Page 127 of Nocturne

I step into the parking lot, my heels clicking against the cobblestones as I make my way toward the white van parked at the edge. It’s the one that always delivers my cell samples from the cancer research institute.

But something feels off.

Matt, the delivery guy, is usually waiting for me outside the van with my box. If not, he’s sitting in the driver’s seat, visible through the windshield. Tonight, there’s no sign of him.

“Matt?” I call out, my voice steady but quiet.

Nothing.

“Matt, are you here?”

I try again, my voice wavering slightly as I edge closer. My pulse quickens as I scan the lot. The van sits eerily still, and the shadows feel darker than usual. Even the wind, which usually rustles the leaves at the edge of the forest, is silent.

I stop short of the driver’s side door, hesitating. Something about the van doesn’t feel right. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and an uneasy weight presses down on my chest.

I glance toward the woods, the thought creeping in uninvited. What if Matt went in there?

The idea sends a shiver through me. I shove it away and force myself to take another step forward. I can’t leave without the samples; they’re too important for my research.

But every instinct in me screams to turn around and run. And then I see it.

The box with the samples lies discarded beside the van; its contents spilt across the cold pavement. The sight strikes me immediately—something feels wrong. My heart beats a little faster, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. But before I can even bend to retrieve the box, a rustling sound to my side jerks me out of my thoughts.

My body freezes. My pulse quickens. I whip around, my breath shallow in the cold night air. There, half-hidden in the bushes that grow between the cut fencing separating the university from the forest, I see him.

Matt.

He’s lying face down, motionless at first. His limbs are twisted unnaturally, and my stomach lurches. The bushes shake as ifsomething—someone—had been there, pulling him into them. The sight of him lying so still, his body half-covered in mud and broken branches, fills me with unease.

The forest.

The woods beyond the fence always seem to have a dark pull, even from here. Students speak in hushed tones about things lost in those woods, about people who venture too far in and never return. But I can’t stop myself from looking at Matt, who seems to be the latest victim of whatever that place hides.

What is he doing there? How did he get there? Did he really dare to venture into those woods?

I can’t breathe, but I force myself to take a step forward.

“Matt?” I call his name louder, my voice cracking on the edges of the words.

There’s a groan, low and painful. His body shifts, and his face comes into view. It’s streaked with dirt and leaves, his eyes struggling to open.

“Ara?” His voice is hoarse, confused, as if he’s not entirely sure if he’s still dreaming.

My heart thuds in my chest, and I move toward him, my steps slow but steady, each one louder than the last.

I keep my eyes locked on him, watching as he attempts to push himself up. He groans again, the sound raw with pain, but he can’t seem to get any leverage. His body trembles as he reaches for his leg, and when I see him wince, I know it’s bad.

His right leg is twisted at an impossible angle, and I stop dead in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat. I feel the worldfreeze for a moment, the sharp cold of the air pressing in around me.

“Matt...” My voice comes out softer now, almost a whisper, as if saying his name louder would make it real.

He doesn’t hear me, or maybe he does, but he doesn’t react. His hand shakes as he clutches his broken leg, his face contorting in pain, and I feel a wave of nausea wash over me.

I force myself to move again, faster now, my instincts kicking in. I’m almost there, almost within reach of him. But just as I’m a few feet away, Matt suddenly looks over his shoulder, his eyes wide with panic.

A shiver runs through me, my chest tightening.

What is he looking at?

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