2 comments

Fiction Suspense

The clock struck midnight, so naturally, Jonathan was out in the woods. He passed the lake, which at this hour, was a shard of black glass lying on the forest floor. It was completely even, its peace undisturbed. Tonight had been a calm night so far, so probably the lake would be granted another few hours of rest, before animals and fishermen and hikers would wake it in the early morning. Jonathan reached a clearing, which marked the end of his round. “All clear and peaceful in sector B. Over” he informed his colleague Millie. A moment later, he had her reply. “Great, sector A is clear too. Over”. Jonathan nodded to himself and made his way back to a small wooden house bearing the sign “Mount Ash National Park, Ranger’s station B”. Inside, he controlled whether all the wildlife cameras were projected on his screen and the lens was not blocked by anything. On one screen, he made out a deer carefully stalking around on the clearing. “Alright” he yawned and then told the deer, “If you’re awake, you can take over the watch for now.” He made himself comfortable on the sofa, planning to make the most out of the next two hours, until he had to run another round of checks.


While Jonathan was fast asleep, the deer was running for its’ life. After it had left the clearing, it had gone wandering into the darker areas of the forest. And then it had heard it: an intruder. Something that did not live here, did not belong here. As it felt the unknown presence coming nearer, it fled. The paths in this forest were its’ home, and it ran fast, so it surely must be safe, right? It took a turn to the left and – the last thing the deer saw was the glinting of very sharp teeth in the moonlight. Later, the intruder dragged it over the border of sector A. Not that the deer could have recounted this to the ranger that would later find it, nor did it understand such man-made concepts as sectors. But it is debatable if any of this was important, as a more urgent problem presented itself anyway; the deer was already dead.


As the deer took its’ final breath, Jonathan also took a very deep, very loud one. He was snoring. He continued to do so, until a sharp beeping woke him up at 1.37 am. Against all codes of correct communication, he mumbled a “Mhh…wha-?”, interrupted with by a yawn, into his walkie-talkie. “Here Millie. Dead deer in sector A, roughly position three. I Need your help. Over”. Jonathan muttered a small curse, because this was the second time something like this happened during his night shift this month, and if it was like last time, it would be gross and sad and all in all very confusing. They had not been able to match the bitemarks to any animal registered in the national park then. When he got to reach the deer, Millie was waiting for him a few metres off, looking even paler than usual. “Hi. Sorry. It looks terrible. I really can’t look at all this blood, it makes my skin crawl.” she greeted him. She was right, it did look terrible. Whatever attacked this deer, it did not bite it gently. Blood was everywhere on the ground. “I wonder what kind of animal did this… it looks similar to the last deer we found, don’t you think?” he murmured. Millie made a noise of agreement. “I honestly don’t believe a fox did this, as the chief tried to tell us.” She sighed. “But of course he says that, and will again. We don’t need bad publicity.”


Jonathan gave her a grim nod. “Right. Let’s get it near the next station so the vet can have a look at it first thing in the morning”. They picked it up by its’ legs and carried it towards ranger station A, where they covered it, as to not attract any other animals. All the while, Millie was careful as to not touch the animal too much, so it was Jonathan who ended up with bloody hands.

“Well, I’ll wash this of real quick and then I’ll get back to my station. See you in the morning when we report to the chief.” Millie gave him a tired salute, “Sure Jonny. Later”. It was almost 3 am now. Back inside the ranger station, Jonathan tried to get a bit of sleep before his last control round was due. Without much success, as would be noted later also by the chief.


“Good morning. You look rough Jonathan, have another cup of coffee!” He sat down at their table to listen to their report, and thereby effectively keeping Jonathan from getting said cup of coffee. He took off his sunglasses. “Morning, Mildred” he nodded at Millie. She nodded back, “Morning, chief.” She left her sunglasses on. Jonathan was always a bit taken aback by hearing her actual name. Her parents must have had a fable for the Victorian age, giving their poor daughter such an old-fashioned name. If he were her, he would also go by a nickname.


