[Chr24] Stalking in the Woods || The Return to the Woods

The Return to the Woods

A week had passed since their harrowing encounter in the woods, and the four friends couldn’t stop talking about it. Every conversation eventually circled back to the shadowy figure, the claw marks, and the growls that had haunted them. For Jean, the memory was vivid, a mix of fear and curiosity that gnawed at him.

“Why are we even talking about this?” Zane asked one evening as they gathered in Jean’s living room. The glow of Christmas lights softened the edges of their tense expressions. “We got away. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Because,” Chance said, leaning forward, “we didn’t get any answers. Don’t you want to know what it was? I mean, come on—it could have been a bear. Or a wolf. Or…something else.”

“Something else?” Rowan said, his voice tinged with disbelief. He hadn’t touched his hot cocoa, the marshmallows melting into a sticky foam. “What are you suggesting? A ghost? A monster?”

Jean stared at the fire crackling in the hearth. He had been quiet during the discussion, but Chance’s words had struck a chord. He did want to know what they had seen. It wasn’t just fear that lingered in his mind—it was the mystery of it.

“I think we should go back,” Jean said finally, breaking the silence.

Rowan’s head snapped up. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all,” Jean replied. “I can’t stop thinking about it. What if we imagined it? Or what if there’s a rational explanation?”

“What if it kills us this time?” Zane countered. “Not worth it.”

Chance grinned, his excitement infectious. “Come on, Zane. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it in the woods with my sanity.”

But by the end of the night, Chance and Jean had convinced the others to go back. Armed with flashlights, a larger saw, and a vague sense of determination, the four of them set out the next evening.

The woods looked different at night. Shadows stretched long and deep, the pale light of the moon filtering through the bare branches. Their breath misted in the cold air, and every crunch of snow underfoot seemed deafening in the silence.

“I hate this already,” Rowan muttered, clutching his flashlight tightly. “Why are we doing this at night?”

“Because if it’s still out here, we have a better chance of seeing it now,” Chance said, his voice calm but charged with excitement.

“Brilliant plan,” Zane said sarcastically. “Let’s find the monster when it’s probably most active.”

Jean led the group, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to focus on the path, but the eerie stillness of the woods made it hard to concentrate. His flashlight beam danced over the trees, illuminating patches of snow and bare branches.

“Here’s the clearing,” Jean said quietly as they arrived. The perfect spruce stood tall and majestic, just as they had left it. The claw marks on the trunk were still visible, stark against the pale bark.

“Now what?” Rowan asked, his voice tight.

“Now we wait,” Chance said, planting himself near the tree. He swung the flashlight around dramatically, scanning the shadows. “Whatever it was, it’ll come back.”

“I hate this plan,” Zane muttered, shivering as he adjusted his scarf. “This is how every horror movie starts.”

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The cold seeped into their bones, and Rowan kept glancing nervously over his shoulder. Jean began to wonder if they’d made a mistake. Maybe whatever had been out here was long gone.

And then it happened.

A low, guttural growl echoed through the clearing, sending chills down their spines. The four of them froze, their flashlights jerking toward the sound. The growl came again, closer this time.

“There!” Jean whispered, pointing to the edge of the clearing.

The shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, taller and broader than Jean had remembered. Its shape was vaguely humanoid but distorted, its limbs too long, its head too large. Its glowing eyes reflected the beam of their flashlights, fixing on the group with an almost sentient intensity.

“Oh my God,” Rowan whispered, his voice trembling.

“Run,” Zane said, but no one moved.

The creature stepped closer, its heavy footsteps crunching through the snow. It let out a snort, its breath visible in the cold air. Jean’s heart hammered in his chest, but he forced himself to stay still, gripping the flashlight like a lifeline.

“Don’t run,” Jean said, his voice barely audible. “It didn’t chase us last time until we moved. Just…stay calm.”

“Stay calm?” Rowan hissed. “It’s staring at us like we’re dinner!”

The creature stopped a few feet away, its massive frame illuminated in the glow of their flashlights. Jean could see it more clearly now: thick fur covered its body, and its claws were sharp and black. But its face…its face was almost human, with deep-set eyes and a mouth that twitched as if it wanted to speak.

“What do we do?” Chance whispered, his bravado gone.

Jean swallowed hard, his mind racing. He remembered something he’d read once about predators. “Look big,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. “Make noise. Show it we’re not afraid.”

“Not afraid?” Zane hissed. “I’m terrified!”

“Just do it!”

The four of them began to yell, their voices cutting through the stillness of the night. They waved their flashlights, the beams creating erratic patterns in the darkness. The creature hesitated, its head tilting as if confused.

And then, to their shock, it stepped back. Slowly, it retreated into the shadows, its glowing eyes lingering on them until it disappeared into the trees.

Silence fell over the clearing.

“Is it…gone?” Rowan asked, his voice shaky.

“For now,” Jean said, his legs threatening to give out beneath him.

“Can we go now?” Zane asked, his face pale. “Please?”

Jean nodded. They didn’t stop to debate. Grabbing their gear, they hurried back through the woods, the memory of the creature burned into their minds.

Back at the car, they sat in stunned silence, the heater blasting as they tried to process what had happened.

“What was that?” Rowan asked, breaking the quiet.

“I don’t know,” Jean admitted. “But it wasn’t just an animal.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone about this,” Zane said. “No one would believe us anyway.”

“I don’t care if they believe us,” Chance said, his voice subdued. “I just hope we never see it again.”

Jean stared out the window, his breath fogging the glass. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t over. Whatever was in those woods, it hadn’t shown them everything.

And he wasn’t sure if he was more terrified—or curious—about what might come next.