Chapter 2
June 29, 2026 at 3:00 PM
The night sky emitted its dark shroud and the winds outside pierced through my pajamas. The moon was bright, but not enough for the dense foliage that blocked its efforts.
But I didn’t care and pushed through deep into the woods. It was impossible to stop the shivering and my bones were starting to ache.
Still didn’t care.
The woods stood a few dozen feet from our house, and I usually came here to clear my head. I thought I heard a door shut in the distance, but it could have really been anything. If Ava decided to follow, that’s her choice, not mine.
The air slashed at my face, making me numb and sniffly. My eyes were teary as they fought past the winds, forcing me to blink and wipe them away. My chest burned with every breath in.
I hated it. And was I getting lost?
Navigating was difficult when the inky blackness made every piece of my surroundings look identical. I stumbled around until I found a familiar tree.
I took a minute to catch my breath; I leaned up against the tree and looked around. The moon’s stunted attempt at lighting up the forest made everything look unfamiliar.
No way I got lost, right?
I wanted to make sure so I felt around until I found a large rock jutting out of the ground and felt the rough outline of some initials. An E and two A’s.
She’d know where to find me. Is that what I wanted?
I didn’t know. Especially after how hard she laughed. She wondered about “vestiges,” too. It wasn’t just me. My ears twitched. Leaves got crushed behind me. My legs acted on their own and kept going. This was the right call. Had to be.
The winds calmed down, but my face was still numb and my nose ran as fast as I did. A gradual thumping followed me with each step. Loose leaves from the trees above jerked and drifted down towards the earth below.
Was that Ava?
She was catching up. Fast. Not too surprising, but still.
My heart beat and my ears felt each pulse radiating through my head. An unnatural pressure trying to break free from something. My body met the cold halfway and I felt a cold sweat blanket me. Beads ran down my back and I felt a glacial shiver crawl down my spine.
Had to be Ava. I repeated the phrase until it lost meaning.
But then.
Why did I feel like I was being shadowed?
“Ava?” I said aloud, confidence leaving a long time ago.
No answer.
Maybe she didn’t hear me. I tried to steady my voice this time, but it came out harsher than I meant. “Ava!”
Nothing.
My palms were wet, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on edge. Something wasn’t right. The thudding behind me stopped, the trees with them.
This felt like a warning. I dove behind some tall shrubs and hid. Its splay of branches gave me some camouflage against whatever lurked in the teal hues. I scouted around, straining my eyes to see past the dark. Shapes danced and shadowy figures looked to be stalking towards me.
But it was just the trees.
Then I heard it. My name.
Evan!
From where? My head darted back and forth. I couldn’t spot her anywhere. Had to get out of my hiding spot. The moon caused shadows to dance and encroach around me. I needed to breathe.
She didn’t sound okay. My bones anchored. Each step almost hurt. But I had to keep going.
“Ava, where are you?”
Evan, is that you?
“Yeah, where are you?”
Please, hurry.
Her voice. Fear caked with urgency. It was never like that. What happened to her?
I sprinted. Had to get to her. Except I had no idea where her voice came from. I slowed down. Her voice echoed like it was a distant memory. Fuzzy. Just out of reach. Maybe it was the wind and trees mixing me up.
The cold air nipped at me and my ears and nose ached. I walked, my feet crunching and scraping past leaves. Slowly, shadows calmed down, making things a little easier to move through. Ava didn’t talk again. I felt like a lost child looking for his mom at the mall. But no one came to help me find her.
“Ava,” I called out again.
Evan? I think you’re close.
My eyes widened and my breath caught. She was around here. Somewhere. I inched forward, but the shadows swayed. Something moved in my periphery. An outline.
Was it human?
Whatever it was, it stood still. Watching. Observing.
“Can you hear me?” I asked, in a hushed tone.
No answer.
Behind me I heard a thump, like someone kicked off a tree but never landed. I took a few steps back before turning away from the figure, bumping into a tree; its jagged surface catching on my pajamas and nearly grabbing my skin with them. I pushed myself away, and followed it’s encompassing and steadfast trunk up with my eyes.
I screamed, my brain racked. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Ava hung from a tree; the moon lit her up as though I was at a play and she was the lead actress. Panicked hands clawed at her throat and she gurgled as she tried to find any means to a breath.
“H-help,” she croaked.
My body went stiff. Like it was made up of ice and my brain was frozen with it. The way she thrashed, gasping for the smallest bits of air. It seared into my brain, but it thawed it just enough.
I forced myself to spring into action and took to the ground, scrambling my hands around the decaying leaves; a powerfully earthy stench invaded my nostrils and my hands were coated in a slick grime. But I needed something sharp. My hands raked the ground until a sharp pain engulfed my arm. A warm wetness followed.
