Lila Carter stood on the sagging porch of her little house in Gorse Hollow, the night air cool against her skin. It was past midnight, and the town was dead quiet, the kind of stillness that made your ears ring. She wore a thin tank top and shorts, her brown hair loose, brushing her shoulders as she stared at the sky. The stars twinkled like always, but something felt wrong—heavy, like a storm was brewing without clouds.
Then she saw it. A green light streaked across the darkness, fast and strange. It wasn't a plane or a shooting star—it pulsed, alive, glowing brighter with every beat. Lila's heart jumped. "Jake!" she called, turning toward the open door. "Get out here!"
Footsteps shuffled inside, and Jake Hensley stumbled out, shirtless, his dark hair a mess from sleep. He grinned, that lazy, lopsided smile that always melted her, even after two years. "What's up, babe?" he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His chest pressed warm against her back, his breath tickling her neck. She pointed upward. "Look at that. It's… freaky."
Jake squinted, his hands resting on her hips. The light was gone. He chuckled, lips brushing her ear. "You're imagining things. Come back to bed." His voice was husky, teasing, and for a second, she almost gave in. But she shoved him playfully. "I'm serious, jerk. It was real."
He laughed again, but before he could pull her inside, the light flared once more—brighter, closer, washing the yard in green. Jake froze, his hands tightening on her. "What the hell…?" he muttered. A low hum vibrated through the ground, shaking the porch boards. The air crackled, electric, lifting the hairs on Lila's arms.
Jake pushed her back toward the door. "Stay here," he said, sharp and sober now. She grabbed his arm. "No way—don't!" But he shook her off, bolting into the yard, bare feet slapping the dirt. "Jake!" she screamed, lunging after him.
The light pulsed, blinding her. She shielded her eyes, and then it swallowed him. One moment, he was there, reaching toward the trees; the next, he was gone. The hum cut off. The glow vanished. Silence slammed down, heavy and wrong.
"Jake?" Lila's voice broke as she stumbled forward. The yard was empty—no footprints, no trace. Just his phone, lying in the grass, screen cracked but glowing. She snatched it up, hands trembling. "Jake!" she yelled, spinning around. The forest loomed beyond the yard, dark and thick, branches swaying like fingers. A shadow moved—tall, thin, not human. It glided between the trees, and her stomach dropped.
She backed up, clutching the phone. Her mind raced. Jake couldn't be gone. Not him—her Jake, the guy who'd kissed her under the bleachers at sixteen, who'd held her when her dad's heart gave out. They'd planned to ditch this nowhere town, start fresh. Tears burned her eyes as she dialed 911, but static hissed through the speaker. No signal.
The porch light flickered. She froze, glancing up. Another hum, faint and eerie, pulsed from the woods. Whatever took him was still out there. Her chest tightened, but she wiped her face and steeled herself. "I'm coming for you," she whispered, voice raw. "I swear."
Inside, she grabbed a flash light and Jake's old baseball bat from the closet. Her hands shook as she locked the door, though she knew it was useless against… whatever that was. She wasn't tough—small, stubborn, more heart than muscle—but she'd fight for him. She stepped back into the yard, bat in hand, and headed for the trees.
The forest swallowed her, fog curling around her legs. The flash light beam jittered over roots and leaves, barely cutting through the murk. "Jake!" she called, her voice echoing back, lonely and small. The trees pressed in, their shadows twisting. She gripped the bat tighter, imagining that shadow again—too tall, too thin, moving like liquid.
A branch snapped behind her. She whirled, swinging the bat. "Who's there?" she shouted. The light caught yellow eyes—a deer, bolting into the dark. She sagged, heart pounding. "Calm down," she muttered, pressing on.
Minutes later, she found it: a patch of scorched earth near a gnarled oak, black and cracked like lightning had struck. In the Center lay a shred of Jake's plaid shirt, singed and torn. Lila dropped to her knees, clutching it. "No…" Her voice cracked. He'd been here. Something had happened.
A rustle came from the bushes. She shot up, bat raised. "Show yourself!" A figure stepped out—not the shadow, but a man, tall and broad, hands raised. "Whoa, easy!" he said. "It's me."
Lila blinked, lowering the bat a fraction. Ethan Blake—Gorse Hollow's mechanic. Dark hair, sharp jaw, jeans stained with grease. He'd fixed her car last month, quiet but sweet. "What are you doing here?" she snapped, voice shaky.
"Heard you yelling," he said, stepping closer. His hazel eyes flicked to the shirt. "Jake's gone?" His voice softened, and it stung—too gentle, too knowing.
"Yeah," she said, swallowing hard. "Something took him. I saw… something." She pointed at the scorch mark. "Look."
Ethan crouched, running a hand over the dirt. "This ain't normal," he muttered. "Too clean for fire." He stood, meeting her gaze. "You shouldn't be alone out here."
"I'm not leaving him," she said, chin up. Ethan nodded. "Then I'm with you. No arguing." His tone was firm, and she didn't fight it. She nodded, and they moved deeper into the woods.
They hadn't gone far when headlights sliced through the fog. A truck roared up, and Maya Torres leapt out, her curly hair wild. "Lila! What the hell?" she yelled, rushing over. Maya was her best friend—loud, fierce, always ready to throw a punch. "I saw your lights on, freaked out. Sheriff's coming."
Lila groaned. "I don't need Reed." Sheriff Tom Reed was a jerk, all rules and no heart. But Maya grabbed her shoulders. "Talk to me."
Lila spilled it—the light, Jake vanishing, the shadow. Ethan added the scorch mark. Maya's eyes narrowed. "Like the old stories. Lights. People gone. My cousin disappeared last year after seeing that crap."
Lila's gut twisted. "You think it's the same?"
Before Maya could answer, red and blue lights flashed. Reed's cruiser rolled up, and he climbed out, glaring. "What's this, Carter?" he barked. "You drunk?"
"Jake's missing," Lila said, steady now. "Something took him. Right there." She pointed. Reed shone his flash light over the mark, frowning. "Looks like kids messing around. Sure he didn't run off?"
Lila's fists clenched. "He wouldn't." Reed grunted, unconvinced, but radioed his deputy. "Cole, get here. We got something."
As they waited, Ethan stayed close, his arm brushing hers. "We'll find him," he said, low and sure. She nodded, but fear gnawed at her. What if Jake was—
A scream ripped through the trees, sharp and terrified. Lila spun toward it, heart racing. "What was that?" Maya whispered. Reed drew his gun, barking, "Stay back!" But Lila was already moving, Ethan and Maya behind her.
They burst into a clearing. A woman lay sprawled in the dirt, shirt torn, arms scratched bloody. She was alive, moaning. "They… took me…" she rasped, eyes wild. Lila knelt, stomach lurching. "Who?"
The woman grabbed her, nails digging in. "Tall… cold… not human. Said they needed us… our bodies…" She shuddered, pointing at the sky. "Up there."
Lila's blood ran cold. Ethan pulled her back as Reed shouted into his radio. The woman's words echoed—needed us, our bodies. What the hell was happening in Gorse Hollow?