Samantha (Corrections Officer)

That's when I saw movement at the edge of my vision, just a quick twitch of something in the shadows. My pulse hammered as I wove around a thick bush, trying to reach the road. Suddenly, a figure blocked my path. A man, mid-forties maybe, crouched low and moving with deliberate steps. His arms were out like he was about to grab something, and for a heartbeat, I thought that target was me.

That's when I saw movement at the edge of my vision, just a quick twitch of something in the shadows. My pulse hammered as I wove around a thick bush, trying to reach the road. Suddenly, a figure blocked my path. A man, mid-forties maybe, crouched low and moving with deliberate steps. His arms were out like he was about to grab something, and for a heartbeat, I thought that target was me.

I yelled, practically launching the apples in his direction. He jumped like he'd been shocked and stumbled backward with a sharp gasp. We both stood there, breathing hard, our eyes locked in mutual alarm. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he blurted out, I... I thought you were a deer. His voice cracked in a shaky apology, and he retreated a few steps onto the asphalt.

I yelled, practically launching the apples in his direction. He jumped like he'd been shocked and stumbled backward with a sharp gasp. We both stood there, breathing hard, our eyes locked in mutual alarm. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he blurted out, I... I thought you were a deer. His voice cracked in a shaky apology, and he retreated a few steps onto the asphalt.

Stunned relief washed over me. My mind replayed every horror story I'd ever read, and I realized how badly this could have gone. He kept apologizing. saying he'd been tracking deer and never expected a person to appear out of nowhere. I was torn between wanting to chew him out for creeping around and just being overwhelmed that he wasn't out to hurt me.

Stunned relief washed over me. My mind replayed every horror story I'd ever read, and I realized how badly this could have gone. He kept apologizing. saying he'd been tracking deer and never expected a person to appear out of nowhere. I was torn between wanting to chew him out for creeping around and just being overwhelmed that he wasn't out to hurt me.

We stood like that for a moment under the fading light, neither one sure what to say next. In the distance, the orchard rustled as if the land was eavesdropping on our jittery exchange. Finally, he mumbled one last apology and started walking away, leaving me alone in that patch of dying daylight. My legs shook as I made my way to the road.

We stood like that for a moment under the fading light, neither one sure what to say next. In the distance, the orchard rustled as if the land was eavesdropping on our jittery exchange. Finally, he mumbled one last apology and started walking away, leaving me alone in that patch of dying daylight. My legs shook as I made my way to the road.

I still had an apple clutched in my hand, didn't even remember I was holding it. Even after getting home, the whole thing stuck in my head. Maybe he really was harmless, just some clueless soul hoping to spot wildlife. Yet there was something in his posture that ignited a deep sense of unease. Regardless, I promised myself one thing, no more late visits to that orchard.

I still had an apple clutched in my hand, didn't even remember I was holding it. Even after getting home, the whole thing stuck in my head. Maybe he really was harmless, just some clueless soul hoping to spot wildlife. Yet there was something in his posture that ignited a deep sense of unease. Regardless, I promised myself one thing, no more late visits to that orchard.

The cost of free apples wasn't worth the jolt of panic still coursing through my veins. I could practically recite the route from memory an hour and a half on winding roads, peppered with narrow turns through thick forest. My friends and I had driven this way countless times, always with the same giddy excitement for climbing.

The cost of free apples wasn't worth the jolt of panic still coursing through my veins. I could practically recite the route from memory an hour and a half on winding roads, peppered with narrow turns through thick forest. My friends and I had driven this way countless times, always with the same giddy excitement for climbing.

I remember glancing in the rear view and seeing my friend's jeep trailing close behind, headlights cutting through the early evening dimness. Even though the drive was familiar, I felt a nagging buzz in the pit of my stomach, kind of like when you know something's off but you can't quite place it. When we finally pulled up to our usual spot, that same clearing by the rocky outcrops,

I remember glancing in the rear view and seeing my friend's jeep trailing close behind, headlights cutting through the early evening dimness. Even though the drive was familiar, I felt a nagging buzz in the pit of my stomach, kind of like when you know something's off but you can't quite place it. When we finally pulled up to our usual spot, that same clearing by the rocky outcrops,

Nostalgia hit me in waves. It was exactly as I remembered. The tree line hugging the open space, the boulders towering in the distance, and the wind carrying that faint scent of damp earth. I hopped out of my car, giving the surroundings a quick once-over. No immediate signs of trouble, just that subtle hush that always settles over the place at dusk.

Nostalgia hit me in waves. It was exactly as I remembered. The tree line hugging the open space, the boulders towering in the distance, and the wind carrying that faint scent of damp earth. I hopped out of my car, giving the surroundings a quick once-over. No immediate signs of trouble, just that subtle hush that always settles over the place at dusk.

We piled out and started unloading tents and gear. Conversations were light at first, everyone joking about their worst climbs or embarrassing spills from previous trips. Deep down, I sensed a tension we were trying hard to ignore. After all, last year, one of my friends had her gear vanish in the middle of the night.

We piled out and started unloading tents and gear. Conversations were light at first, everyone joking about their worst climbs or embarrassing spills from previous trips. Deep down, I sensed a tension we were trying hard to ignore. After all, last year, one of my friends had her gear vanish in the middle of the night.

a few jokes and forced laughs can only do so much to disguise that unease we chose a well-worn spot for the tents like we always did each time we'd arrange them in a semi-circle around an old stone fire pit so we'd all be close to the warmth and to each other some one joked that the missing gear could have been the handiwork of a squirrel hoarding chalk powder but nobody really bought that story.

a few jokes and forced laughs can only do so much to disguise that unease we chose a well-worn spot for the tents like we always did each time we'd arrange them in a semi-circle around an old stone fire pit so we'd all be close to the warmth and to each other some one joked that the missing gear could have been the handiwork of a squirrel hoarding chalk powder but nobody really bought that story.