Page 73 of Daddy's Muse
Butter’s ears twitched as we passed a patch of wildflowers near the fence. I crouched down to let her sniff, laughing under my breath when her nose wiggled frantically. “You like those, huh? I’ll pick some for you next time.”
We wandered further, stopping every other step to look at something new. I hummed softly to fill the quiet.
It wasn’t until the grass became thicker, the trees leaning closer overhead, that I realized just how far I’d gone. When I turned to look back, the cabin was still in sight, but smaller now, a good distance away.
That was when I noticed it—the shed.
It loomed a little further in the distance, tucked between two large trees and almost hidden by some big thorny bushes. The faded wood appeared warped with age, but the structure still seemed well-maintained.
There was nothing inherently spooky about it, but maybe I’d seen one too many horror movies, so an old shed in the forest wasn’t super appealing.
Pappa’s voice came back to me then, and I remembered that he’d asked me not to go near the shed because it was dangerous.
I shifted Butter in my arms, my throat dry. “We should go back,” I whispered, already turning halfway toward the house.
And then—
Clink.
The sound was faint, but clear like metal on metal. My breath caught.
I froze, eyes locked on the shed. Butter twitched in my arms, ears pricking, and the tiny movement made my skin crawl.
Another noise followed, muffled this time. A scrape? A shuffle?
I swallowed hard, suddenly hyper aware of how quiet everything else was, like even the birds had gone still.
The horror movies had also taught me that when a forest went completely silent, it was time to get the fuck out of there.
And yet…
“Pappa…?” I whispered before I could stop myself, though I knew he wasn’t there, or at least shouldn’t have been.
My heart hammered against my ribs, torn between running back to the safety of the house and satisfying my curiosity. I held Butter a little tighter to my chest as I padded up to the shed.
The closer I crept, the more wrong everything felt. The shed wasn’t just old wood and shadows anymore—it waswatching me, somehow.
The boards were fitted tightly, but as I circled along the side, I found a narrow crack where the covering over the small window had warped. My pulse thudded so quickly that I was sure it would give me away.
I leaned in, one eye pressed to the gap.
At first, it was just dark, full of shapes I couldn’t make out. My breath fogged the glass, and I almost turned away.
But then, something shifted in the gloom—a person.
I blinked hard, squinting. The dim light from a single hanging bulb revealed… Bryan.
He was handcuffed to a chair, his ankles bound in duct tape, his mouth sealed, the gray strip pressed tight over his lips. Hishair was matted, his shirt was dirty and torn, and his face was battered.
My breath stuttered out in a harsh gasp, fogging the sliver of glass again.Bryan? But he was still in the hospital…
Confusion swamped me, thick and dizzying. I pressed closer, needing to understand, but nothing seemed to make sense. Why would Bryan be here, and why would he be all tied up?
Butter squirmed nervously in my arms.
And then there was movement again.
Not Bryan, but someone else, stepping into view from the side of the shed I couldn’t see.
