Gustav Van Doren's POV
It was supposed to be an ordinary day. The sun was shining, the air crisp with the scent of fresh spring blooms. Vivian and I had decided on a quiet outing, something we hadn't done in years. Life had been moving too fast — work, responsibilities, and the constant grind of city life. We needed a break, just a moment to feel like ourselves again.
I remember the way her face lit up when I suggested we visit the old picnic spot by the river. We hadn't been there since our early days of dating. "A trip down memory lane." I'd said, grinning, watching her laugh in that way that made me feel like the luckiest man alive.
The drive was peaceful, the radio playing softly in the background as we wound through the rural roads. The city seemed so far away, a distant memory. I stole glances at her from time to time, her auburn hair catching the light just right, her hand resting on the armrest between us. She was humming along to the music, and for the first time in a long while, I felt at peace.
We pulled off the main road onto a dirt path leading to a quiet little park near the riverbank. It wasn't too far from the city, but far enough that you couldn't hear anything except the rustling trees and the water lapping at the shore. It was the kind of place where we could just forget about everything—work, stress, all of it. Just us, together.
Vivian smiled as I parked the car. "I love it here," she said softly. "It's so peaceful."
I smiled back, grabbing the picnic basket from the trunk. "Just what we need, right? A day to relax, enjoy the weather. No interruptions."
We laid the blanket under a large oak tree and unpacked the food. I sat down, leaning back, feeling the warm sun on my face. Vivian busied herself with the sandwiches and drinks, but I could see something in her expression, a certain unease, though she hadn't said anything yet.
"Gustav…" she began, her voice trailing off as she glanced toward the trees. "Do you feel... strange here?"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Strange? What, in a place like this? It's perfect. No city noise, no distractions, just us. You're always so sensitive to things, Viv. It's probably nothing."
She gave me a half-smile but didn't seem convinced. "I don't know... I just—there's something about this place. It's too quiet."
I took a bite of my sandwich, brushing off her worry. "You always say that when we're out in nature. You're not used to the quiet. Come on, let's just enjoy this. We needed this break."
Vivian fell silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the dense forest surrounding the clearing. The wind had picked up slightly, rustling the leaves, but other than that, the stillness remained. She sighed softly and sat down beside me, resting her head on my shoulder.
"I guess you're right," she said quietly. "I'm just being silly."
But there was something about the way she said it that made me pause. Her words seemed... distant. I glanced at her, noticing how her eyes flickered toward the tree line again, as if she was expecting something to emerge from the shadows.
"You sure you're okay?" I asked, more to calm her than because I was truly worried. "It's just us here. Nothing but nature."
She nodded, though her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. "Yeah, I'm fine."
We ate in relative silence after that. The mood had shifted, but I tried to ignore it, to focus on the moment, on the reason we had come here in the first place. This was supposed to be our escape, our day to reconnect. And yet, despite my best efforts, I couldn't shake the feeling that Vivian was still distracted.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her sit up a little straighter, her body tensing.
"Gustav," she said again, her voice more urgent now. "I heard something."
I sighed, setting down my drink. "It's just the wind, Viv. Relax. You're letting your imagination run wild again."
"No, I'm serious," she insisted, her eyes darting toward the trees. "It sounded like—like footsteps."
I forced a laugh, standing up and stretching. "Footsteps? Out here? Come on, you're making it sound like we're in some horror movie. There's no one around for miles."
But as I stood there, hands on my hips, I did hear something. A faint rustling, like someone—or something—moving through the underbrush. I glanced at Vivian, and she met my gaze, her face pale.
"See?" she whispered. "I told you."
I frowned, but I wasn't about to let a little noise ruin our day. "It's probably just some animal, Viv. A deer or something."
She shook her head, her eyes wide. "No, it sounded bigger than that. And it wasn't just moving... it stopped. Like it's watching us."
I sighed, brushing off the growing unease in my own chest. "Look, I'll go check it out, okay? You stay here, I'll be right back."
Before she could protest, I started toward the treeline, more annoyed than anything else. Vivian was always the one with the wild imagination, jumping at shadows. I loved her for it, but sometimes it was hard to tell when she was just being paranoid or when there was something real to worry about.
As I neared the edge of the trees, the sound grew louder, more distinct. It wasn't just the wind. There was something moving in the woods. I stopped, peering into the shadows, but saw nothing. Just trees and shrubs, the occasional bird flitting between branches.
"See?" I called back to Vivian, forcing a smile. "Nothing here."
But before I could take another step, I saw it. Just for a split second, something moved. Something large, just beyond the trees. My breath caught in my throat, and for the first time that day, I felt a chill creep up my spine.
I turned quickly, heading back toward the blanket where Vivian was already on her feet, eyes wide with fear. "We should go." she said, her voice trembling.
I tried to laugh it off, but the feeling of being watched was growing stronger. "Yeah, maybe we should."
We packed up quickly, the quiet no longer peaceful but oppressive. As we walked back to the car, I kept glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting to see something—someone—following us.
We never spoke about it again, not really. But from that day on, something changed between us. I could tell Vivian hadn't brushed it off as easily as I had, and deep down, neither had I.
I should've listened to her. Should've taken her instincts seriously. Because now, as I stand here telling this story, I realize that was the moment everything started to fall apart. That was the day I lost her.