Affliction

A scream pierces the still night air. Slicing through the trees before it’s cut off, like someone clamps a hand over their mouth.

I freeze in the middle of the trail, breath fogging in the cool night air. The forest feels wrong. Too still. Even the crickets have gone quiet.

“Hello?” I call, hating the way my voice trembles.

A rustling answer comes from deeper in the woods. Not the light skittering of a rabbit. Something heavier. Every instinct scream at me to run home, lock the door, and pretend I hear nothing.

A small cry pierces the air. I step off the dirt path. Something heavy falls to the ground as another scream pierces the air.

Someone’s in trouble.

Branches snag at my sleeves as I push through the undergrowth as fast as I can. Everything in these woods is mostly harmless but we occasionally get lynx or bear sightings. I’m not entirely sure I can fight off a bear, but my dad would kil me if I turned away from someone in need.

I break into a small clearing.

And I see her.

She’s on the ground, back pressed against a fallen log, eyes wide and glassy with shock. Her phone lies a few feet away, its flashlight beam cutting sideways through the trees. One of her sneakers is missing.

She’s not alone.

The thing crouching over her looks like a person—but twisted. Its sickly grey flesh is littered with cuts; some are small like knicks from branches or falls but others are larger as if someone took a knife to it. Its knees are bent backwards as, making my insides twist with nausea.

Without thinking, I take a step back. A twig snaps under my weight. The creature jerks its head up, its eyes widely searching before they land on me.

Blood leaks from the corners of its mouth, sliding down its chin. Its eyes are too bright, catching the girls discarded phones light like an animal’s. My heart stops in my chest then hammers gives two giant painful pumps before it hammers inside me like its trying to break free of my ribs.

Movement catches my eye as the girl tries to get up but her arms are too weak to support her. She falls back into the dirt with a soft thud. It looks back down on her as a mix of spittle and blood drip from its mouth.

I’m helpless as it lowers its mouth to her flesh. She screams. Her fingers clawing weakly at its arms, leaving white streaks through the black sludge coating its skin.

A wet tearing sounds breaks through the still of the forest. The kind of sound that feels like it’s happening inside my body. Her scream breaks into a wet gurgle. Her hands fall to her sides weakly.

The creature shudders. A low vibration starts in its chest. A steady, unsettling rumble. Her movements grow slower, fingers slipping. Her wide eyes stare up into the night sky without blinking.

She’s dead.

Despite being outside, it’s like there’s not enough air. I can’t take a full breath no matter how hard I try. I know I should run. Every horror movie starts this way with the victim just watching the bad thing, just waiting to be caught. It’s predicable and I hate it. But I can’t find it in myself to move. It’s like my feet have grown roots into the forest floor.

The creature pulls back to look at her face.

I stagger backward, bile burning my throat. A branch snaps under my heel. The creature’s head jerks toward me. The creature smiles at me, its teeth stained red with blood.

Black sludge stretches between them as it straightens slowly, unfolding to its full height. The girl’s body slips sideways onto the leaves with a dull thud.

The creature steps over her body, its eyes locked onto me.

I run.

The forest blurs around me, every breath scraping my throat like sandpaper. My legs feel like they’re tearing apart with each step, but stopping isn’t an option. Not with that thing behind me. Branches claw at my arms as I sprint through the brush, leaving thin, burning lines across my skin. I can barely feel them.

I break through the trees and see my house; relief hits me so hard it almost knocks me off my feet. Then something else does. A crushing weight slams into my back, driving me into the dirt. The impact knocks the air out of me in a single, strangled gasp. My hands scrape against the ground as I try to crawl forward, but the creature’s limbs close around me with a strength that feels impossible. Its nails dig into my skin—not slicing, but anchoring, like hooks meant to keep prey from escaping.

“Get off me!”

The creature doesn’t budge. Its breath hits the back of my neck, hot and damp, carrying a smell that makes my stomach twist. Its teeth press into my skin. Not deep. Just enough to make my whole body lock up. My pulse hammers at the side of my neck, right under the press of the creature’s teeth.

Its tongue slides across my skin. A sharp pain radiates down my neck. Something wet and warm slides down my neck followed by the sandpaper scrape of its tongue. I hate the sound of the whimper that escapes my throat, but I can’t stop it. A low vibration starts in its chest, a steady, unsettling rumble.

It takes me a second to understand.

It’s purring. The thing pinning me down—holding me like it owns me—is purring because it likes the taste of me.

“HELP!”

Panic surges through me so violently it feels like my body might tear itself apart trying to escape. Then, the weight is gone. I don’t question it. I don’t breathe. I just run. Blood slides down my neck and arm as I sprint up the hill. My legs shake so badly I almost fall, but I force myself forward. The house. The door. Safety.

I crash inside, slamming the door, and run down the hallway.

“MOM! DAD?”

The silence that answers me is worse than the creature’s breath. By the time I reach my room, I’m shaking so hard I can barely climb onto the bed. I dive under the covers, heart pounding so hard it hurts. Footsteps echo down the hallway.

Holding my breath, I don’t dare move.

I jolt upright, a scream ripping out of me. My chest aches from how hard my heart is pounding. Sweat clings to my skin, cold and sticky.

My bedroom door bursts open, knocking against the wall. I fist my hands in my blankets, expecting the creature to burst through the door and finish what it started.

Relief floods my body; my hands loosen in the sheets as my dad walks through the door. His brown hair mussed from sleep, and his glasses perched haphazardly on the end of his nose. Even in his white robe, he could not look more like a history professor if he tried.

He crosses the room in a few quiet steps, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight, and lowers himself onto the edge of my mattress. The bed dips under him. He adjusts his robe, tugging it closed against the cool night air. His hand finds my calf under the blankets, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Another nightmare?”

My throat feels tight, raw from screaming. I flop back against my pillow, which is damp with sweat, and pull the blankets up to my chin. The fabric brushes against my lips as I avoid his eyes, staring instead at the faint glow of my alarm clock.

God, how was I about to start grade eleven and still waking my dad in the middle of the night?

“I’m sorry.”

He squeezes my calf again, this time slower, giving me a quick pat before resting his hand there. “It’s okay, baby girl. It’s just stress. I still get nightmares every fall before new classes start.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He offers a tired smile, pushing his glasses back up his nose with one finger. It’s okay to be nervous. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

I nod my head, desperate to believe his words.

“Get some sleep.” He stands, the bed rising as his weight leaves it. He smooths a hand over my hair before leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. His stubble scratches lightly against my skin.

close my eyes, forcing my muscles to relax, willing myself to drift off. But the second the darkness presses in, the images return—flashes of teeth, claws, shadow—looping behind my eyelids.