Samantha (Corrections Officer)

solitude can play tricks on people's minds the stillness of the forest the lack of traffic the abandoned glass maybe it was nothing more than unfortunate coincidences that's when more unsettling details came into focus i saw other animal remains small creatures like birds and rodents splayed out in ways that made my stomach tighten

solitude can play tricks on people's minds the stillness of the forest the lack of traffic the abandoned glass maybe it was nothing more than unfortunate coincidences that's when more unsettling details came into focus i saw other animal remains small creatures like birds and rodents splayed out in ways that made my stomach tighten

Granted, wildlife perishes out here naturally, but never quite so frequently along a single, seldom-used road. The deeper I went, the heavier everything seemed. Each stretch of the journey felt like crossing into terrain that wasn't meant for casual visitors. Yuri stirred in the back seat, panting quietly, ears pinned forward as if expecting something.

Granted, wildlife perishes out here naturally, but never quite so frequently along a single, seldom-used road. The deeper I went, the heavier everything seemed. Each stretch of the journey felt like crossing into terrain that wasn't meant for casual visitors. Yuri stirred in the back seat, panting quietly, ears pinned forward as if expecting something.

I glanced at her, then forced myself to keep my eyes on the narrow track. The scenery whirled by. Tall trunks, dense canopies of green, patches of sunlight fighting through the leaves. But the silence was the most oppressive aspect of all. No birds, no rustling underbrush, just the scraping sound of my tires and my own uneasy breathing.

I glanced at her, then forced myself to keep my eyes on the narrow track. The scenery whirled by. Tall trunks, dense canopies of green, patches of sunlight fighting through the leaves. But the silence was the most oppressive aspect of all. No birds, no rustling underbrush, just the scraping sound of my tires and my own uneasy breathing.

I couldn't help remembering other trips I'd taken by myself, times I'd welcomed the hush and the isolation. Why was this different? I tried to rationalize. Maybe the area got hit by drought. Maybe some sickness had spread among the small animals. But that same creeping tension wouldn't let go. A wave of relief washed over me when I spotted a pullout wide enough to stop again.

I couldn't help remembering other trips I'd taken by myself, times I'd welcomed the hush and the isolation. Why was this different? I tried to rationalize. Maybe the area got hit by drought. Maybe some sickness had spread among the small animals. But that same creeping tension wouldn't let go. A wave of relief washed over me when I spotted a pullout wide enough to stop again.

I needed a moment to gather myself. This time, I didn't even bother getting out of the car. I just sat with the engine off, the silence wrapping around me. That was when I heard faint murmurs. Distinctly male voices, though I couldn't tell if it was one person or more. They weren't shouting. The tone sounded conversational. but I couldn't make out any real words.

I needed a moment to gather myself. This time, I didn't even bother getting out of the car. I just sat with the engine off, the silence wrapping around me. That was when I heard faint murmurs. Distinctly male voices, though I couldn't tell if it was one person or more. They weren't shouting. The tone sounded conversational. but I couldn't make out any real words.

My heart started to pound so fiercely, it felt like it might echo in the confined space of the car. Yuri perked up, ears drawn tall. A twinge of alarm raced through me. I hesitated, debating whether to answer with a quick shout or maybe honk the horn. But something, some internal alarm, made me stay quiet. Instead, I peered out the window, scanning for any glimpse of movement through the trees.

My heart started to pound so fiercely, it felt like it might echo in the confined space of the car. Yuri perked up, ears drawn tall. A twinge of alarm raced through me. I hesitated, debating whether to answer with a quick shout or maybe honk the horn. But something, some internal alarm, made me stay quiet. Instead, I peered out the window, scanning for any glimpse of movement through the trees.

Nothing. The voices faded as soon as they'd arrived, replaced by that grating stillness again. I sat there, torn between forging ahead and turning back. The plan had been to find a clearing to set up camp. I loved the idea of being alone in nature, getting away from the stress of daily routines. Yet my gut kept urging me to rethink everything. In that moment, stubbornness won out.

Nothing. The voices faded as soon as they'd arrived, replaced by that grating stillness again. I sat there, torn between forging ahead and turning back. The plan had been to find a clearing to set up camp. I loved the idea of being alone in nature, getting away from the stress of daily routines. Yet my gut kept urging me to rethink everything. In that moment, stubbornness won out.

I started up the engine, telling myself I just needed to push on a bit further. Maybe the ideal campsite was just around the bend. As I drove, the murmur of voices popped up again, then vanished, like a distant radio station flickering in and out of range. My pulse throbbed at every twist in the road, half expecting to see someone or something. But every turnout I passed was vacant.

I started up the engine, telling myself I just needed to push on a bit further. Maybe the ideal campsite was just around the bend. As I drove, the murmur of voices popped up again, then vanished, like a distant radio station flickering in and out of range. My pulse throbbed at every twist in the road, half expecting to see someone or something. But every turnout I passed was vacant.

No tents, no cars, not even a stray piece of trash. Finally, I paused on a narrow stretch of gravel, overlooking the steep slope below. The setting sun pressed in on me, throwing long shadows across the dusty path. I needed a decision. Either commit to staying the night, or get off this mountain while I still had enough light.

No tents, no cars, not even a stray piece of trash. Finally, I paused on a narrow stretch of gravel, overlooking the steep slope below. The setting sun pressed in on me, throwing long shadows across the dusty path. I needed a decision. Either commit to staying the night, or get off this mountain while I still had enough light.

My hand clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles gone white with tension. Movement in the tree line caught my eye, just a flicker, a shape I couldn't fully make out. It disappeared quickly, leaving me with a rush of dread that turned my stomach. Yuri let out a short, sharp bark, which made me jump. That sealed my choice. Enough was enough.

My hand clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles gone white with tension. Movement in the tree line caught my eye, just a flicker, a shape I couldn't fully make out. It disappeared quickly, leaving me with a rush of dread that turned my stomach. Yuri let out a short, sharp bark, which made me jump. That sealed my choice. Enough was enough.