabbed a rusted pipe, his eyes wide and searching.

"Quiet!" Gregory barked, raising a hand to calm the group. His gaze swept across the camp, calculating. "Stay together. Miriam, Colton, keep an eye on the fire. Harris, with me."

Austin stayed rooted to his spot, his eyes fixed on the forest. The scream had come from there, distant but unmistakable. The paper in his pocket grew hotter, almost uncomfortably so, as if reacting to the tension. It wasn't just heat; it felt alive, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Austin clenched it tightly, a swirl of unease and curiosity gnawing at him. Why now? Why like this? For a fleeting moment, an image flared in his mind - a blurred memory of the paper's cryptic markings glowing faintly, surrounded by shadows. The sensation faded as quickly as it came, leaving behind an unsettling silence. He glanced down at it, a flicker of unease crossing his face. The warmth seemed to pulse in rhythm with his racing heart.

Gregory moved toward the edge of the camp, Harris reluctantly following. "Austin," Gregory called over his shoulder, his tone sharp. "Keep your eyes open."

Austin nodded, his hand still gripping the paper. His gaze flickered to Leah, who had remained unusually quiet. She stood near the fire, her face partially obscured by the shadows. Their eyes met briefly, and her expression was unreadable - a mix of concern and something else he couldn't place.

The group's tension hung heavy in the air as Gregory and Harris disappeared into the darkness. The remaining survivors clustered closer to the fire, their makeshift weapons clutched tightly. Every creak of the trees and every whisper of wind set their nerves on edge.

Minutes felt like hours.

Suddenly, a rustle came from the opposite side of the camp - closer this time. Heads snapped toward the sound, and Colton's grip on his crowbar tightened. "Who's there?" he demanded, his voice trembling despite his attempt at authority.

No answer. Just the rustling of leaves, as if something moved just out of sight.

Austin's heart pounded. The paper in his pocket was almost scorching now, its heat seeping through the fabric. He pulled it out, the faint glow emanating from its surface barely noticeable but enough to catch his attention. It pulsed, as if alive, and a strange sensation washed over him - a mix of fear and compulsion.

Before he could make sense of it, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Gregory, his face pale, his eyes wide with something Austin had never seen in him before: raw fear.

"We need to leave," Gregory said, his voice low but urgent. "Now."

Harris stumbled into view behind him, clutching his arm, which was smeared with blood.

"It's not safe," he choked out. "There's something out there. Something watching."

The group froze, their fear mirrored in each other's faces. The fire crackled softly, its light casting long, wavering shadows.

"Where's Harris?" Miriam asked, her voice unsteady.Gregory hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words. His hands trembled. "He didn't make it," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It… it came out of nowhere. He told me to run."

The survivors stared at him in stunned silence, the weight of his words sinking in. The firelight flickered across their faces, illuminating their growing terror.

Austin looked down at the paper in his hand. Its warmth had subsided, but the faint glow remained, almost as if it were waiting - for what, he couldn't say.

Gregory's voice broke through the silence. "Pack what you can carry. We leave before dawn."

The survivors moved in tense, hurried motions, their fear palpable. Austin slipped the paper back into his pocket, his mind racing. Whatever was happening, the paper was tied to it. He could feel it. And as he glanced toward the darkened forest one last time, he couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching.