A dream, more like a nightmare.
That is what it felt like.
You might be wondering why.
It hadn't even been a year since they buried their dear friend, Zade Watson.
He too, was sent on an early grave.
The night of Zade Watson's death was a memory they all wished they could erase. Even eight months later, it haunted them like a relentless shadow, replaying in fragmented flashes whenever they closed their eyes. Now, sitting in the dim glow of the common room, Amber stares at her hands as though the answers might be etched into her skin.They had all been there that night.
EIGHT MONTHS AGO....
Zade, full of bravado, had convinced them it would be an adventure—a thrilling tale to recount later. The old industrial compound on the edge of town was fenced off with towering barbed wire and emblazoned with warning signs. Restricted Area: No Trespassing. It was meant to deter, but to Zade, it was an invitation.
He wanted something exciting, an unforgettable prank, which I am pretty sure, he accomplished by his death.
"Come on," he had urged, his grin infectious. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Amber, Alison, Kyro, James, Micha, and Zade had all followed, some more reluctantly than others. Zade led the way, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness as they slipped under a gap in the fence. The air was thick with the scent of rust and decay, the compound eerily silent except for the occasional creak of wind against metal.
They hadn't seen the warning signs for the guard dogs until it was too late.
Amber's breath quickened as the memory surged forward. The low growl had been the first sign. Then, out of the shadows, the dogs appeared—massive, snarling beasts with eyes that glinted like steel. Panic erupted. Everyone scattered, their shouts mingling with the dogs' feral barks. In the chaos, Amber had seen Zade trip over a rusted pipe.
"Run!" he had yelled, waving them off as the first dog lunged.
Amber's legs had carried her forward, but her heart stayed behind. She'd glanced back only once, the image burned into her memory—Zade on the ground, a dog clamped onto his arm as another lunged for his throat.
But it was Alison who had seen the worst. Frozen in terror, she had turned just as Zade's scream split the air. His eyes, wide with fear, locked onto hers for a fleeting moment—a desperate plea for help. Then the dogs tore into him, their teeth ripping through flesh with brutal efficiency. Blood sprayed in arcs, staining the cracked concrete beneath him. The guttural snarls of the dogs mixed with Zade's choking cries, and Alison's legs finally obeyed, carrying her away with tears streaming down her face.They'd all made it out—all except Zade.
The investigation that followed brought little solace. The authorities determined the group had been trespassing on private property, making their actions illegal. Their accounts of that night were dismissed as recklessness, and no charges were filed against the property owners. The guard dogs, it turned out, were supposed to be locked in their kennels at night. But that revelation only deepened the group's unease."How did the dogs get out?" James had asked during one of their strained discussions. No one had an answer.
The official reports claimed the dogs had been improperly secured, a mistake chalked up to negligence. But to Amber, and to the others in their group, it felt like more than a coincidence. Guard dogs as vicious as those were not left to roam freely without intention.
"What if…" Alison had hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper, "what if someone let them out?"Kyro had dismissed the idea at first, but even his skepticism wavered when the details didn't add up. Why had no one heard the dogs before they attacked? Why hadn't the property owners taken responsibility?
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Now, eight months later, the group was fractured. Alison refused to talk about that night, retreating into herself with a brittle shell of sarcasm and detachment. James had thrown himself into schoolwork, avoiding them altogether. Micha had tried to keep everyone together, but the guilt weighed on her like an anchor. And Kyro… Kyro carried an anger that simmered just below the surface, aimed at anyone who dared mention Zade's name.
"We shouldn't have gone," Amber murmured to no one in particular, her voice barely audible.
Kyro, who was leaning against the wall, looked up sharply. "You think?" he snapped. "We told him it was a bad idea. He didn't listen. And now he's dead, together with Micha."
Amber flinched but didn't respond. She knew Kyro's anger wasn't just for Zade. It was for all of them, for their collective decision to follow when they should have said no.
"Enough," Alison said softly but firmly. She was perched on the edge of the couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Blaming each other won't bring either of them back."
"Nothing will," Amber muttered from the corner, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "So why keep rehashing it? We should've just left it alone."
"We didn't know," James said quietly, speaking for the first time. He was seated near the window, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside. "We didn't know it would end like that."
"But we should've," Amber said, her voice breaking. Tears blurred her vision as she looked at her friends, their faces etched with grief and guilt. "We should've known better. And now he's gone because of us."
The room fell into a heavy silence, each of them lost in their own memories of that fateful night. The bond they once shared was now a fragile thread, strained by the weight of what they had seen and done.
Outside, the wind howled, its mournful cry a fitting backdrop to their collective grief. Amber clenched her fists, the guilt clawing at her insides. Zade's laughter, his fearless grin, his final act of selflessness—they haunted her every waking moment.
And somewhere in the shadows of her mind, a chilling question lingered: Was it really an accident?