The search for Lila

The four of them were calmer now; the adrenaline from fleeing school had dissipated, but a new, colder tension settled among them—a foreboding of what was to come.

Sofi felt relieved—her silent obsession with the disappearances finally had a grip, a direction.

Javi, meanwhile, felt his wall of skepticism cracking, forced to accept a reality his mind refused to process.

It was Vale who broke the tense silence. Her voice was soft—almost a whisper—but the question hung in the air with unusual weight.

"So… are we actually going to look for Lila's house?"

The idea, though terrifying, was also the only one that offered any possibility of answers.

Javi muttered from his corner of the couch, his tone laced with sour sarcasm—a last stand of his rationality.

"How ridiculous… now we think we're detectives."

The thought of themselves—ordinary teenagers—searching for a mysterious woman in an unknown town struck him as absurd.

Dani, however, despite the gravity of the situation, couldn't suppress a smile.

"Yes! Obviously! Isn't it awesome? It's like a real adventure—but with real dangers and weird stuff nobody else sees!"

His imagination, unleashed, was already spinning the narrative of his own heroic story.

Sofi simply nodded, a barely perceptible smile carrying deep satisfaction. For her, this was much more than an adventure—it was the confirmation of her worst fears and the beginning of her search for the truth. Her obsession now had meaning, a defined purpose.

Her friends' eyes turned to Javi, awaiting his response. He sighed—a heavy exhalation bearing the weight of the world—shrugged resignedly, and finally nodded. Resistance was pointless. He was as trapped in this as they were.

Sofi rose with renewed resolution. "Alright." She stretched slightly, then added in a more practical tone: "Just remember—we need to be back before two. My parents can't know we ran away."

Dani shrugged casually. "They already saw me, but I don't care. Besides, I was gonna get a scolding anyway."

Sofi grabbed her backpack, pulling out a water bottle, snack bars, a crumpled map, even a small flashlight—packing with an almost exaggerated precision for what looked like a few hours outing.

Dani raised an eyebrow. "Going camping or what? It's not like we're heading to the moon, Sofi."

She didn't answer. She just looked at him. Then she opened the door and gestured for them to follow. The afternoon sun warmed their faces as they ventured out into the village again—this time with purpose, albeit dangerous.

They arrived at the town library—a modest red-brick building, quieter than the school, but with a reverential stillness that invited study. The air smelled of old paper and polished wax.

Leading the group, Sofi approached the counter where Doña Carmen, the librarian—gray-haired, glasses perched at the tip of her nose—greeted them with customary warmth, a gentle smile.

"Hello, kids, need help with something today?" Doña Carmen's voice was soft and welcoming.

Without hesitation, Sofi took the portrait of Lila from her pocket and slid it across the counter. "Miss Carmen, we'd like to ask you about this drawing—and about the woman who made it, someone named Lila."

The instant Doña Carmen laid eyes on the portrait, her face shifted completely. The friendliness vanished—replaced by surprise, then discomfort, and finally barely hidden fear. Her lips pressed together thinly, her eyes widened slightly—the spark of warmth extinguished.

She picked up the portrait with trembling hands. "Oh… that? Why are you interested in this?"

Her voice had lost its sweetness—now tense and sharp. "I… I don't know anything about her. I think she moved away or something. It's an old story—doesn't matter."

The change was drastic, abrupt—and all four teens noticed immediately. Doña Carmen—usually so transparent in her feelings—now seemed to be hiding something. She quickly excused herself, almost pushing them away, and moved to a remote section of the library, her back stiff.

They exchanged glances. The silence now carried a new understanding.

Sofi was the first to break it—her voice quieter than normal but filled with confirmation. "Did you see how she changed? Exactly like Mrs. Davies the other day."

Vale, watching Doña Carmen's tense posture, voiced a new suspicion. "She has to know something. To draw a portrait in the library, you must fill out a form with personal info—name, address—it's standard, right?"

Dani nodded excitedly, already thinking ahead. "Yes! Totally! I did that once for a drawing contest—I had to fill in even my grandparents' blood type."

Javi frowned, already a step ahead. "That info is stored in the library files—in the basement. And it's locked."

The truth struck Sofi like lightning. She nodded, frustrated, unsure what to do—those basement archives were legendary for being inaccessible.

But Dani, ever bold, didn't back down. "So what? Let's go get it!"

Javi shot him a skeptical glance. "It's locked, Dani. We can't just… go in."

