Ashes of The Hidden Wolf

The forest was quieter than it should have been.

I noticed it half way up the trail, when the only sound left was the crunching of the leaves beneath my boots and the steady rhythm of my breathing. No birds. No squirrels. Just the wind whispering through the trees.

Dad would have loved this place.

The thought made my chest tighten.

I pulled the strap of my backpack up and stepped over a fallen branch, following the narrow trail deeper into the trees. According to the map on my phone, the waterfall should be close now. The signal had disappeared miles ago, but I had memorized the route before I lost it.

Three days of driving.

Two hours of hiking.

All for this.

I stopped for a moment and reached into the small pocket of my pack, pulled the worn photograph I had carried with me since the funeral.

The edges were soft from years of being handled. Dad must have looked at it a thousand times.

The pictured showed a waterfall spilling down a wall of dark stone into a clear pool below. Tall cliffs surrounded it, and thick forest stretched out in every direction. On the back of the photo, written in my father 's handwriting were three words.

My favorite place.

I never knew where it was. Not until I started my search.

Waterfall databases, topographical maps, hiking blogs-anything that might help me locate the image. It took months, but eventually I found someone who had posted a similar picture from a remote part of the mountains.

When I saw it I knew.

Dad never said he wanted his ashes scattered there. He never wrote it down. But I knew him well enough to understand.

If there was one place he wanted to rest... it was here.

As I moved closer I began to hear the roar of the water.

My heart lifted.

I slipped the photo back into my pocket and kept walking, pushing past a curtain of low branches. The sound of the waterfall grew louder with every step until the trees opened.

And there it was.

The waterfall was even more beautiful than the picture.

Water crashed down the rocky cliff, mist rising where it struck the pool below. Sunlight filtered through the trees above, catching in the spray so the whole clearing shimmered.

For a moment, I just stood there.

"Wow" I whispered.

Dad had been right.

It was perfect.

My throat tightened as I pulled my backpack off my shoulders and knelt beside it. My hands trembled slightly as I unzipped the main compartment and lifted out the silver urn.

It felt heavier than it should have.

Or maybe that was the weight of what it meant.

"I made it Dad" I said softly.

The wind stirred the trees around the clearing.

For a second, I almost imagined he could hear me.

I walked towards the edge of the pool, the roar of the waterfall filling my ears. Mist cooled my skin as I stopped on a flat rock overlooking the water.

This was it. I held the urn against my chest and closed my eyes.

"You always said this was your favorite place," I murmured. "I finally found it."

My fingers tighten around the lid.

"I miss you dad"

The words caught in my throat.

For a moment, the only sound was the waterfall.

Then something moved in the trees behind me.

A sharp snap of a twig somewhere in the trees behind me.

Slowly, I turned my head towards the forest.

The shadows between the trees seemed darker now.

And suddenly, I had the strange, unsettling feeling that I was not alone.

Something was watching me.

I froze, the urn still clutched in my hands.

"Hello?" I said cautiously.

The word sounded weak against the roar of the waterfall.

No answer.

I told myself it was nothing. A deer, maybe. Or a raccoon.

Still, the hairs on the back of my neck lifted.

For a moment nothing moved.

I exhaled shakily and looked back down at the urn.

"Okay" I whispered. "You're are just being paranoid."

I twisted the lid slightly, ready to open it.

Another sound came from the trees.

This time it was not a twig.

It was a low rustling, like something large shifting through the underbrush.

My heart jumped to my throat.

That was definitely not a raccoon.

"Seriously?" I muttered under my breath. "Of all the times for wildlife to show up."

The forest went still again. Too still.

A cold knot formed in my stomach.

Every instinct I had suddenly screamed the same thing.

Run.

I swallowed hard and carefully placed the urn back into my backpack, my finger fumbling the zipper.

"I'll come back" I murmured quietly, glancing once more over my shoulder and took a slow step away from the clearing.

Another branch snapped.

Closer this time.

My pulse pounded as I slung the backpack over my shoulders and took another step away from the clearing.

The moment I reached the edge of the trees, the feeling hit me again.

Like eyes were locked onto me.

Watching.

Waiting.

And suddenly I realized....

I was not alone.

Thanks for reading Chapter 1!

I would love to hear your thoughts, like comment and follow the story please. Chapter 2 coming soon!