I originally worked on this story as a project for the Creative Writing club, and even though it is somewhat different from what I am used to writing, I plan on continuing to work on it in the future.

The trail ahead of them continued further and further off into the woods, until the path eventually dissolved into the thick underbrush, overgrown by weeds and saplings pushing through the gravel. Almost as if nature itself didn’t want the trail to be found. Night was approaching, and the sky became darker and darker. Soon enough, the last light of the sun would vanish and they would be forced to walk through the pitch black darkness. Alone.

But they couldn’t stop now. Not when they’re so close to the end.

Julia had thought that the stories were nonsense, just tales that folks like her grandmother would tell little kids. But eventually, she began to wonder if there was any truth to them. She couldn’t tell what drew her to the stories. Curiosity? Desperation? Greed? Some mix of them all? It didn’t matter. All she knew was that she would find the money even if it killed her. God forbid.

Mark rummaged through his bag as he walked, searching for the flashlight. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

“Yeah.” Julia replied, eyes still fixed on what was left of the road ahead. “I think we’re close.”

“We better be, it’s getting late. People are gonna wonder where we are.”

“Don’t worry, as far as everybody else knows we’re just spending the night at a friend’s place.”

Mark didn’t respond. He froze dead in his tracks. Julia couldn’t hear his footsteps. She turned around to see him with a look of fear plastered on his face. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

“What’s-”

“Shh!”

Mark’s eyes darted around the area. He turned around, careful not to make too much noise. “I heard something.” They were silent for what felt like an eternity before Julia finally realized what had made him stop. They turned their heads toward a spot deeper in the woods.

In the bushes, the crickets had stopped chirping and the world seemed to stop with them. The only sounds left were the rustle of leaves and the vague crack of twigs under heavy footsteps. Something- or someone- was following them. And they were close.