Page 35 of Buried Souls
“Catch Me If You Can”
The great doors of the mansion burst open with a thunderous crack. I stumble out into the night, the wind tearing at my long blonde hair, whipping it across my face as I run as if I werepossessed. My blue eyes, wide with terror, catch the brief flash of lightning that splits the night sky, illuminating the eerie façade behind me, the windows like black, watching eyes.
Rain begins to fall, thin at first, then in heavy, slanting sheets. My white dress clings to my legs, dragging through the mud as I sprint toward the forest at the edge of the estate. Every breath is a gasp, a struggle between fear and exhaustion.
Behind me, the doors I fled through groan shut on their own, echoing across the courtyard like the final toll of a bell.
The forest looms ahead—a wall of black trunks and twisted branches clawing at the sky. I don’t hesitate, rushing into it like a blind man.
Anythingis better than what’s inside that house.
The moment I cross beneath the trees, the world changes. The rain barely reaches the forest floor; it’s swallowed by the canopy above. The air is heavy, still, colder than before. Each step on the wet leaves sounds too loud. I can hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, and beneath it, something else.
Footsteps.
Slow. Measured.
Following.
I turn sharply, holding my breath. My eyes scan my surroundings. A beat passes. Then two. And three...
Nothing. Only darkness.
The trees press close, their bark glistening like damp skin. I take another step back, frame trembling—
Whispers slither between the trunks. Shadows crawl across the forest floor. A branch snaps somewhere to my left. My gaze flits back and forth, panic on the edge of hysteria threatening to consume me.
I bolt.
Roots claw at my feet, snagging my dress. Branches lash my arms as I push through the undergrowth. The forest seems toshift around me, paths twisting back upon themselves. Behind me: more footsteps.
“Elena...” comes a voice. Velvet and smoke.
I whimper.
My lungs burn.
My legs ache.
The voice laughs, cruel and sinister, coming from all directions and from nowhere, all at once. “Run, sweet Elena! RUN!” The taunt echoes through me like bones tumbling down a well.
The wind picks up, shrieking through the branches like the wails of the eternally damned. Above me, crows circle, but none cry out. I dart forward again, deeper into the blackened heart of the forest, where no moonlight pierces and the air is thick, oppressing. Something pulses ahead—white alternating with black, faint, flickering.
I hesitate.
Then—that sound again. Not just footsteps.
Breathing. Ragged. Too close.
I stumble over a fallen log and hit the ground hard. Lying in the cold mud, I try to still my breathing. The darkness presses in—total, suffocating. From somewhere in the trees comes a soft, scraping sound. Metal against bark.
“Elena...”
I clamp a hand over my mouth, tears burning my eyes. The voice comes again, closer this time. Circling me like a predator.
A form shrouded in shadows appears in the trees ahead. For a brief moment, relief washes over me and I’m tempted to call out, but the feeling is temporary. My throat goes dry when the shape drifts towards me, and it comes into clear view: a tall, thin silhouette, its limbs too long, its head tilted at an unnaturalangle, weaves between the trunks in a way that marks it clearly as not human.
“Little thief.” That same scraping sound fills the air, making me grimace in pain, and I realize, it’s coming from the thing inching closer to me. “You shouldn’t have returned. You won’t escape me this time.”