Vale, who had been silent and focused on her hands, suddenly smiled mischievously. She pulled out a metal paperclip, polished and slightly bent.

Sofi looked in shock. "Why do you have that, Vale?"

Vale shrugged nonchalantly. "Just in case."

She approached a wooden door hidden behind a shelf of encyclopedias. It was old, with a simple latch. With the clip in hand, she began to pick the lock. Seconds passed in tense silence—only the faint metallic ticks of the mechanism. Then, with a soft but audible click, the door opened.

They descended in silence. The wood creaked beneath their feet as they closed the door behind them, plunging into the damp, cool darkness of the basement.

The basement air was dense—heavy with the smell of old paper, mold, decades of dust. Scant light filtered through a small window near floor level, barely illuminating narrow aisles between towering shelves stuffed with yellowed folders, wooden filing cabinets, old boxes—many covered in cobwebs. It was a cemetery of information, where time seemed frozen.

Despite the gloom, Dani couldn't resist breaking the silence. "What a day… I love it. This feels like a real mystery film."

Vale shot him a stern look. "Dani, this is not a game. Seriously."

Her voice was firm, yet the excitement in it was unmistakable. Dangerous as it was, this was the most real adventure they'd ever had. They focused. Sofi's small flashlight cut through the dark.

They spread out, moving between narrow aisles, scanning dusty labels. They searched files of people who had participated in portrait projects or art contests—anything that required personal info. Sofi's hands moved methodically through the filings. Javi, still skeptical, helped silently. Vale focused on entries, scanning for the letter "L".

Suddenly, a triumphant shout echoed in the basement—like thunder breaking the silence. "Got it! Here it is! Look!"

It was Dani—chaotic as ever—who had knocked a box of cards to the floor, scattering them, but revealing one important card.

Sofi hurried, crouching to rescue it before Dani damaged it further. She read the handwritten entry. "Yes… it's her! Lila M. Salazar!"

She spoke in hushed triumph. Javi peeked over her shoulder. "How many Lilas could live in this little town? There's only one, for sure."

His voice carried new conviction—reality was finally sinking in. Sofi smiled, a genuine smile. "Exactly. And here's her address: Willow Path, number 16."

When Vale heard the address, she frowned. "Isn't that the house deep in the forest? The secluded one?"

Javi nodded, his face tightening slightly. "Yes. That one. It's isolated. And this… this gives me bad vibes. That place is abandoned—and the townsfolk say it's… haunted."

His voice was quieter than usual. Sofi looked at them all—her eyes bright with unbreakable resolve. "We have to go. We have to find out what's behind the disappearances—what this is all about. This is our only chance."

Vale nodded, still afraid, but driven by the need for answers. Dani nodded too, his youthful enthusiasm intact. Javi sighed with resignation. "For God's sake…"

His words expressed frustration and acceptance that there was no turning back—they were now too deeply involved. Sofi slipped the card into her pocket. The four left the basement, the faint squeal of the closing door echoing behind them.

They left the basement quietly, the soft squeal of the door echoing behind them. The walk out was long and silent. They left the paved streets behind and ventured onto a narrow dirt path overgrown with weeds and shrubs. The late afternoon sunlight was deepening, coloring the sky with oranges and purples, and casting long, twisted shadows that seemed to shift with every breeze. The air grew heavier and more oppressive, as if the forest was closing in around them.

Eventually, the path opened onto a clearing at the edge of a dense, dark forest. Within the twisted trees stood a decrepit wooden house—solitary and worn-down. The windows were broken, dark holes staring like empty eyes. Ivy choked much of the exterior, as if the house were suffocating under its own weight. The front porch was sagging and rotted, and a grave silence enveloped the place.

Dani, trying to cut through the tension with his usual humor, whispered, "…definitely haunted." But his voice lacked its usual cheer, betraying his rising anxiety.

They advanced with extreme caution, their steps soundless on the dry earth. The front door hung slightly ajar, a dark slit that beckoned entry while simultaneously warning of danger. The wind whispered through the gap.

Sofi pushed the door open slowly. Inside, chaos reigned. Furniture was overturned, chairs knocked down, cushions torn apart. Papers littered the floor like a snow of secrets. Paintings hung askew, their broken glass scattered like shards of a shattered reflection. It was clear: someone had forced their way in—or a violent struggle had taken place.

"Someone broke in," Vale murmured, her voice tight with tension.

