Samantha (Corrections Officer)

The spot was known for its wide paths and scenic overlooks, often buzzing with joggers and dog walkers. My dog and I had a comfortable routine, walk in, enjoy the sights, and head out before evening rolled in. Yet as we started down the gravel stretch, I noticed something was off. No chatter, no footsteps padding behind us. Even the usual hum of traffic from the nearby road felt muted.

The spot was known for its wide paths and scenic overlooks, often buzzing with joggers and dog walkers. My dog and I had a comfortable routine, walk in, enjoy the sights, and head out before evening rolled in. Yet as we started down the gravel stretch, I noticed something was off. No chatter, no footsteps padding behind us. Even the usual hum of traffic from the nearby road felt muted.

It was the kind of hush that clings to a place when people sense a reason to stay away. I tried to brush aside my unease. Maybe it was just an off hour. Maybe everyone else had better places to be. But my dog's tense posture stopped me from pushing that thought too far. She paused every few yards, straining her nose toward the timberline.

It was the kind of hush that clings to a place when people sense a reason to stay away. I tried to brush aside my unease. Maybe it was just an off hour. Maybe everyone else had better places to be. But my dog's tense posture stopped me from pushing that thought too far. She paused every few yards, straining her nose toward the timberline.

Every leaf crunch under our feet rang loud enough to carry. To calm my nerves, I focused on details. The brilliant yellows and reds in the foliage. The sunlight slanting through half-bare branches. The distant shape of the hills. The area had a certain postcard charm, the kind that draws families on weekends. Except there were no families today.

Every leaf crunch under our feet rang loud enough to carry. To calm my nerves, I focused on details. The brilliant yellows and reds in the foliage. The sunlight slanting through half-bare branches. The distant shape of the hills. The area had a certain postcard charm, the kind that draws families on weekends. Except there were no families today.

No casual hikers, not a single face peering from around the next bend. About halfway in, we reached a wooden footbridge spanning a shallow trickle of water, usually a popular photo spot, empty. My dog whined and snaked her head side to side. A sense of watchfulness ignited in me, recalling the time we'd encountered that camouflaged bowhunter.

No casual hikers, not a single face peering from around the next bend. About halfway in, we reached a wooden footbridge spanning a shallow trickle of water, usually a popular photo spot, empty. My dog whined and snaked her head side to side. A sense of watchfulness ignited in me, recalling the time we'd encountered that camouflaged bowhunter.

This time, however, I doubted it was a legitimate sportsman. Hunting here was banned. I crouched by the railing, trying to see if something down by the stream was causing her alarm. Nothing caught my eye. No sign of movement in the bushes. No leftover trash or footprints along the muddy bank. The silence pressed in, thick and foreboding. Standing again, I scanned the tree line beyond the water.

This time, however, I doubted it was a legitimate sportsman. Hunting here was banned. I crouched by the railing, trying to see if something down by the stream was causing her alarm. Nothing caught my eye. No sign of movement in the bushes. No leftover trash or footprints along the muddy bank. The silence pressed in, thick and foreboding. Standing again, I scanned the tree line beyond the water.

My mind toyed with different explanations. Maybe a wild predator had slipped into these suburban woods. I'd heard rumors of cougars occasionally drifting into places they shouldn't. Most folks wrote those stories off as urban legends. Another possibility, less comforting, was that someone sat hidden among those trees, deliberately tracking me.

My mind toyed with different explanations. Maybe a wild predator had slipped into these suburban woods. I'd heard rumors of cougars occasionally drifting into places they shouldn't. Most folks wrote those stories off as urban legends. Another possibility, less comforting, was that someone sat hidden among those trees, deliberately tracking me.

i'd known people who thought scoping out unsuspecting hikers was a thrill a faint breeze stirred the branches overhead carrying a stale scent reminiscent of damp soil and something else not exactly decay but not the crisp autumn smell i expected my dog bristled and a subtle whine escaped her throat

i'd known people who thought scoping out unsuspecting hikers was a thrill a faint breeze stirred the branches overhead carrying a stale scent reminiscent of damp soil and something else not exactly decay but not the crisp autumn smell i expected my dog bristled and a subtle whine escaped her throat

i tried to steady myself with logic it could be an animal carcass nearby or a small scattering of leaves left to rot yet the tension in my gut wouldn't let me chalk it up to something benign i kept an eye on the undergrowth searching for a glint of metal or the flash of glass that might indicate binoculars i saw nothing

i tried to steady myself with logic it could be an animal carcass nearby or a small scattering of leaves left to rot yet the tension in my gut wouldn't let me chalk it up to something benign i kept an eye on the undergrowth searching for a glint of metal or the flash of glass that might indicate binoculars i saw nothing

still the feeling of being evaluated by an unseen presence persisted pressing on felt necessary even if every step tightened the knot in my stomach the next bend led to a narrow corridor of trees their branches arching overhead to form a tunnel of sorts light filtered through casting elongated shadows on the path My dog's pace slowed, her tail dropping. She glanced back at me, almost pleading.

still the feeling of being evaluated by an unseen presence persisted pressing on felt necessary even if every step tightened the knot in my stomach the next bend led to a narrow corridor of trees their branches arching overhead to form a tunnel of sorts light filtered through casting elongated shadows on the path My dog's pace slowed, her tail dropping. She glanced back at me, almost pleading.

A branch snapped off to my left. I froze, ears straining, another crack, like someone trying to creep unnoticed through underbrush but missing a step.

A branch snapped off to my left. I froze, ears straining, another crack, like someone trying to creep unnoticed through underbrush but missing a step.