Thank God. A broken glass bottle that had seen better days.
My hands shook and my legs buckled, but I managed to get to her and climbed up the tree high enough that the rope was within arm’s reach. I snapped some of the bottle off. A fragmented shard that could slice anything.
My hand felt the wrath of the shard and I inhaled sharply, but Ava’s struggling breaths kept me focused. She squirmed around, causing the rope to dodge my miserable efforts to grab ahold of it.
Just hold still.
Finally.
I snatched the rope and sawed. My arm pleaded I stop, but I heard a snap as the rope gave in before I did. Her body hit the ground, and I jumped from the tree. She gasped and, for a moment, kept grabbing at an invisible rope.
No one deserved this.
I held her to me tightly, tears rolled down my face; a salty promise that everything would be okay. I felt her tremble and cry, too. But then she went stiff and tried to break free, pushing me off her.
“Behind you,” her voice was croaky and strained.
Huh? I turned.
My eyes trailed up.
A tall figure loomed over us: featureless but with skin that could rival a shark. It cranked its neck a sharp ninety degrees and I heard an audible crack. Like a snapping tree branch that couldn’t support your weight. Acid burned my throat.
Keep cool, Evan.
Oh, Evan! You saved me.The voice warped into something less familiar. It gradually got more piercing and screechy, like someone took a knife or fork to a plate and never stopped.
I jumped to my feet and held what was left of the bottle up. It wasn’t much, but it’s all I had. My heart didn’t let up, but time almost slowed down.
It wasn’t going to hurt us anymore. I didn’t care what it was.
This is merely a taste of what’s to come. Pain reveals all.
“Who,” my brain staggered, “no. What. Are you?” My voice was a yip.
Let’s save the formalities for next time. Get out.
I took that as mercy and quickly crouched down to help Ava up. She was crying and trembling, but soldiered on as we limped as fast as we could.
I can’t wait for our next meeting.The figure retreated into some tall shrubs, its voice was distant and fuzzy, yet rang clear.
Nightmare fuel.
But we made it without anything else going wrong.
When we got back, Mom and Dad shared a scowl until we were under the porch light, where they did a 180 and their faces dropped. Mom called the cops, berating us with questions; Dad checked our wounds and ran to get some peroxide. I struggled to keep Ava and me standing, but answered their questions as best I could. I blinked and when I opened my eyes, Dad had me by the shoulders, asking if I was okay.
“An ambulance is on the way,” Mom stated.
We nodded. I blinked again. This time, the heaviness set in and dragged me with it.
✦✦✦
It was hard to open my eyes with the sun beaming down on my face. Or was that a light? I winced against the bright fluorescents, and it took me awhile to regain full consciousness. I scrunched my face at the smell: antiseptics, bleach, and latex all wrapped up into one. It felt like someone tried to scrub away grief and misery and failed all the same. Once my eyes adjusted to the brightness in the room, I looked around. I noticed my hands were bandaged up, but they ached, and I couldn’t move my fingers much against the restricting bandages. My memories from last night were foggy at best. I focused and tried to remember what happened and got glimpses of the forest, an abnormally tall figure, and Ava’s terrified expression. I started hyperventilating. My vision blurred and I felt lightheaded. No. I couldn’t think about that right now. Instead, I looked around the room some more and noticed a second hospital bed, and Ava was lying in it, still unconscious. I sat up and tried to get her attention and wake her up. Her breathing was ragged and it didn’t sound like her. I bit my tongue to keep the tears from spilling. Man. “Ava,” I whispered loudly, but she wasn’t responding. “Hey, Ava.” Nothing. This wasn’t working. What was wrong with me, then? Thankfully nothing seemed out of sorts. I took a closer look at my arms and all the memories flooded back into my mind. The room spun and I swallowed hard to fight a nausea that desperately wanted an exit. Before I could make my move, the door opened up and a doctor walked in with a clipboard, writing something down. Our parents followed her in; their bodies shrunk into themselves. Mom fidgeted with her wedding ring, Dad repeatedly clicked his watch. They perked up when they saw me up, but the doctor continued to scribble down some notes and mumbled something. I didn’t catch it. “Evan!” Mom and Dad said together. “Give him space,” the doctor said, her voice commanding respect. She was clearly done with people not listening. “I’m fine,” I said. Was I really? I felt fine, minus the uneasiness and soreness in my right arm and fingers. “Has Ava moved at all?” Mom asked. “No. Is she going to be okay?” “She’s suffered significant trauma to her throat, and we found some bruising to her body and arms,” the doctor said. “She’ll be okay but may take