Hannah's heart leapt as her father's name flickered on her phone screen. In the midst of the chaos, she hadn't even realized she was still clutching it. How was he calling her now, of all times?
She glanced nervously at Thomas and Grace, both focused intently on the encroaching creatures. The shadows around them twisted, elongating with an almost predatory patience as the creatures crept forward. Thomas's grip on his shotgun tightened, his gaze like steel, while Grace's fingers danced anxiously over the book of symbols, as if trying to conjure some last-minute insight. With every second that passed, the noose of fear pulled tighter around them.
Her phone buzzed again, pulling her back to the present. Her father was calling back. Torn between the impossible choice of answering and remaining silent, Hannah hesitated, her finger hovering above the screen. Then, unable to resist, she hit "Answer" and pressed the phone to her ear, keeping her voice a low whisper.
"Dad?" she breathed, hardly daring to hope.
A long silence filled the line, broken only by faint static. And then, she heard him—a lifeline in the dark. "Hannah… you need to listen to me carefully. Whatever you're seeing… it's real. And it's dangerous. But I can help you. You have to trust me."
Relief and confusion tangled together as her father's familiar voice washed over her. She could barely remember the last time she'd heard him so clearly, yet here he was, calling her in her darkest moment. "Dad… I don't understand. What are these things? Why are they after me?"
His voice remained calm but edged with urgency. "There's no time for details. Those creatures—they feed on fear and memory. They're drawn to your emotions, your vulnerability. But I know how you can weaken them. Do exactly as I say."
Hannah felt Thomas and Grace watching her, their expressions laced with suspicion and fear. The creatures edged closer, and Hannah sensed an unnatural, almost magnetic pull, as if they were trying to dig into her mind, to root out her deepest fears.
Her father's voice cut through the haze. "Close your eyes, Hannah. Focus on a memory. Something strong, something that brings you peace. Find that place in your mind and hold onto it like it's a shield."
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe, to block out the creeping terror. For a brief, panicked moment, her mind was blank. But then, a memory emerged—her mother's comforting embrace, the scent of fresh bread on a lazy Sunday afternoon, her mother's soft words of encouragement whenever she doubted herself. The warmth of the memory wrapped around her like a protective cloak, and she held onto it, letting it drive away the fear inch by inch.
The creatures paused, their forms flickering and dimming slightly, as if uncertain. Her father's voice steadied her. "Good, Hannah. You're pushing them back. Hold onto that memory, make it real. They're feeding off your fear, but you can deny them that."
Encouraged, she deepened her focus, weaving the memory tighter around her. Her heartbeat slowed, her grip on the phone firm as she connected to her father's voice and the warmth of her mother's memory. The creatures seemed to waver, some fading back into the darkness, their ghostly forms breaking apart.
But then, her father's tone softened, almost like a confession. "I always knew this day would come… I just didn't want you to face it alone."
"What do you mean?" she whispered, eyes still shut. But before he could answer, the line went silent, leaving only the hum of the forest and the echo of his words.
Her eyes flew open. The creatures had stopped advancing, their ghostly, skeletal forms flickering and stretching like smoke caught in an invisible wind. Thomas and Grace stared in amazement, the danger momentarily lifted. Grace's eyes were wide with a question that she didn't dare voice aloud.
"Hannah… what did you just do?" Grace's whisper was filled with awe and fear.
Hannah shook her head, too overwhelmed to answer. She felt her father's words resonating deep within her—a strange mixture of comfort and dread, filling her with questions she was afraid to ask.
But the calm was short-lived. Suddenly, the creatures let out an unearthly, bone-chilling shriek, their distorted faces twisted with rage. In a slow, jerking motion, they began backing away, retreating into the dense shadows of the forest. The silence that followed was as deafening as their cries, a heavy, unsettling stillness settling over the clearing.
"We can't stay here," Thomas said, breaking the quiet with a grim determination. "Whatever that was… it bought us time, but not much. We need to finish what we came here to do."
Hannah nodded, pocketing the phone, still warm from the call, as they hurried deeper into the woods. She could feel an unspoken urgency guiding them, a silent countdown that pulsed in her chest. Despite the temporary reprieve, the creatures would be back. And this time, they wouldn't be as easily driven away.
The forest around them grew darker, the shadows more oppressive as they pressed forward. Twisting branches clawed at their clothes, and Hannah felt eyes watching them from every angle, unseen presences that made her skin crawl. Each step felt like wading deeper into a nightmare.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached a small clearing. Grace knelt down, gesturing to a cluster of plants growing near the base of an old, gnarled tree. "Nightshade," she said, her voice low and reverent. She began carefully gathering the leaves, her fingers moving with steady precision. "We're almost there. Just a bit more, and we'll have everything we need for the ritual."
Hannah watched her work, her mind still churning with questions. Why had her father known so much? And what had he meant about expecting this day to come? She glanced at Thomas, wanting to ask if he knew anything, but her voice died in her throat when a distant, rumbling sound echoed through the forest.
They all turned, staring back through the trees. In the distance, a faint orange glow illuminated the night sky, the unmistakable sign of flames licking the darkness.
The cabin was burning.
For a moment, they stood frozen, the reality sinking in as smoke rose, curling like dark fingers into the starless sky. Their safe haven, their final refuge, was being destroyed. The creatures had retaliated, taking advantage of their absence, erasing the one place they could hide.
Hannah's heart twisted with a mix of despair and anger. They were exposed now, vulnerable in the open, with nowhere left to retreat. They had only half the materials they needed for the ritual, and time was slipping away.
As they stood in the eerie light of the burning cabin, the forest seemed to close in around them. Hannah could feel the weight of the creatures' presence, a silent, watchful threat pressing in on all sides. The shadows seemed to breathe, stretching and shifting, as if they were waiting, biding their time.
But then, a chilling realization hit her: the creatures weren't just attacking mindlessly. They had a purpose. They were orchestrating this, driving her into a corner, a desperation that pulsed as strongly as her own.
As the fire consumed the cabin in the distance, she clenched her fists, a cold certainty settling over her. This wasn't just survival anymore. If they were willing to burn down her last sanctuary to flush her out, they were more determined than she had ever realized.
They wouldn't stop until they had her. Or until she found a way to stop them first.
The flames roared, casting an ominous glow over the clearing. As the smoke cleared, a shadowed figure emerged from the depths of the forest, striding towards them with an unyielding purpose. The faint outline grew clearer, and as Hannah's eyes adjusted, a chill washed over her.
She recognized him.