Chapter 1
Dry leaves crackled under my feet. It was very dark and foggy, making it hard to see anything clearly. The leaves on the trees rustled in the wind. I couldn’t find anyone who knew the way out.
“Help!!... Is there someone??” I cried, but I heard nothing except the echo of my voice bouncing back from every direction.
The wind was cold. My hands and knees ached badly because of it. My body trembled. I was losing hope that anyone would come to take me home.
“P-please… save me...” I could only whisper a few words. My throat felt tight, and it was difficult to swallow because of the cold.
I curled up near a tree, hugging my knees with the last of my remaining strength, trying to warm myself. I looked around—desperate to call out to someone, to see any sign of hope that I’d survive the night.
I saw some bushes rustling... no, not because of the wind, but because of—maybe—some animal. I stared at them, fearing I’d be killed and devoured by a wild beast. The fog thickened slightly, and I saw those same captivating yet terrifying blue eyes. Shining eyes… as if they had tracked every step I had taken. As if they were ready to tear my flesh apart and eat me.
But my heart dropped the moment they started moving closer. It picked up pace after being slowed by the cold. I hugged my knees tighter and squeezed my eyes shut as I heard the footsteps of the predator. I tried to scream, but my voice got stuck in my throat—a weak, strangled whine escaped instead.
The footsteps grew louder... my heart pounded wildly in my chest—
“Arrrrrrgggghhhhh!” the creature growled—
BAM.
I jolted awake and fell off the bed. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead. My hands trembled as I wiped them, yet I felt relief that it wasn’t real.
I checked my phone. It was 3 a.m.
But how could this happen? How could I have the same nightmare at exactly the same time every morning?
I was still trembling.
I don’t turn off the light. Living alone is a struggle in itself—and more so when it’s in a rented farmhouse near the woods, no?
I sleep prepared every night: a gun by my pillow and a sharp knife on the table. I even replaced the wooden doors with iron ones for a sense of security. But one thing that still unsettles me is the window. It looks out onto the jungle. And the animal that comes to hunt me in my dreams… it’s all so horrible.
I went to the kitchen and gulped down a glass of water.
I really should look for another house—something in my budget and far from this hellhole of a place.
I decided to put on a movie or something. There was no way I could sleep after waking up like that.
Recently, I got placed at Altar.co. They offered a generous package, and I didn’t think twice. I even agreed to night shifts just to secure the job.
When I told my father about the location, he seemed a bit concerned—it was somewhere deep in the woods. Still, he helped me find a decent farmhouse. I reassured him that his daughter was brave and unafraid of anything.
And my mother… I still remember how her eyes welled up with worry.
Ugh… not this. I’d go for a rom-com instead.
After watching for about two hours, I got up to get ready for work. My shift was from seven to four—no one was allowed to stay in the woods after that.
I took a shower and did my skincare routine. Although the employees were friendly, there was one person I couldn’t stand—a middle-aged, talkative man who constantly criticized everything I did.
I finished my skincare and got dressed in formal attire. I toasted some bread and spread butter on it.
Ring ring.
My phone rang. It was my mother, who often called to wake me up after I’d been late to work because of nightmares.
“Mm, yes Mom. Good morning. Whatcha doing?” I asked, taking a bite.
“I called to wake my baby up. But it’s strange to hear you’re already having breakfast!” she replied, surprise clear in her voice.
I chuckled softly. “Thanks to the nightmare, Mom. I’ve been awake since three. I guess I’m starting to get used to this timeline now,” I said, taking a sip of milk.
“Have you spoken to a therapist, like I suggested? You deserve a good night’s sleep, dear,” she said with concern. I knew she wouldn’t let it go, so I lied.
“Yes, Mom. I’ve booked an appointment for this weekend. Don’t worry.”
The truth was, there wasn’t a single clinic nearby—only one house, and that too was half a kilometre away.
“Good. Oh… it’s already 6:30. Alright, my little girl—it’s time for you to go,” she said.
“Alright, Mom.” I ended the call.
The fog still lingered outside. I tied my boots securely, placed the gun in the holster at my waist for safety, and locked the door. Then I got into my car and started driving toward the Altar headquarters.