some time to fully recover. You, Evan, will need some antibiotics. That was a nasty and deep cut on your hand and forearm. We also recommend you both go see a psychiatrist. I’ll give you the information of a colleague of mine.” “Thank you, Dr. Hernandez,” Dad said as he went over to check on Ava. “Unfortunately, these wounds are all consistent with self-harm. We are still too early to tell and we’ll need proper psychological analysis.” Dr. Hernandez cleared her throat and pursed her lips together. I raised an eyebrow and opened my mouth to object. Is this what they’re going with? A suicide attempt? No. No way. Never Ava. But before I could say anything, I heard sobbing. “Oh. Oh God,” Mom sobbed while Dad hugged her close; tears welled up in his eyes and he shut them while looking up and taking in a deep breath. Not Mom and Dad. Please. I tried to comfort them. “Mom, Dad, I know what I saw out there. It wasn’t a suicide attempt. I don’t know what Ava’s feeling, but it couldn’t have been anything like that.” “Then what happened?” Mom managed in between her sobs. What was worse? To tell them the truth or let them believe Ava had tried to commit suicide? I guess none of that mattered. I needed them to see Ava wasn’t like that. And so, I caught them up. Dr. Hernandez had left sometime before I started my story. My parents stared at me with wide eyes and mouths agape. After saying it aloud, my ears went red hot and I felt butterflies in my stomach. As if this was all some freak show story that I made up to hide the “truth” from them. I wasn’t lying. I needed them to tell me they saw that. Mom and Dad were speechless; their eyes searched me. I felt exposed. Vulnerable. Naked. The silence held strong, and I had to muster courage to break it down. “I know, it’s hard to take in, but trust me, I wish it was fake.” Right as the last word left my mouth, Dad broke down, saying something like “this is all my fault,” and, “I should’ve just left them alone.” Mom tried to comfort him, and I looked away. Dad has lost his cool before and it was always those moments when I knew we messed up. I couldn’t face them, so I shifted focus to Ava. Poor Ava. I intentionally left out the part where the creature told me that this was only a taste.That seemed like it’d break their hearts beyond repair. Thinking of those words sent shivers crawling down my spine. Maybe a psychiatrist was a good idea. For both of us. I stared at the ceiling. The random, scattered dots made no sense. The slight yellowing stains on the panels made my stomach turn. What were we doing here? Why us? Dad calmed down and Mom looked me in the eyes. She seemed really tense, almost as if she would regret telling me what’s on her mind. “Evan. The cops didn’t find any evidence of there being someone else at the scene.” The pain in her voice was unbearable. This wasn’t easy for her to say. But it wasn’t easy to hear, either. “Honey, Evan wouldn’t lie to us. You know that,” Dad said, trying to ease Mom’s reluctance. Thanks, Dad. But I couldn’t believe my own mom was doubting me. My brain scrambled to make up counterarguments, but my voice cracked and it was getting hard to hold back the tears. “Sweetheart, I want to believe you, but the police found nothing. And this wouldn’t be the first time someone’s hung themselves out in those woods.” I winced. Mom. No. She held my hand, but I didn’t want her comfort if she wasn’t going to believe me. “No, Mom, you’re wrong. We were attacked, and that’s the truth.” Dad intercepted and grabbed Mom by the shoulders. “Honey, let’s leave them alone for now. Arguing isn’t helping, and if this creature really did attack them, it obviously doesn’t conform to our laws of physics.” He helped her up and she left without arguing, though her steps were slow and hesitant. I huffed out a breath and sat in the silence. This was stupid. Ava’s breathing reminded me I wasn’t alone. Someone else was there, and she knows what we saw was real. I glanced over to her bed and then my frustration was replaced by an ever-growing dread and the waterworks rushed free. Why didn’t I do a better job at protecting her? Why did I storm out? Why? Hundreds of different ways tonight could have gone played out in my mind. I tried to stay calm, but the tears were relentless. My nose ran, and my throat felt like it wanted to strangle me itself. I reached over and grabbed a tissue, doing my best to blow my nose. The guilt was starting to consume me. I failed as a brother. Before my thoughts could consume me any longer, Ava took a struggling breath in and coughed. I turned my head to face her. Thank God. “Hey now, don’t cry.” Her words were strained, aching with pain. But she was smiling weakly, eyes slowly fluttering as she tried to stay awake. All I could manage was a whispered, “Ava.” “It hurts to talk.” I nodded. It’s obvious that she needed time to rest. I also needed time to rest. I yawned and lay my head on my pillow. The lights gave a slight buzz. The A/C kicked on. And for once, since the nightmare, I felt at ease.
