He Knows My Name

By the time the sun disappeared behind the trees, I had forgotten what dry socks felt like.

Every step peeled another layer of skin from my heels.

Blood soaked through the fabric hours ago, leaving a trail I prayed the rain would erase.

I couldn't stop.

If I stopped...

He would find me again.

The forest stretched forever, black trunks packed so tightly together they looked like prison bars. Branches clawed at my arms as I stumbled past them, each scratch another reminder that I was still alive.

For now.

My lungs burned.

My knees threatened to fold beneath me.

I dared one glance over my shoulder.

Nothing.

Only darkness.

Only trees.

Only silence.

It was the silence that frightened me most.

Because he was never loud.

Three days earlier...

My little brother Ben had laughed when we passed the weathered sign at the edge of Hollow Creek.

MISSING PERSONS INVESTIGATION CLOSED.

"That's comforting," he'd joked.

Mom rolled her eyes.

Dad kept driving.

We were supposed to spend one weekend fixing up Grandpa's abandoned cabin before selling it.

Just one weekend.

The first night, someone knocked on the front door.

Three soft taps.

Dad opened it.

No one was there.

Only muddy footprints leading into the woods.

The second night...

Ben disappeared.

Dad searched until dawn.

Mom screamed his name until her voice gave out.

Then she found him.

Standing perfectly still outside the bedroom window.

Smiling.

His eyes were wrong.

Too empty.

Too... patient.

Dad rushed outside.

Ben whispered something we couldn't hear.

Dad stopped running.

His shoulders relaxed.

Then he walked into the trees beside Ben.

Neither of them came back.

Mom wanted to leave immediately.

The truck wouldn't start.

The tires had been slashed.

The radio only hissed.

Then...

Three knocks.

Again.

Mom refused to answer.

The knocking continued all night.

Soft.

Patient.

Almost polite.

Morning finally came.

The front porch was covered in footprints.

Not one set.

Hundreds.

All surrounding the house.

None leading away.

Mom died trying to save me.

I still hear it.

The crack of the bedroom window.

The smell of wet earth.

The whisper.

"He remembers your name."

Something pulled her into the darkness before I could reach her hand.

I chased her screams.

I found only blood.

And one sentence scratched into a tree.

DON'T LET HIM SEE YOU CRY.

Now I had been running ever since.

Hours.

Maybe days.

Time didn't mean anything anymore.

Only distance.

Only survival.

My feet slipped on wet leaves.

Pain exploded through my ankle.

I collapsed against a fallen log.

"No..."

I forced myself upright.

"You don't get to stop."

My body disagreed.

Everything hurt.

Every breath scraped my chest raw.

My vision blurred.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten.

I reached into my pocket.

Mom's silver necklace.

Bent.

Covered in dried blood.

I held it against my forehead.

"I'm trying," I whispered.

"I'm trying, Mom."

For one impossible second...

I could almost hear her.

"Keep walking, sweetheart."

The tears came anyway.

I hated myself for them.

Because the tree had warned me.

Don't let him see you cry.

Behind me...

Three soft knocks.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Not on wood.

On another tree.

Close.

Too close.

I froze.

Then another.

Farther to my left.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Then another.

Ahead.

Then behind.

The forest itself had begun knocking.

Guiding me.

Herding me.

I ran.

Branches whipped my face.

Roots grabbed my ankles.

The knocking surrounded me now, echoing from every direction until it became impossible to know where he was.

Then...

Silence.

I stumbled into a clearing.

An old playground.

Rusted swings creaked without wind.

A merry-go-round turned slowly by itself.

And sitting on one of the swings...

...was Ben.

He looked exactly twelve again.

Clean clothes.

Messy blond hair.

Freckles.

Except his smile never reached his eyes.

"You shouldn't have left me."

My heart shattered.

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I looked for you."

"You ran."

His voice wasn't his anymore.

It layered over itself.

Child.

Old man.

Woman.

Hundreds of voices speaking together.

"I couldn't save you."

"You never could."

I took one step toward him.

"I miss you."

For the first time...

His smile faltered.

The thing inside him seemed to struggle against something.

Against him.

Against my brother.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

His real voice escaped for only a heartbeat.

"...Run."

I didn't move.

"Ben..."

He screamed.

Not in anger.

In agony.

His body jerked violently as if invisible hands were tearing him apart from the inside.

"PLEASE!"

His face twisted back into that impossible smile.

"Too late."

Something unfolded behind him.

At first I thought it was another tree.

Then it stood.

Far too tall.

Its arms hung almost to the ground.

Its face had no features.

Only smooth pale skin stretched tight over a skull-shaped head.

Until...

A mouth slowly opened where no mouth had been.

Inside...

Thousands of human teeth.

All different.

All stolen.

It leaned toward me.

And spoke with my mother's voice.

"You stopped."

Cold hands wrapped around my shoulders.

I couldn't breathe.

Ben lunged from the swing.

"No!"

He slammed into the creature.

For one impossible second, the monster staggered.

Ben looked back at me.

His eyes were his again.

"I love you."

Then he smiled.

A real smile.

The one he wore every Christmas morning.

The creature's arms closed around him instead.

There was no scream.

Only silence.

Then...

Nothing remained of my brother except the silver friendship bracelet I'd tied around his wrist years ago.

It landed at my feet.

I wanted to die.

I wanted to stay with him.

Instead...

I remembered Mom.

"Keep walking."

So I picked up the bracelet.

Turned away.

And walked.

My feet bled with every step.

My heart broke with every breath.

Behind me...

The forest waited.

Patient.

Listening.

Knowing that grief grows heavy.

Knowing that one day...

Everyone has to stop walking.