The Unraveling

Chapter 16 

Austin stumbled through the underbrush, the forest clinging to him like a living thing. The remnants of the altar still burned in his mind: Theo's final screams, the writhing mass of flesh and machinery, the whisper that had called his name.

Leah leaned heavily against him, her breaths shallow, blood seeping through the bandages hastily wrapped around her wound.

The trees around them groaned, shifting, their gnarled limbs twisting as if watching their retreat. Even with the altar destroyed, the forest felt no safer. If anything, it felt worse. The whispers had not stopped. They had changed.

They were speaking directly to him now.

You are marked.

The voice slithered through his skull, neither male nor female, neither a whisper nor a scream. It was simply there, like a parasite burrowing into the folds of his mind. Austin clenched his teeth, shaking his head violently, but the words remained.

By the time they reached the camp, the sun had begun to rise, casting sickly golden light over the barricades. But the sight that met them chilled him to the bone.

People were gathered near the center of the camp, whispering among themselves. Their faces were pale, their eyes darting between one another in barely concealed terror. Something had happened.

"Austin," Leah breathed, gripping his arm. "Something's wrong."

As they pushed through the crowd, a familiar face came into view - Noah, one of the younger scouts. He sat on the ground, his knees drawn to his chest, his fingers tangled in his own hair. His lips moved rapidly, but no sound came out.

"He came back like this," someone murmured. "Found him outside the barricade just before dawn."

Austin crouched beside Noah. "Hey. Noah. Look at me."

The boy's eyes snapped to him, wide and unfocused. His pupils were pinpricks, his skin clammy with sweat. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said something that sent ice down Austin's spine.

"They know," Noah rasped. "They know we saw."

Austin swallowed hard. "Who?"

Noah's mouth twisted, as if struggling against invisible forces. "The watchers."

A heavy silence fell over the camp.

Then, without warning, Noah's body convulsed. His eyes rolled back, his limbs jerking violently. Foam bubbled from his mouth, and before Austin could react, Noah let out a choked scream.

A scream that wasn't his own.

It was Theo's.

Austin's vision blurred. The whispers roared in his skull. His skin felt wrong, as if something inside him was shifting, stretching, waking up. He gasped, clutching his head, the world twisting around him.

And for a brief second, he wasn't in the camp anymore.

He was back in the forest.

Standing before the altar.

Except this time, the tendrils weren't pulling Theo in.

They were pulling him.

A sharp pain snapped him back. Leah had grabbed his wrist, her nails digging into his flesh. "Austin! Snap out of it!"

His breath hitched, and the vision faded, leaving behind a splitting headache. He stared at Leah, then at Noah, who had gone still. His chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, his eyes glazed over. Whatever had taken hold of him had finally let go.

But something told Austin it wasn't over.

Not for him.

Not by a long shot.

Later that night, the tension in the camp had thickened. Survivors huddled in small groups, casting nervous glances toward where Noah was now restrained, tied down with whatever rope and cloth they could find.

The whispers of the watchers spread like infection - some claimed Noah had been possessed, others insisted he was a warning. A few argued about whether they should exile him before something else came looking for him.

The air itself felt heavier, saturated with unease. The wind carried strange echoes, like laughter distorted through broken radios. Some swore they saw shapes moving beyond the barricade, just out of reach of the firelight.

"Austin," Leah whispered, pulling him aside near the fire. Her voice was low, urgent. "Your nose… it's bleeding."

He touched his upper lip, and sure enough, blood smeared his fingers. His vision swam for a second before stabilizing. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not," she insisted. "You've been off ever since - since that place. And Noah…" She hesitated, glancing toward the restrained boy.

"Austin, he screamed in Theo's voice."

Austin didn't respond. He didn't know how to. He was too focused on the way his own hands looked in the firelight - his nails appeared darker, slightly elongated. His skin felt too tight, stretched over his bones like it was adjusting to something new.

The fire crackled. Shadows twisted unnaturally against the camp walls. He wasn't sure if it was just the flames or if something else was moving.

Then, he felt it again.

A presence.

Watching.

His breath came out in shallow pants as he looked down at the paper in his hands. The words had changed again, shifting like fresh wounds carved into the parchment.

You were never meant to escape.

His hands trembled. The fire reflected in his eyes, making his face appear hollow, gaunt. His heart pounded against his ribs. A strange, foreign pulse thrummed beneath his skin.

A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision.

Leah turned her head sharply, as if she had seen it too. "Did you - ?"

A branch snapped somewhere beyond the camp's perimeter.

Austin's breath hitched. Every instinct screamed at him to not look, to pretend it wasn't there.

But his body disobeyed him.

Slowly, his gaze shifted to the darkness beyond the barricades.

A figure stood there.

Tall. Motionless. Its face was blurred, as if reality itself refused to define it.

Then, in a voice that came from nowhere and everywhere, it spoke.

"You are becoming one of us."

Austin exhaled, and for the briefest moment, he swore his breath was colder than the night air.