Creepy Family Reunion

The sky had dipped into its golden hour when they found themselves on the edge of town — where sidewalks cracked into gravel and the streetlights stopped working.

The map led them along an old trail, half-swallowed by weeds and silence. Samantha held it tight as they walked. Strangely, the path seemed to match perfectly — even the broken fences and strange, crooked trees were drawn in fine ink.

"I swear, if this turns into a found footage horror movie, I'm blaming you," Ron muttered.

"It won't. Probably."

The air around them shifted the deeper they walked — quieter, like sound itself didn't want to echo too far. Samantha shivered. Ron noticed.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "Just... familiar. I don't know why."

They crossed a rusted gate that groaned on its hinges. Beyond it, the trees parted slightly to reveal a clearing. It didn't look like much — some scattered rocks, a small dry fountain in the center, vines curling around stone like fingers grasping secrets.

Then they saw him.

A figure. Up ahead. Standing alone in the clearing where the map ended.

Not moving. Not threatening. Just... waiting.

They hesitated, then walked forward.

He was tall. Clean. Looked young, but not in a soft way — more like a memory carved into flesh. He smiled when they stopped in front of him.

"So. You made it."

Samantha narrowed her eyes. "You were expecting us?"

Before he could answer, two more figures stepped out from the trees behind him.

J.

And the hooded figure.

Ron groaned. "Oh, great. Creepy family reunion."

J smirked, hands on her hips. "It's about time you slowpokes got here."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, sorry, not all of us have cryptic teleportation powers and bad fashion sense."

J flicked imaginary dust off her jacket. "It's called mystique, loser."

Samantha rubbed her temples. "Do you two ever stop?"

"Nope," they said in unison.

There was a pause. The sun dipped lower, brushing gold across the clearing. Samantha felt the moment tighten around them — like the world was holding its breath.

She looked at the map again. Only to realize — it was fading. The ink bleeding into nothing.

"Ron..."

"Yeah, I see it," he said, peering over her shoulder. "That's not creepy at all."

The map dissolved between her fingers. Dust and ink and something older than both.

The hooded figure stepped forward at last, his voice calm, steady.

"Now that you're here... we can begin."

Samantha glanced at Ron, who whispered under his breath, "I have a bad feeling about this."

J rolled her eyes. "Relax, Han Solo. No one's dying today. Probably."

"That's not comforting, J."

She smirked. "Wasn't trying to be."

Still, there was a strange energy between them — the kind that hinted at familiarity beneath all the bickering.

Samantha took a slow breath, steadying herself. Whatever was coming… she was ready. Or at least, ready enough.

Because the only way out now — was through.