Javi pointed out some deep, scrape-like gouges in the door frame. "Look at these marks. It doesn't look like they used a crowbar."

Signs of struggle were everywhere: a broken floor lamp lay shattered, its fragments forming a puzzle on the floor. Above it, on the wall, were dark, blurred stains.

"Is that… dust? Soot?" Dani whispered. The irregular shape and strange texture suggested something else—something organic, unsettling.

They moved through the house with a mix of fear and purpose. They searched every room: empty cabinets, disheveled beds, overturned drawers. But they found no one. No Lila. No clue.

Sofi let out a frustrated sigh. "Maybe someone got here before us… before we did."

The implication was chilling: whoever took Lila—or whatever happened—hadn't left any loose ends.

Just as they turned to leave, the forest seemed to close in around them. A cold shiver ran through their bodies—nothing to do with the thinning daylight.

They backed away from the house; the wind stopped whispering. An oppressive silence enveloped them. And then…

A presence materialized beyond the trees.

A form emerged from the woodland shadows. Tall, stooped, distort‑ed. As if made of living shadow. Its skin was dark and grainy. Its eyes, if they existed, were sunken voids—devoid of light or empathy. Long, sharp claws gleamed faintly in the dim light. The creature didn't run. Its steps were slow, deliberate—each landing a muted thud in the silent evening.

Sofi saw it first. A terrified whisper escaped her lips. "Guys… behind the trees…"

They turned as panic began to rise in their chests. Javi's heart pounded. Vale let out a soft gasp.

The creature continued toward them—an unnatural blot in the twilight.

Dani, in a burst of reckless courage, shouted, "Run! I'll distract it!"

Javi screamed back, terrified. "You're insane! You can't stay— it'll catch you!"

But Dani didn't waver. "Now, damn it! Run!" His tone was command, loaded with sacrifice. He turned and sprinted into the woods opposite them, trying to draw the creature away.

Sofi, Javi, and Vale had no choice. Tears in their eyes, hearts in their throats, they ran—fleeing, unable to stop – the memory of Dani running into the darkness burned into their minds.

The creature, slow but relentless, followed Dani.

It cornered him against an ancient, gnarled tree whose crooked branches clawed at the sky like bony fingers. Dani was trapped, his chest heaving, fear locking his limbs. The creature raised one of its long, clawed hands—just like it had done when it erased Kevin from Sofi's memory.

Dani shut his eyes tightly, bracing for the cold, consuming oblivion.

But death didn't come.

Instead, a cascade of warmth poured through him. Light—golden and alive—surrounded his mind.

Dani wasn't in the woods anymore.

He was in a park, under a radiant sun. Birds chirped. Children laughed. The scent of fresh-cut grass and spun sugar filled the air.

He was laughing—real, unguarded laughter—and so was someone else. A child.

A little boy, about five years old, with tousled light brown hair. Dani was carrying him on his shoulders, spinning in circles, the boy's joyful squeals filling the air.

He could feel the boy's small hands tangled in his hair, his light weight against his neck. It felt warm. Safe. Whole.

The memory glowed with golden light—bittersweet and pure. Dani could hear his own voice, distant but familiar.

"Faster, Dani! Faster!"

"Hold on tight, champ! Here comes the plane!" he had replied, swooping the child around, their laughter mingling.

They collapsed onto the grass, breathless, side by side. The boy crawled over to look Dani in the eyes, his own filled with wonder and love.

The boy opened his mouth—he was about to say something. Something important.

Something Dani knew mattered.

But just before the words came out…

The memory ended.

Dani opened his eyes.

The creature was gone—vanished like smoke. There was no trace of it.

The terror that had clutched him moments before was replaced by a strange kind of calm. But it didn't last.

There was something else now.

Figures.

Encircling him.

Dark silhouettes in hooded cloaks.

At least six or seven of them, maybe more—completely silent.

They hadn't made a sound as they arrived. No footsteps. No voices.

Just a quiet presence, surrounding him like a noose.

They didn't move. They didn't speak.

They simply watched.

The hoods hid their faces, but Dani felt their eyes like needles. Cold. Calculating.

Some wore strange amulets—bones, carved wood, smooth stones etched with symbols Dani didn't recognize. The charms pulsed faintly with a sickly light, reacting to something unseen.

Dani took a shaky step back.

His breathing was erratic. His heart pounded in his ears.

The creature had been terrifying.

But these figures…

These were worse.

They weren't monsters.

They were people.

People who knew.

People who had been waiting for him.