The chief sighed. “Thank you for carrying the deer back. I looked at it together with the vet, and we presume it was a fox, like last time. An admittedly brutal fox, I’ll say.” Jonathan caught Millie’s eyes, or rather, the reflection of his own in her sunglasses. The chief’s words probably meant: the vet was clueless, and the chief was trying to avoid a scandal. “Did the cameras catch anything?” Jonathan asked. The chief massaged his temples. “It was roughly at the same place as last week. The view is quite bad there, it’s hard to make anything out” he sighed, “as if the attacker had known that…”


It is later in the afternoon, when Robert Greene arrives at the parking lot of Mount Ash National Park. He makes his way over to the reception and breathes in the crisp, clear air. It has been a long time since he got more than a few hours of relaxation for himself, let alone out of his hometown. He is motivated to make the most of it. Worried, he is not. Of course he isn’t, he doesn’t know that there is something dangerous wandering around. It hasn’t reached the news. “Have a good hike, sir. And remember to be back at 9pm at the latest.” The young ranger at the registration tells him, as she hands him a map. She is exceptionally pretty, and she reminds him a little of his late wife, so he leaves her a tip after paying for his ticket. “Don’t worry dear, my old bones won’t let me stay out that long anyway” he winks at her.

Before he sets off, however, he gets out his phone and makes a call. While he waits for his daughter to pick up, he stores away the map he received. He does not notice he did it very poorly. “Hi Dad! Make it quick, I’m at the lake right now!” his 11-year old daughter Lisa greets him, with way too much energy. “Sure, I won’t be holding you up” Robert Greene laughs, “Just wanted to tell you I’m gonna be hiking for the next few hours. Probably won’t be able to use my phone in the forest either. I’ll call you in the evening, pet” he tells her. “Alright, talk to you later then! I gotta go now, I have to finish my ice cream and- A WASP!! GRANDM-“ the call ends. Robert Greene shakes his head with a smile. He’s glad that Lisa is having fun at her grandparents. He looks forward to her rambling, overjoyed report of her day he will receive in the evening. What he doesn’t know yet is that he will not call her. She will call him, multiple times, but he will not pick up. He will be lying face-down in the forest.


A few hours before this happens, but while Robert Greene is already cluelessly wandering around, the chief is getting ready to close up the park for the day. It is almost 9 pm, and almost everyone has already left. Only a blue Fiat, standing in the parking lot without any other car to keep it company, is worrying him. He does the only thing he can, he waits. 9 pm comes and goes, and so does 9.30 pm. At 10 pm, he alerts the rangers preparing for today’s night shift to look for a missing hiker. A man in his late 40s, called Robert Greene.


Said man is now in sector A, quite a far way off the trail he chose for his hike. Not that he knows where he is anymore. He lost his map. In the dark, he tries to make out any signs that would lead him to shelter. In the same sector, not that far off, but too far for them to meet, Millie is fixing a wildlife camera. On the monitor, she had seen that it was partly blocked by a few branches, so she went out to move them out of the way. While she’s tying them together with a string, her stomach growls. She is so hungry. Unbelievably hungry. She feels as if she hadn’t eaten since last night. She is about to finish up her work, when she hears a twig snap. She whirls around and sees a deer. It looks at her, frightened. It looks like the poor deer she came across yesterday. Slowly, she gets up and stretches out a hand. Almost close enough to touch, she smiles and – the deer runs away. She turns around, making her way back, planning on finding something to eat.


Not far off, not much later, Robert Greene hears something too. He would not describe himself as a man who is easily scared, much less, who buys into supernatural things. But now, he feels as if he is being watched. As if he is in danger. He tries using his phone screen as a flashlight, but he can barely make out the next tree in the soft glow emitted by the device. The only information he gains this way is that it's almost 3 am now. He decides to get a move on, but he can’t shake the feeling that he is not alone. And a few moments later, his suspicion will be proven to be true. He hears a noise, something like a hoarse breath, something like a growl. He spins around and he is sure: a few metres off, there is something. And it’s moving towards him. He starts running, but the thing is faster. In his haste, he trips over something on the ground. With his heart beating in overtime, he looks up at the something. No. The Someone. The contour of this being is so human, so undeniably human, it relieves and frightens him simultaneously.

