Page 9 of Hunted By Them

Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, and he was closer now…or maybe I imagined it. The antlers raked a low branch. He tipped his head as if listening to something only he could hear.

“Open the door,” the voice urged.

It wasn’t loud, or even forceful, yet it carried the heaviness of a command. The storm had chosen me. They had chosen me. Now it was my turn, but the choice had already been made.

They put their cocks away, and I almost yelled, No. Almost. Stepping back into the darkness, they disappeared, and my heart pounded harder.

No, they can’t leave.

Without even thinking about it, I darted to the door. My fingers tightened on the latch.

“Are you crazy, Sage? You can’t go out there,” I scolded myself.

I thought of the city, of my apartment with its mismatched mugs and one plant, but no one there to greet me. I thought of the job where my ideas sounded best coming from someone else’s mouth. I thought of my ex, whose apologies always sounded like requests and accusations. I thought of all the ways I had tried to be small, palatable, and easy to place on a shelf. I hated that version of me.

“Please,” I whispered, but I didn’t know if I was talking to him or to myself. “Don’t leave.”

The wind paused like a held breath for an answer, but there were no more words exhaled. I stayed with my hand on the latch a long time. It felt like the only proof that any of this had happened. The only thing that still had warmth. I released my hold, every finger aching with fatigue.

I picked up the flashlight I’d dropped and sat with my back to the wall, pressing my knees to my chest. My clothes clung to my body. My hair was heavy and wet from the steadily leaking roof. The pad under me was too thin to separate bone from board, but I closed my eyes.

It didn’t help. I still saw antlers, rain, and three men, or part men, who were calling out to me. I hated them for leaving. I hated myself for wanting to follow.

I tried to list rationalities. Men. Masks. Dangerous. Get out at first light. Hike as fast as you can. Don’t look back. None of those words held weight. The only words that did were the ones that had come through the door and pressed down until my breath changed.

Open the door, Sweet Daisy. Open the door.

When I finally fell asleep, it wasn’t deep. The cabin, its smell, and the sound of rain stayed with me. Most of all, the shape of the men standing at the edge of the forest. They belonged to a story I’d never believed until I heard the whispers for myself. The gentle commands disguised as an invitation.

I woke sometime later with my cheek on my knees, heart thumping like a rabbit. The storm had backed off from a roar to a steady hum. The door was closed, but my heart was heavy. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had.

I didn’t touch the latch on the door. There was no need.

SAGE

The storm had limped off by morning, but it hadn’t really gone. It sat just above the cabin, daring me to step outside. I’d spent an hour going through my pack and the room, searching for the small antler. But everything from last night was gone.

Frustration filled me as I munched on a protein bar and chugged some water. I knew I’d seen it, held it, but where the hell did it go?

It was light enough outside to head back to my car. I pushed up off the floor and grabbed my pack. The wind picked up, causing me to shiver as it whispered through the pines. A thick mist seemed to cling to everything. When I shoved the cabin door open, the hinges squealed like they hated me and wanted to give my position away.

“Shh,” I said, giving the door shit, like it actually cared.

I quickly glanced around for any sign of the men and the insanity that had gone on last night, but there was no one there. Birds and bugs made their usual noises, and I could hear frogs off in the distance declaring they were happy about the rain last night.

I stepped out to the edge of the rickety porch, half expecting that skull face to come running at me and tackle me to the ground. I licked my lips. My pack was slung over one shoulder, and I slowly put it on the other as I stepped down the stairs. One. Two. Three. The clearing looked perfectly normal. Ordinary even. Too damn ordinary.

The fire ring was nothing but a shallow pool of rainwater. Confident that no one was charging out of the woods, I walked to the treeline where I’d seen the three of them together.

My mind immediately conjured my masked men, bodies shining in the rain, and their hands stroking themselves. I cleared my throat and shook my head to rid it of the potent and visceral image that made my body hot all over.

The overgrown grass was still flattened down from the rain, but that didn’t stop me from searching for footprints that didn’t exist. There were no broken branches. No antlers left like another offering.

No proof. The storm had erased it all, wiping the slate bare, and it pissed me off. I didn’t imagine it.

Did I?

I laughed once, the sound hollow. Losing my mind would certainly complete the trifecta of crap.