Chapter 6: The Silence Before the Storm

The wind stirred the branches above, sending dry leaves fluttering around our small campfire. The dancing flames cast flickering shadows on the trees, twisting and stretching like phantom arms reaching out from the darkness. The night had settled in thick and heavy, wrapping around us in a quiet stillness that felt unnatural.

Echo was the first to sense it. One moment, he was lying at my feet, his body curled comfortably beside me. The next, his head snapped up, his ears stiff and alert. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest. His golden eyes glowed in the firelight, scanning the darkness beyond our circle of safety.

I frowned, shifting slightly to follow his gaze. "Echo?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

Alice looked up from where she was inspecting her pack, oblivious at first. "What's wrong?" she asked, still distracted, but then she saw the tension in Echo's posture, the way his fur bristled along his back. Her face paled.

"I don't know," I admitted, gripping the handle of my knife. "But he hears something."

The fire crackled loudly in the tense silence. The forest was too quiet. No chirping insects, no rustling of small animals in the underbrush—just the steady whisper of the wind through the trees.

Alice slowly reached for her flare gun, her fingers fumbling slightly. "It's probably just... I don't know, an animal?" she offered, but there was little conviction in her voice.

Echo suddenly let out a sharp bark, jumping to his feet. His growl deepened, turning into a warning. I stood quickly, my heart hammering in my chest.

Then it came.

A sound unlike anything I had ever heard.

A scream, high-pitched and jagged, echoing through the trees. It wasn't human. It wasn't animal. It was something else entirely—something raw and primal, a sound that sent a wave of nausea rolling through my stomach.

Alice sucked in a sharp breath, her hands tightening around the flare gun. "Toni…"

"I know," I muttered, scanning the dark tree line. "I heard it too."

The scream faded into the night, but the weight it left behind didn't. The air felt thick, suffocating.

Then the trees shifted.

Not the trees themselves, but the shadows between them. A shape, indistinct and unnatural, blurred at the edges like it wasn't bound by the same rules of reality as the rest of the world. It was tall, unnaturally so, with limbs that stretched a fraction too long, moving with a slow, deliberate grace that made my stomach twist in unease.

Echo's growl faltered. He was scared. That alone was enough to set every nerve in my body on edge.

Alice took an instinctive step backward, gripping my arm. "Toni," she whispered, voice trembling.

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was frozen, every fiber of my being screaming at me to run, but my feet wouldn't move. My mind refused to process what I was seeing.

The thing took a step forward. Its foot landed softly on the ground, making no sound, no disturbance in the dirt or leaves. It was like it didn't quite belong to this world.

Then it smiled.

A slow, grotesque stretching of a mouth that seemed too wide, the corners of its lips curling unnaturally. There were no teeth. No features beyond the vague hollowness of eyes that reflected the firelight in an unnatural glow.

Alice's grip tightened on my arm. "What the hell is that?"

I didn't know.

I didn't want to know.

It took another step, and the air grew colder. My breath misted in the night, the temperature plummeting so quickly that the fire flickered as if struggling to stay alive.

Echo barked again, but it was different this time—a desperate sound, more fear than aggression. He took a step back, his tail tucked between his legs.

We had to go.

I grabbed Alice's wrist. "Run."

She hesitated, frozen in fear, but I yanked her hard, snapping her out of it. She didn't need any more convincing.

We bolted.

The moment our feet hit the dirt, the creature moved. It didn't run—it didn't need to. The shadows around it stretched unnaturally, twisting toward us like reaching hands, closing the distance faster than it should have been able to.

The trees blurred as we ran. My breath burned in my lungs, but I didn't stop. Alice was right behind me, her breaths ragged, the flare gun still clutched in her hand. Echo stayed close, his paws thudding against the ground as he kept pace.

The scream came again, closer this time, rattling inside my skull like it was trying to burrow into my mind. It made my vision blur for a second, my legs faltering.

"Toni!" Alice grabbed me, keeping me from stumbling. "Keep running!"

The trees thinned up ahead. I spotted the ruins we had passed earlier—half-collapsed walls covered in vines, remnants of a long-forgotten civilization. It wasn't much, but it was shelter.

"We can take cover there!" I gasped.

Alice didn't question it. We pushed forward, adrenaline numbing the pain in my legs, the tightness in my chest. We reached the first wall, ducking behind it just as the air behind us seemed to shift.

I turned in time to see the creature halt at the edge of the ruins. It didn't cross.

It couldn't cross.

It stood just beyond the threshold, watching us, its head tilting in slow, unnatural movements. The white glow of its hollow eyes never blinked.

Alice was panting, her back against the crumbling stone. "It's not following us."

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing. My hands were shaking. "No. It's not."

Echo stayed close, his body still tense, but his growling had stopped. He, too, could sense it—this place was different. It was safe.

For now.

Alice swallowed hard, staring at the creature still lingering at the edge of the ruins. "What the hell did we just run from?"

I didn't have an answer.

I wasn't even sure I wanted one.

One thing was clear, though.

We weren't alone in these woods.

And whatever else was out there—whatever it was—it was watching. Waiting.

And it wasn't done with us yet.