Samantha (Corrections Officer)

My friend was quieter than usual, lost in thought. We talked in circles, rationalizing possibilities. Maybe someone was lost. Maybe it was a local playing a prank. But why no footprints? Why no trace of a visitor? That question still churned in my head, long after we returned to the cabin and tried to make breakfast.

My friend was quieter than usual, lost in thought. We talked in circles, rationalizing possibilities. Maybe someone was lost. Maybe it was a local playing a prank. But why no footprints? Why no trace of a visitor? That question still churned in my head, long after we returned to the cabin and tried to make breakfast.

Every time I caught sight of that door, I'd recall the sharp knock and the silent night, imagining a silhouette waiting on the other side. I knew one thing for sure, we weren't going to forget that noise any time soon.

Every time I caught sight of that door, I'd recall the sharp knock and the silent night, imagining a silhouette waiting on the other side. I knew one thing for sure, we weren't going to forget that noise any time soon.

I'd been on the road with two close friends for what felt like forever, sleeping under the stars, sharing whatever scraps of food we could scrounge, and roaming through parts of Northern California few people ever bothered to visit. We'd spent nearly three months in pure wilderness, where towering trees and endless dirt trails seemed like home.

I'd been on the road with two close friends for what felt like forever, sleeping under the stars, sharing whatever scraps of food we could scrounge, and roaming through parts of Northern California few people ever bothered to visit. We'd spent nearly three months in pure wilderness, where towering trees and endless dirt trails seemed like home.

But on our final night up north, everything shifted in a way I still can't believe. I remember how tired we were when we stumbled upon this tiny excuse for a town. A battered wooden sign sat at a fork in the road, half hidden by overgrown brush. Past it, there was a lone gas pump, a shabby post office, and a bar glowing with a half-dead neon sign.

But on our final night up north, everything shifted in a way I still can't believe. I remember how tired we were when we stumbled upon this tiny excuse for a town. A battered wooden sign sat at a fork in the road, half hidden by overgrown brush. Past it, there was a lone gas pump, a shabby post office, and a bar glowing with a half-dead neon sign.

Not exactly a warm welcome, but we'd learned to make do. The sun was dipping below the horizon. so we figured we'd camp just outside the main strip if that's what you could call one dusty road and a scattering of ramshackle buildings we turned off onto a rocky patch of ground a mile or two beyond the bar it was quiet like unnervingly quiet no sounds of wildlife No distant roar of highway traffic.

Not exactly a warm welcome, but we'd learned to make do. The sun was dipping below the horizon. so we figured we'd camp just outside the main strip if that's what you could call one dusty road and a scattering of ramshackle buildings we turned off onto a rocky patch of ground a mile or two beyond the bar it was quiet like unnervingly quiet no sounds of wildlife No distant roar of highway traffic.

Nothing. We pitched our tents around a small clearing, whispering stupid jokes to lighten the mood. My buddy tried to start a fire with damp wood, and we ended up with a sputtering flame that cast jittery shadows on the canvas. We cooked noodles in a tiny pot, but despite the food my stomach felt tense. I crawled into my sleeping bag, trying to convince myself the silence was nothing new.

Nothing. We pitched our tents around a small clearing, whispering stupid jokes to lighten the mood. My buddy tried to start a fire with damp wood, and we ended up with a sputtering flame that cast jittery shadows on the canvas. We cooked noodles in a tiny pot, but despite the food my stomach felt tense. I crawled into my sleeping bag, trying to convince myself the silence was nothing new.

After all, we'd had plenty of nights in remote campsites. Yet something about this place got under my skin. Every twig snapping felt amplified, and I kept waiting for my friends to say something about it. They stayed quiet too, which made my mind race even more.

After all, we'd had plenty of nights in remote campsites. Yet something about this place got under my skin. Every twig snapping felt amplified, and I kept waiting for my friends to say something about it. They stayed quiet too, which made my mind race even more.

a ways off angry voices tore through the night at first i thought i was dreaming but the shouting kept going like a bad argument spiraling out of control more than one person was involved sounded like three distinct voices yelling over each other

a ways off angry voices tore through the night at first i thought i was dreaming but the shouting kept going like a bad argument spiraling out of control more than one person was involved sounded like three distinct voices yelling over each other

i nudged my friend in the tent next to mine and he froze another friend poked her head out eyes wide none of us moved an inch i was trying to figure out if it was just some drunks at the bar but the intensity in those shouts suggested something else entirely Suddenly, a single gunshot cut through everything. The echo clung to the air, and the yelling stopped so fast it didn't feel real.

i nudged my friend in the tent next to mine and he froze another friend poked her head out eyes wide none of us moved an inch i was trying to figure out if it was just some drunks at the bar but the intensity in those shouts suggested something else entirely Suddenly, a single gunshot cut through everything. The echo clung to the air, and the yelling stopped so fast it didn't feel real.

My thoughts tangled into a mess of fear and confusion. I lifted the edge of my tent flap, just enough to see my friends doing the exact same thing. Their faces were pale in the weak moonlight. No one wanted to speak. Even whispering felt risky.

My thoughts tangled into a mess of fear and confusion. I lifted the edge of my tent flap, just enough to see my friends doing the exact same thing. Their faces were pale in the weak moonlight. No one wanted to speak. Even whispering felt risky.