Alone: A Story of Horror

The truck broke down at around 1:30 in the morning. The road was gravel with nothing but dark woods on either side and in all directions. His breathing, which could be seen in the cold winter air, was still erratic from the night's events. His hands were shaking and no matter how hard he tried to relax, he could not stop trembling. He knew his whole body and mind were still in shock. He walked a little down the road, not knowing what direction he was going, but he went as far as the high beams from the truck would let him. He looked up at the full moon, but passing clouds kept it from offering any help. His phone was smashed during the night's events but going back to the truck was not an option.

He stared down the road, squinting his eyes, as if that would help. He turned around, looked past the truck down the other end of the road. He then felt something cold on his face and when he touched it, he almost couldn’t believe how red it was. Once he consciously noticed the blood, that was when he the sharp pain in his side became noticeable. He knew it was the adrenaline rush of the night’s events was why he was not feeling the injuries. He decided to walk towards the other end of the road, from where he came. He could not remember turning onto the road or what brought him to this area. Aside from the winter breeze, which was too substantial for his jeans and light jacket and already causing his face to feel raw, there were no sounds besides the noise from his hiking boots on the gravel road. Even though he wanted to get past the truck as quickly as possible, he stepped onto the other side of the road, taking not one glance toward the dark gray Ford and kept his head down as he walked. He was even scared to look forward because the darkness was unnerving.

Suddenly, he looked up and a dark figure ran across the road, from the forest on the other side of the road to the forest he was walking along. He stopped in his tracks, paralyzed, breathing getting heavier once again. It moved so fast, he couldn’t tell if it was an animal or something else. His attention was miles from the truck at this point. He had no idea how long he just stood there, but the wheezing he heard next to him just past the tree line changed his perspective. He tried with all his might to take a step, but the attempt was almost too painful. At the moment when the clouds allowed some moonlight to shine, there was a breath cloud coming from the darkness of the forest that did not belong to him. There was more wheezing which finally gave him the push to rush back to the area of the road lit up by the headlights of the truck.

For a short time, those headlights felt like a cone of safety. It was almost like when kids believe the monsters under their bed will not get them if their feet are safely under the blanket. He stood there, in his safety bubble, breathing heavily once again but not moving an inch. He figured these shadows and sounds had to be woodland creatures, which did not comfort him too much because he knew there were some bad to the bone critters in the woods.

It was the growling, coming from the forest on the truck’s side of the road, that confirmed he was probably dealing with a wolf. The growling grew closer and closer, but he could not see any actual animals. Then, something tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around and no one. A touch on his other shoulder, he quickly turned around and no one. The touching had seized but he still turned every which way to make sure he was alone. The air was growing colder which was cutting through him like a set of kitchen knives. His heart rate escalated as the head lights started to flicker. He tried to yell for help, but only mild stuttering came from his lips. Even the blood trickling down his head felt like it was starting to freeze.

The lights from the truck started to dim even more when the whispering started from the trees. He had never hyperventilated in his life and had not even shed a tear since his mom died two years before but, on this night, he felt the need to do both. It was at that moment; the head lights shut off.

He just stood there and besides the winter wind, the silence was deafening. The clouds were covering the moon at this point and darkness covered the land. He stood there, motionless, alone, wishing he could be in the truck. His breathing slowed only because he wanted to be as still as possible. The clouds were moving fast, and slivers of moonlight slipped through enough to see the vast grove of trees on each side of the road he stood frozen on. Then, a tree fell in the distance on one side of the road which caused him to turn so quickly, he fell onto the gravel. The rocks were hard, some with points on their tops, but he bit his lip clean through so he would not scream. He crawled backwards, still looking in all directions.

Terror was all he felt when, as he was shifting backwards, he hit something, something plush, but muscular. It was pressed upon the center of his back. His hands were scraping along the sharp rocks of the road. A warm cloud of breath traveled into his ear canal. He opened his mouth again to scream, but nothing, as if he were safely in bed but having a nightmare. Even with the pain still in his stomach from the night’s events, he rose and dashed into the woods.

Small limbs hit him in the face, but he kept running until he finally tripped. He face-planted into a bed of cold, wet pine straw. His first small sigh of relief in, he didn’t know how long, was knowing he did not fall onto a log. He stood up as quick as he could because he wanted to keep moving but the darkness terrified him even more in the woods. When he was slowly stepping through the dark, he was moving just slow enough to not trip or run into a tree. He halted, frozen again when he heard the scream; a blood-curdling scream, in the distance that sounded like that of a child. It stopped and he was once again, terrified, heart beating so hard as if it were going to explode. There were sounds of trees, crackling all around him, limbs breaking. The sounds of the limbs breaking was slow, as if being directed by a conductor. He was touched on the shoulder again, another scream in the distance, so he ran. This time, a tree stopped him and knocked him out cold.

His head was pounding when he woke. His back was cold and wet. He was scared to open his eyes, yet he slowly did. His surroundings were silent besides a light breeze, but then, there was light. He raised up and there stood a cabin, an honest-to-goodness log cabin with one lone candle burning in the window. His breathing once again, became erratic but this time, in anticipation. He stood up on two trembling legs and took a few steps forward to greatest sight he had ever seen. There were branches breaking behind him as he stretched his hand out toward the cabin, still staring at the candle in the window. It was a matter of seconds when he was grabbed, his arm pulled behind his back. He barely felt the cold steel slide into his chest. The tight grip let him go and he fell to the ground. He looked up at the blood-stained face of the woman standing over him, her clothes were ripped and also, soaked in blood. His victim, surprisingly alive from the night’s events, stood over him and smiled.