Shadows in the Pines

The smell of damp earth and pine lingered in the air as Gina trudged through the woods, her boots crunching against a trail hidden under layers of autumn leaves. She tugged her scarf tighter around her neck. The sun had dipped below the horizon an hour ago, and the fading light painted the forest in hues of deep purple and black.

She’d taken this path countless times before, usually during the day, when the woods felt like an extension of her small cottage on the edge of town. Tonight, however, she was out later than planned, thanks to a stubborn flat tire and a roadside assistance guy who seemed to move slower than molasses. By the time she got home, she decided to walk off the day’s frustrations with a quick hike. Now, though, the forest seemed unfamiliar — its shadows deeper, its sounds sharper.

A sudden crackle of twigs behind her made her freeze.

“Hello?” she called, her voice echoing faintly.

Nothing. Just the sound of the wind rattling through the trees. Gina shook her head. It was probably a deer or a raccoon. She scolded herself for letting her imagination run wild and quickened her pace.

But then she heard it again — a deliberate crunch, closer this time. Gina whipped around, her heart thundering.

“Who’s there?”

The forest was silent.

Her breath came quicker now, her fingers tightening around the flashlight she carried. She shone it in a wide arc, but the beam revealed nothing but endless trees.

“Calm down,” she muttered. “It’s just the woods.”

Turning back toward the path, Gina started walking again, this time at a brisker pace. The sound of her own footsteps seemed unnaturally loud. The wind picked up, rustling the trees above her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone.

Suddenly, something darted across the path in front of her. Gina screamed, stumbling backward and dropping her flashlight. She scrambled to pick it up, her hands trembling.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Get a grip. It was probably just a fox.”

But as she raised the flashlight again, the beam landed on something that made her blood run cold.

A man stood a few yards away, half-hidden in the trees. His face was shadowed, but his presence was unmistakable. He didn’t move, didn’t speak — just stood there, watching her.

“I — I’m just passing through,” Gina stammered, backing away. “I don’t want any trouble.”

The man stepped forward, into the light. He was tall, with unkempt dark hair and a face that might have been handsome if it weren’t so gaunt. His clothes were torn and muddy, his eyes hollow.

His gaze darted past her, scanning the woods with an intensity that unsettled her. It wasn’t just fear — it was something else, something primal.

“Wait,” he said, his voice low and rasping. “Please.”

Gina hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to run. But something in his voice — desperation? Pain? — made her pause.

“What do you want?” she asked cautiously.

“I’m lost,” he said. “I’ve been out here for days. I need help.”

Gina frowned. “How did you end up here?”

The man shook his head. “I don’t remember. I just… woke up in the woods. I’ve been trying to find my way out, but it’s like I’m going in circles.”

She studied him for a moment, her fear wrestling with a growing sense of pity. His clothes were indeed filthy, and his face was pale and drawn, as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Alright,” she said finally. “I can help you. My cottage isn’t far. You can get cleaned up and call for help from there.”

“You’re kind,” he said, almost reluctantly. “Most people wouldn’t take the risk.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Kwami,” he replied.

“Gina,” she said.

As Kwami stepped closer, Gina noticed his movements were oddly fluid, almost too smooth for someone who claimed to be exhausted. Her eyes flicked to his hands, and she hesitated. His nails were jagged and unusually long, dirt caked beneath them as if he’d been clawing at something. She shook it off, chalking it up to being lost in the woods for days.

“You look like you’ve been through hell,” she said, trying to suppress her unease.

Kwami managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You could say that.”

They walked in silence for a while, the tension between them palpable. The forest seemed quieter now, the shadows pressing in closer. Gina couldn’t shake the feeling that something about Kwami was… off.

Her flashlight beam caught the faintest glint of something on his arm. She frowned, angling the light. Were those scratches? No — they were too deep, too jagged. They almost looked like claw marks. But before she could get a better look, Kwami shifted his arm, tucking it into his jacket as if he’d felt her gaze.

“Cold tonight,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes.

Gina nodded slowly, filing the strange detail away. The forest around them creaked with the wind, but she could have sworn she heard something else — a low, distant growl.

“So, Kwami, where are you from?”

“I… don’t know,” he said, his voice tight. “But I’ve been running for as long as I can remember.”

Gina stopped in her tracks. “You don’t know? What do you mean?”

Kwami ran a hand through his hair, his expression tortured. “I mean I can’t remember. Everything before waking up in these woods is a blur.”

Gina's unease deepened, but before she could say anything, a noise — a low, guttural growl — echoed through the trees. She froze, her eyes darting toward the sound.

“What was that?” she whispered.

Kwami's face went pale. “We need to move. Now.”

“What? Why? What’s out there?”

“Just trust me,” he said, his voice urgent. “We have to go.”

Gina's pulse raced as she followed him, her flashlight trembling in her hand. The growl came again, closer this time, and she swore she heard something large moving through the underbrush.

They broke into a run. Gina's lungs burned, and her legs ached, but fear propelled her forward. She didn’t dare look back, afraid of what she might see.

Finally, the trees thinned, and the warm glow of her cottage came into view. Gina sprinted toward it, fumbling with her keys as she reached the door. She shoved it open and dragged Kwami inside, slamming the door behind them.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded, her voice shaking.

Kwami didn’t answer. He stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders heaving as he caught his breath.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Expecting what?” Gina snapped. “What’s out there?”

He looked at her, his eyes dark and haunted. “I don’t know how to explain this, but… whatever it is, it’s not human.”

Gina stared at him, her mind racing. “Not human? You’re not making any sense.”

Before Kwami could respond, a loud crash shook the door. Gina screamed, stumbling backward as the wood splintered. Something — massive, shadowy, and distinctly unnatural — rammed against the door again, snarling.

Kwami grabbed a chair and wedged it under the doorknob. “Do you have any weapons?” he asked, his voice sharper, more commanding.

Gina stammered. “W-weapons? No! What’s going on? What is that thing?”

The creature outside let out another deafening roar, and the windows rattled. Kwami froze, his head tilting slightly — too sharply — toward the sound. For a brief moment, his body went still, unnaturally still, like a predator locking onto its prey.

He turned to Gina, his eyes darker than before, almost luminous. “Stay back,” he said, his voice low and edged with something unfamiliar. “I’ll handle this.”

“What? How—” Gina stopped mid-sentence as she saw his hand clutching the chair. His nails had lengthened, curling into claws. She blinked, convinced her eyes were playing tricks on her, but then she noticed his jaw tightening unnaturally, the veins in his neck bulging.

“Kwami… your hands,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He stepped back from her, his posture hunched as though trying to hold something back. “I didn’t want you to see this,” he muttered, his voice rougher, guttural. His shoulders broadened, his shirt tearing slightly as his muscles shifted. His breathing deepened, each exhale sounding more like a growl.

“What are you—” Gina’s voice cracked as his face began to change. His teeth elongated, sharp as daggers, and his glowing eyes locked onto hers, filled with both regret and feral resolve.

“I wasn’t expecting this either,” he rasped, the words barely human. “But now you know.”

Before Gina could respond, he let out a guttural snarl and leapt at the door, ripping it open. His body blurred, half-human, half-something else, as he collided with the creature outside. The sound of claws meeting flesh, snarls, and crashing wood filled the air.

Gina sank to the floor, her flashlight slipping from her trembling hands. Her mind reeled with questions, but one thought pierced through the chaos.

This wasn’t over.