“I don’t know who you are” he starts, out of breath, “but” he coughs, “I… my daughter… please let me go” he begs. The person is not moving. “I have to get back”, he exhales shakily, “please. I’m harmless”. Still no move from the person. Robert Greene starts to think he might be hallucinating. He has been out in the woods for a very long time now. He begins to repeat his plea for one more time, but he is interrupted, as the person finally moves. The last thing he sees is the glinting of something sharp – a knife? – before his vison goes black.


Jonathan looks at the piece of paper he found. A map of the national park. Did someone simply litter or did the missing hiker lose it? It might explain why he didn’t come back. In the back of his mind, Jonathan is mocking himself, for clinging to any explanation he can find. But he simply doesn’t want to think about the possibility that the strange attacker found the man. The “fox” that got the two deer. Jonathan has been looking for the man for about two hours now, he is tired, but he is scared for the man’s wellbeing. He doesn’t believe in stories of monsters wandering around in the woods, but he has seen the two dead deer with his own eyes. It probably wasn’t a monster, but it sure is dangerous.

He walks towards the lake, and there he sees him: a man, lying prostrate up on the ground. Jonathan starts towards him and kneels down next to him. “Sir” he gently shakes the man “Sir can you hear me?”. He checks his pulse. Faint, but definitely there. He turns the man’s head a bit to get a better look at his neck. No blood, as far as he can see. Jonathan closes his eyes for a moment and thanks whatever God might be watching over them right now. “Sir?” he tries again. No response. “Here Jonathan. Found the man. Not injured, as far as I can tell. Meet me at the station. Over” he tells Millie. Then he gathers all his strength and picks the man up. Slowly, at an almost glacial pace, he makes his way back to the station. There, Millie is waiting for him with a first aid kit. She looks as if she’d been asleep shortly before she got here, her pupils are diluted. But it turns out, they don’t need it. The man is fine, just unconscious. They eventually manage to wake him up. He can’t remember what happened. Jonathan exchanges a confused glance with Millie. They decide to let the man rest.


“So, you are Jonathan Clover, the ranger who rescued Mr. Greene, correct?” a reporter asks, with a glance at his notepad. “Yes, that’s me” Jonathan confirms, “but my colleague Millie was a big help too. I couldn’t have taken care of him without her.” Millie is standing a bit off. “No Jonny, you found him, and you carried him back” she quips up, “you are the real hero here.” The reporter nods. “Credit where credit is due, right?” he hums. So, Jonathan is subjected to a photoshoot with Mr. Greene alone, the pictures of which, he is told, will end up on the front page of the local newspaper. He can see the headline in front of him. Brave ranger rescues single father lost in national park. Despite him trying to stay humble, he does feel a bit like a hero.

The reporter decides to give the national park a bigger piece in the next issue of the newspaper, which makes the chief’s eyes gleam. This it the kind of news coverage they need. No mention of strange animal attacks anywhere. Smiling proudly, with his hands on his belt, he poses for his picture. The photographer moves on to take a picture of Millie in front of the ranger’s station. She gives him a big, toothy smile. With that, he wraps up shooting pictures of the rangers.


Later, when he selects the best photos for the article, he looks for the picture he took of a certain Mildred Crenshaw, which he remembers to have turned out quite nice. But when he looks for it, he can’t seem to find it anymore. All he has on his camera is a picture of the ranger’s resort. He could’ve sworn that this is where he took a picture of the ranger. But all the picture shows is the side of the building. Apart from that, it’s empty. 

April 27, 2023 13:13

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

2 comments

Susan Catucci
20:23 May 04, 2023

Ah, I would say there's a touch of horror clinging to the edges of this tale, Cora. I love a good scary story and, if I were to advise you at all, I would recommend two things to make your story a smoother read. Your paragraphs are quite large and contain a lot of information, so it's easy to get lost and possibly lose some of the significance of some passages. I'd suggest your break them into smaller bites, easier to follow. I'd also suggest read, read and re-read your story so the reader isn't tripped up by a misspelling or a small ty...

Reply

13:15 May 07, 2023

Thank you so much for reading AND leaving such a helpful comment, greatly appreciate it!! :)

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
RBE | Illustration — We made a writing app for you | 2023-02

We made a writing app for you

Yes, you! Write. Format. Export for ebook and print. 100% free, always.