The Watcher in the Trees

A raven screeched it’s harsh and raspy cry from a perch in the bare trees above my head, causing me to flinch and freeze mid-step. A quiet wind wove through the trees and carried the sound with it, distorting it the farther away it travelled. My head snapped up to the offending creature, its own head cocking to the side as it met my glare; my hazel eyes narrowing. Even though it was a good ten feet above me, I could still see the gleam of crimson in its beady gaze.

A raven with blood red eyes.

Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.

“Stupid bird,” I muttered. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my frantically beating heart. The leaves crunched beneath my boots as I started walking again, adjusting the backpack straps on my shoulders as I went.

The path through the woods where I usually hike every Saturday was painted with gold and red leaves from the nearby trees, the noon sunlight making the colours glow. I couldn’t resist taking some pictures with my camera, a Christmas gift from my sister Nadia last year.

“You’re talented Ana,” she had said with a smirk. My nephew Ivan was curled up on her lap, fast asleep with his new handheld video game thingy clutched in his small hands. ‘Gamer Boy’, or something across those lines. “Too talented to be limited to that excuse of a camera on your phone,” she laughed, sticking out her tongue at the face I made, brushing some golden curls from Ivan’s forehead.

I had stepped away from the well-used trail to get a closer shot of a particularly interesting looking mushroom, walking a few meters into the brush. Satisfied with my pictures, I turned around to get back to the path, brushing some moss of my jeans as I went.

That was over two hours ago.

Now, the sun was quickly changing shifts with its sister, the sky darkening in its absence as I stalked through the woods trying to desperately find that stupid path again. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t scared. I’m alone, in the middle of nowhere, my light level dwindling, and lost in the woods.

And it doesn’t help that for the last half hour, I’ve been seeing shadowy figures dance on the edges of my sight, and hearing noises in the forest that sound too close to footsteps for my liking. I blame it on my rising panic of being lost in the woods at nightfall.

I keep walking. Because if I stop walking I don’t think I’ll make it out of here. And I need to make it out. I have to.

I tugged my parka hood down as another gust of frigid October air hits my face, blowing a few strands of my long auburn hair across my face. A shiver shot through my spine and I resisted the urge to chatter my teeth. My hands were stiff with the cold and my breath came in wispy puffs of vapour before dissipating. I need to get to shelter, I tell myself. If I can find a place to stay for the night, then I can find my way out in the morning.

Another shadow scurried in my peripheral, long gone by the time my eyes found where it stood. I swallowed down the panic and anxiety that was twisting in my stomach and forced my numb feet forward, shoving my hand in my vest pockets. I have to be near the edge of the forest by now.

Right?

———————

Time slipped away and before I knew it the sun was slinking behind the nearby mountain peaks, and small white flakes had started to drift lazily from the incoming clouds that were claiming the skies. And I was still lost.

I trampled through a thicket of bushes, a branch coming loose and smacking me across the cheek. I yelped rather unceremoniously. Tugging down the sleeve on my right hand, I brushed it across my face with a wince. A streak of scarlet tinged the grey fabric of my cuff. Ouch. I pushed myself through the shrub, losing my balance slightly.

And then I found it.

A small cabin tucked into the trees. Well, a hut more like it. A porch decorated the front of the building with a single window to the right of the door. Miraculously, the glass was still intact. The roof sagged from years of neglect and weathering. There were no visible gaping holes so that was a good sign.

I lurched forward and ran- stumbled more like- as fast as my numb feet would carry me. If there was shelter then there might be a fireplace which meant warmth. Food was pushing it, judging by the deserted appearance, but I still had some protein bars left in my pack.

The door creaked as I pushed it open with a shaking hand, the hinges barely holding up the wood. The interior of the hut was a mess to say the least. Dried leaves blew across the floor from the breeze caused by my entrance, taking up a swirl of dust with them. Cobwebs stretched across almost every surface.

A small spring framed bed and wooden nightstand were in the corner to my right, the mattress sagging and a moth-eaten quilt tossed haphazardly across it. But I was more interested in the wood burning stove sat on the far side with a small but all too enticing stack of wood beside it.

“H-hell yeah!” I stuttered, beyond chilled at this point. I stumbled into the room before kneeling before the stove, opening the glass-faced door and shoving some kindling into it along with some old papers nearby. I shrugged off my pack and dug through one of the pockets. I pulled my hand out with a smile having found what I was searching for. I struck several matches before the wood caught, throwing in an extra few just for an added boost. I closed the door with a clank.

