Asher paced outside the inn, his phone pressed to his ear. The static hum on the other end hadn't changed in the past hour. No bars, no connection, no way to reach anyone beyond Raven's Peak.
He cursed under his breath and lowered the phone, staring at the blank signal icon like it was mocking him. He tried again, punching in another number. This time, he didn't even get the static, just an immediate dead line.
"Fantastic," he muttered, pocketing the useless device.
Leaning against the porch railing, Asher let out a frustrated sigh. That's when it hit him he hadn't even tried to make a phone call the previous day. Between the forest, the wolf, and the strangeness surrounding Van, his mind had been so focused on finding answers that he hadn't thought about contacting anyone for help.
He shook his head, annoyed at himself. "Smart move, Asher," he muttered. "Spend all day running around chasing ghosts and forget the one thing that could actually get you out of here."
But now it didn't matter. The faint hope that he might still reach someone was dashed every time he glanced at the signal bar.
The thought of being stranded here gnawed at him, but Asher wasn't one to sit idly. If he was stuck for the next two days, he'd at least learn what he could about this strange town and its people.
The townsfolk were no more welcoming than they had been the day before. Every polite inquiry Asher made was met with clipped answers, suspicious glances, or outright silence.
He wandered the narrow streets, noting how old everything looked. The wooden storefronts were faded, their signs weathered and cracked. Even the air smelled ancient, like damp wood and earth. He stopped at a small general store, stepping inside to escape the judging eyes outside.
The shopkeeper, a wiry man with thinning hair, barely looked up from his counter. Asher cleared his throat.
"Excuse me," he began, keeping his tone friendly. "Do you have anything on the history of this town? Books, maps, anything like that?"
The man's gaze flicked up, his expression cold. "Ain't much to know."
"Nothing at all?" Asher pressed, leaning on the counter. "It's just… it seems like an interesting place. Old, remote. Must have some stories."
The man scowled. "Don't need outsiders digging into things that don't concern them."
Asher straightened, frustration prickling under his skin. "I'm not trying to cause trouble. I'm just curious."
"Curiosity gets people hurt," the shopkeeper muttered, turning his back to Asher.
Asher left the store more frustrated than when he'd entered. It seemed the only thing the townsfolk wanted was for him to leave. But that wasn't happening anytime soon, not with his car out of commission.
He decided to walk along the edge of town, hoping to find a spot where he could get cell reception. His gaze settled on a tall pine tree at the edge of a clearing. If he could climb it, maybe he'd get high enough to catch a signal.
The first attempt ended with him sliding down the rough bark, his hands stinging from the effort. On the second, he made it halfway before his foot slipped, sending him tumbling to the ground in an undignified heap.
Laughter echoed from nearby.
Asher glanced up, spotting two children siblings by the look of them peeking out from behind a tree. They were young, no older than eleven, their dark hair and wide eyes identical.
"Not funny," he called out, brushing dirt from his jeans.
The boy giggled, while the girl shushed him, pulling him back. They were curious but wary, much like the rest of the town.
"You think you can do better?" Asher challenged lightly, grinning despite himself.
The boy hesitated, but the girl whispered something in his ear, and they both stepped closer.
Within minutes, Asher had them intrigued as he pulled out a few gadgets from his bag. A small flashlight, even a portable speaker that played upbeat tunes. Their initial shyness melted away as they crowded around him, asking questions and poking at his belongings.
"Where are you from?" the boy asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.
"Far from here," Asher replied. "A big city. Lots of noise, lots of people."
"Why'd you come here?" the girl asked.
Asher hesitated, the memory of the forest flashing in his mind. " I came looking for something," he said carefully.
They played for hours, laughter echoing through the clearing. Asher even managed to climb the pine tree with the kids cheering him on, though the signal still eluded him.
It was the girl who, in the quiet lull after their games, blurted out the words that hit Asher like a punch.
"The grown-ups said we shouldn't talk to you," she said, her small voice serious.
Asher blinked. "Why's that?"
"They said you're not one of us," the boy added. "You're… different."
Asher's jaw tightened, but he forced a smile. "Different, huh? Guess that's not so bad."
The kids didn't seem to notice the edge in his voice. They laughed and ran off, leaving Asher standing alone in the clearing.
Not one of us. Different. The words echoed in his mind as he made his way back to the inn. The hostility, the avoidance, the whispers it was all starting to make sense.
"Because I'm not from this rundown town, that's reason enough to treat me like a leper?" he thought bitterly. The anger simmered beneath his skin, but he buried it deep. He wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing him crack.
Night had fallen by the time Asher reached his room. He sank onto the bed, exhaustion washing over him. The day had been long, frustrating, and confusing. His thoughts swirled as he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Far away, on a hill overlooking the forest, Van moved through the shadows of an old house. Chains and shackles hung on the walls, their metallic clink echoing faintly in the still air. A crossbow rested against the corner, and an assortment of needles and vials lay scattered on a wooden table.
Van rummaged through a drawer, his movements quick and methodical. Finally, he pulled out a phone. He stared at it for a moment before dialing a number.
The line crackled.
Van's jaw clenched. He muttered something under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he glanced out the window toward the town below.
Back at the inn, Asher stirred in his sleep, his body curled up tightly. Sweat slicked his forehead, and his breaths came shallow and quick.
In his dreams, the forest came alive again, the sound of claws on earth and growls in the distance. The blue-eyed wolf flashed in the shadows, chasing him, its presence overwhelming and inescapable.
Asher whimpered in his sleep, his body trembling as the nightmare held him captive.