Jake

A kind of slow, labored breathing. Guttural, low, like someone exhaling through a cavern. Then silence. At 11.04, Molly screamed. I ran to her tent, heart in my throat. She was sitting upright, drenched in sweat, eyes wide. They were inside, she whispered, watching me. I wasn't dreaming, Jake. I saw them. Not faces, just eyes. Silver eyes. So many. We didn't sleep.

A kind of slow, labored breathing. Guttural, low, like someone exhaling through a cavern. Then silence. At 11.04, Molly screamed. I ran to her tent, heart in my throat. She was sitting upright, drenched in sweat, eyes wide. They were inside, she whispered, watching me. I wasn't dreaming, Jake. I saw them. Not faces, just eyes. Silver eyes. So many. We didn't sleep.

At some point, Jess threw up behind a log. Aaron sat up with the drone tablet in his lap, scanning thermal feeds, muttering, Something moved. I swear it moved. At 3.27 AM, the first rock hit. It smashed into our solar panel with a sharp crack. Everyone jumped. I unzipped my tent and scanned the darkness with my headlamp. Nothing. Then another rock landed near Jess's tent.

At some point, Jess threw up behind a log. Aaron sat up with the drone tablet in his lap, scanning thermal feeds, muttering, Something moved. I swear it moved. At 3.27 AM, the first rock hit. It smashed into our solar panel with a sharp crack. Everyone jumped. I unzipped my tent and scanned the darkness with my headlamp. Nothing. Then another rock landed near Jess's tent.

Then another, and another. The pattern wasn't random. Three, pause, four, pause, three again. Aaron activated the drone, and for a split second, we saw something. Tall, upright, just at the edge of the tree line, then static. The drone dropped like a stone, like it had been swatted out of the sky. Dawn couldn't come fast enough. When the sun finally rose, the woods looked unchanged.

Then another, and another. The pattern wasn't random. Three, pause, four, pause, three again. Aaron activated the drone, and for a split second, we saw something. Tall, upright, just at the edge of the tree line, then static. The drone dropped like a stone, like it had been swatted out of the sky. Dawn couldn't come fast enough. When the sun finally rose, the woods looked unchanged.

But the feeling, that pressure in the air, it hadn't left. Jess stepped out of her tent and screamed. At the foot of her sleeping bag was a single stone, small and smooth, with three tiny claw marks etched into its side. And that was the last time any of us felt safe. By the time the sun came up, none of us really believed we were in control anymore. We packed fast, barely speaking.

But the feeling, that pressure in the air, it hadn't left. Jess stepped out of her tent and screamed. At the foot of her sleeping bag was a single stone, small and smooth, with three tiny claw marks etched into its side. And that was the last time any of us felt safe. By the time the sun came up, none of us really believed we were in control anymore. We packed fast, barely speaking.

Aaron had that wired, half-manic look he gets when something rattles him, eyes darting, jaw clenched like he was chewing on glass. Jess wouldn't go near the stone that was left beside her tent. She just stood there shaking, arms crossed, whispering over and over. That wasn't here last night. It wasn't. Molly looked like she hadn't slept at all.

Aaron had that wired, half-manic look he gets when something rattles him, eyes darting, jaw clenched like he was chewing on glass. Jess wouldn't go near the stone that was left beside her tent. She just stood there shaking, arms crossed, whispering over and over. That wasn't here last night. It wasn't. Molly looked like she hadn't slept at all.

Her eyes were bloodshot, and she kept flinching whenever a twig snapped. She'd barely touched her breakfast. None of us had. We were ready to leave. But the trail was gone. I don't mean we missed a turn or wandered a few hundred feet off path. I mean it wasn't there anymore. The switchback we'd taken down to the ridge. The dead tree with the hollow trunk we passed on the way in. Gone.

Her eyes were bloodshot, and she kept flinching whenever a twig snapped. She'd barely touched her breakfast. None of us had. We were ready to leave. But the trail was gone. I don't mean we missed a turn or wandered a few hundred feet off path. I mean it wasn't there anymore. The switchback we'd taken down to the ridge. The dead tree with the hollow trunk we passed on the way in. Gone.

Not just moved. Erased. Everything looked the same in every direction. Perfect symmetry. Pines spaced just far enough apart to keep you second-guessing. Same moss. Same lichen. No footprints. No trash. No sign we'd ever arrived. At first I thought I'd made a GPS error. Maybe the fire pit had just disoriented us. But Aaron's topo map glitched too, coordinates shifting in real time.

Not just moved. Erased. Everything looked the same in every direction. Perfect symmetry. Pines spaced just far enough apart to keep you second-guessing. Same moss. Same lichen. No footprints. No trash. No sign we'd ever arrived. At first I thought I'd made a GPS error. Maybe the fire pit had just disoriented us. But Aaron's topo map glitched too, coordinates shifting in real time.

He pulled up the last drone footage and started swiping through the thermal captures. That's when he stopped talking. "'What is that?' he asked, pointing to a blurry corner frame. We all leaned in. On the edge of the thermal display was a silhouette. Tall. Upright. Longer limbs than a person should have. Its heat signature barely registered. Just cold enough to be real.

He pulled up the last drone footage and started swiping through the thermal captures. That's when he stopped talking. "'What is that?' he asked, pointing to a blurry corner frame. We all leaned in. On the edge of the thermal display was a silhouette. Tall. Upright. Longer limbs than a person should have. Its heat signature barely registered. Just cold enough to be real.

Just warm enough to not be dead. It was standing still. Too still. We watched in silence as Aaron cycled through the footage. The shape was in frame in three different clips, always from a new angle. It had been circling us. We should have left everything and bolted right then. But we didn't. Because something bigger than fear kept us there. It wasn't curiosity anymore.

Just warm enough to not be dead. It was standing still. Too still. We watched in silence as Aaron cycled through the footage. The shape was in frame in three different clips, always from a new angle. It had been circling us. We should have left everything and bolted right then. But we didn't. Because something bigger than fear kept us there. It wasn't curiosity anymore.

It was this pull, like the woods were reeling us in. We tried moving west, hoping to reconnect with a logging road or a ranger marker. But after 30 minutes of hiking, we found ourselves back at the ridge. Back at camp. Only now, it was different. The fire pit was gone, covered in a thick, unnatural carpet of moss that hadn't been there five minutes earlier. Our footprints were gone too.

It was this pull, like the woods were reeling us in. We tried moving west, hoping to reconnect with a logging road or a ranger marker. But after 30 minutes of hiking, we found ourselves back at the ridge. Back at camp. Only now, it was different. The fire pit was gone, covered in a thick, unnatural carpet of moss that hadn't been there five minutes earlier. Our footprints were gone too.