I flexed my stiff hands in front of my small fire, willing some warmth to return. I snatched the quilt off the bed and hugged it around my shoulders, ignoring the cloud of dust that flew from it. I huddled in front of the little stove with my new layer. After a few minutes the shivering started to ease up, and I could feel my fingertips again.

I was just thinking of checking the nightstand for candles or anything burnable when the screaming started.

The air shot out of my lungs as the scream tore through the air like a hot knife through butter. I froze as the cry rang out; a broken wail that echoed in my head even after it ended.

Crouching, I crept as silently as I could to the window, sliding my hand across the rough frame before peeking out a fraction of an inch. The glass was murky with dirt and grime, only allowing me to see blobs of colour in the almost nonexistent light outside. My eyes frantically darted across everything trying to figure out what the hell was making that noise!

I was just starting to get control over my breathing when the window was instantly shadowed by a black figure. A slender and ghostly hand pressed against the glass right in front of my face with a thud. I bolted down against the floor and flattened myself as much as possible.

Holy shit holyshitholyshit!!

My heart beat against my rib gage like a hundred jackhammers. I pressed a shaking hand to my mouth to keep myself from crying out, squeezing my eyes shut against the sudden burn of tears that threatened to escape.

The boards of the porch creaked with unheard footsteps, the form behind the glass slowly slinking away and releasing the window from its shadow. I didn’t dare move. I locked every muscle in my body and fought to keep my breathing silent. A light scraping sound reached my ears, like nails against wood. But that was drowned out when another ear-piercing scream rent the air.

When it finally stopped I stayed frozen to the ground. My heart was still frantic. It was well past dark when I finally pried myself off the floor, my stiff limbs protesting, and into a sitting position in the corner between the bed and the wall, hugging my knees to my chest.

My brain was screaming, a million thoughts firing in my skull each second. What the hell was that!? Did that thing make the scream? Is someone else out there? Are they trapped too?

I shuddered. My fire had almost gone out, the temperature noticeably dropping. I crawled over and threw some more wood in, relishing the small wave of heat that rolled over my face. The flame eagerly licked at the new fuel. I sighed as I sat back on my heels, watching the light grow as it consumed the wood. I reached over to my bag that I left there earlier, snatching out my water and taking a few quick sips before replacing it. Better save the food for later.

I glanced around the cabin, my eyes falling on the small wood stand next to the bed. I made my way over to the nightstand, I hadn’t searched it yet and I needed to find anything that might be useful. I slid open the first drawer, hoping to find something. Dust greeted me from the empty compartment, I closed it and opened the second. My eyes lit up at the sight of a few white candles sitting against the dark wood.

I snatched them, and a small brass chamberstick, out of the drawer. I wedged one onto the base and grabbed for my matches, fumbling in the dark. The first one that I struck snapped in two, my shaking fingers not helping at all. The second caught immediately, and I lowered it to the candlewick before it went out. A soft glow illuminated my face as it caught, casting shadows on the walls.

Lifting the brass handle, I carried my light to the windowsill. Probably a stupid decision, but I didn’t really care at this point. Maybe someone would see the candle and bring help. Maybe I could escape whatever creature lurked outside, waiting for me to slip and make a run for it.

I lit the second wax pillar and set it on top of the nightstand. The warm light did little to ease the twisted mass of fear and anxiety in my chest, but I could breathe a little easier.

The wind howled outside the flimsy walls. I hugged my vest and parka tighter, bundling the quilt over my head. Exhaustion was claiming my mind as the last of the adrenaline left my system. I let my head fall back against the wall with a muffled thud, my eyes drifting shut on their own accord.

My last thought before I slipped into unconsciousness was of my nephew’s peaceful face as he slept, and wondering if I would ever see his sweet face again.

—————————

The raven perched high in the trees, it’s feathers gleaming in the rising sun.

The woods were unnaturally quiet. No birds sang in the morning light. No squirrels bickered in the trees. Even the wind itself seemed to hide away.

The bird surveyed, and waited.

The scream that rang through the forest that morning was what it was waiting for. It tilted its head as the cry echoed, it’s ruby eyes narrowing. When the wail cut off, the bird took flight, gliding through the air as easy as breathing. It soared over a small cabin, half hidden in the trees. The window smashed and the door hung loosely on its hinges. The only sign that anyone had inhabited it was a few red embers in the cookstove, and a grey parka with a crimson streak on its cuff.