The night had fully settled over the forest by the time they started making their way back. The trees loomed taller in the darkness, their branches stretching like skeletal fingers against the star-dusted sky. The air was colder now, carrying the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves, and every step they took sent a soft crunch through the silence.
Shanane walked beside Eoghan, her arms wrapped tightly around herself to ward off the chill. The weight of their conversation still pressed against her, lingering in her chest like something unfinished.
She had told him more than she had ever told anyone. And somehow, it hadn't felt wrong.
Eoghan didn't speak much as they walked, she didn't mind the silence, like the quiet that comes after a storm, when the air is still thick with the memory of something powerful.
The village was still far off, but she could already feel the unease creeping back in.
The whispers. The stares. The people who thought she should have never come back.
A part of her wanted to ask Eoghan to take the long way back, to keep walking through the trees until they reached somewhere that didn't feel like it was suffocating her. But she couldn't hide forever.
__Shanane: "The village will notice you brought me out." she said after a while, her voice quiet but steady.
Te blonde man didn't look at her, but she caught the small smirk that flickered across his face.
_Eoghan: "Let them notice."
She raised an eyebrow.
_Shanane: "They'll talk."
_Eoghan: "They already do."
__Shanane: "That doesn't bother you?" she huffed a small, humorless laugh.
_Eoghan: "I don't care what they think of me." shrugged, his green eyes focused ahead.
The young black woman watched him for a moment, searching for any sign that he was lying. But he wasn't. He truly didn't care. And she envied that.
The trees eventually thinned out, giving way to the outskirts of the village. The small, crooked houses stood silently in the moonlight, their darkened windows like hollow eyes watching them return. The scent of burning wood drifted through the air, a reminder that people were inside, warm and safe in their homes.
Homes that had never felt like home to her.
The huntsman walked her all the way to the cottage, stopping just outside the worn wooden steps. Shanane hesitated at the door, turning back to him.
__Shanane: "Thank you" she said after a moment.
He nodded, leaning against one of the wooden posts.
__Eoghan: "Get some sleep."
She nodded even though she was sure, she won't be able to sleep tonight either. She swallowed hard, the unease curling tighter in her chest.
Eoghan was still standing there, his green eyes unreadable, the moonlight casting sharp shadows across his face.
For a brief moment, she considered asking him to stay as she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts, to face those horrible nightmares again.
But she didn't. Instead, she gave him a small nod.
__Shanane: "Goodnight, Eoghan."
__Eoghan: "Goodnight, Shanane." he dipped his head slightly.
And with that, she closed the door, sealing herself back inside the quiet, suffocating darkness.
Eoghan remained outside for a moment, staring at the closed door before finally turning and walking away, disappearing into the night.
The door shut behind her with a soft but final click.
She stood in the dimly lit cottage, her breath slow, controlled. Too controlled. She waited, listening, half-expecting the room to feel different now that she had returned.
But it was the same, the same walls, the same lingering scent of dried herbs and old wood, the same unsettling stillness.
She turned, her gaze sweeping over the small space, her eyes instinctively darting to the dark corners where the candlelight didn't reach.
Nothing was there. Not that she could see. But the feeling, the horrible, suffocating certainty that something was watching was as present as ever.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the matches. She struck one, the small flame flickering against the cold air, and lit another candle, then another, filling the room with a faint, golden glow.
It didn't help. The shadows still clung to the edges of the walls, stretching unnaturally, shifting as if something was curled within them, waiting. Waiting for her to let her guard down.
She let out a slow, unsteady breath, rubbing her hands against her arms.
"It's just in your head. You're tired." she muttered to herself.
She moved toward the fireplace, crouching to stir the embers back to life. The warmth helped a little, but it did nothing to chase away the weight pressing against her skin.
As she sat there, staring into the flickering flames, her thoughts drifted back to Eoghan.
He had walked her home, stayed until she was inside. And even now, she had the feeling that if she opened the door, he wouldn't be far. The thought was strangely comforting. Because for the first time since returning, she didn't feel entirely abandoned.
But as the minutes passed and the fire crackled softly, the exhaustion of the day settled into her bones. Her body ached from the tension she had been carrying, and her eyelids grew heavy.
She needed sleep. But sleep meant dreaming. And dreaming meant returning to "the room" filled those scary creatures.
She swallowed hard, glancing at the candles as if their weak flames could keep the nightmares at bay. They wouldn't. But she couldn't avoid it forever.
With a reluctant sigh, she pushed herself up and made her way toward the bedroom. The small space felt colder than before, the air heavier, but she ignored it. She lay down, pulling the blanket over herself, staring at the ceiling as she tried to slow her breathing.
Darkness pulled her under before she could resist. And this time, the shadow was already waiting.
________________________________________
∆☆ ATHERAMOND ☆∆
________________________________________
A cold wind stirred through the trees, rattling the twisted branches above like skeletal fingers scraping against the sky. The sound was hollow, eerie, a ghostly whisper that moved through the leaves as if the forest itself was exhaling.
Shanane woke with a start.
Her breath came sharp and uneven, her chest rising and falling too quickly, her pulse, a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
Something was wrong.
Before she could even gather her thoughts, an unbearable sense of displacement settled over her, heavy and suffocating.
This wasn't her bed. This wasn't the cottage.
The wooden walls of her grandmother's home, the faint glow of the fire, the flickering candlelight, the scratch of branches against the window were gone.
Instead, she stood barefoot on damp earth, her skin prickling from the sharp bite of the night air. Around her, a dense, endless forest stretched into the horizon, the trees towering impossibly high, their gnarled branches curling inward, twisting into grotesque, unnatural shapes. Some arched together overhead, forming a suffocating canopy, blocking out all but the smallest slivers of sky.
But even the sky was wrong.
There were no stars. No soft silver glow of the familiar night.
There was only the moon. And it was red. A deep, bleeding wound carved into the heavens, pulsing faintly, as though it were alive. Its crimson light washed over the landscape, turning everything into distorted shades of black and blood. The reflection of it gleamed in her wide eyes, in the moisture clinging to the leaves, in the still puddles of water pooled between the tangled roots beneath her feet.
It was unnatural. It was impossible. Yet it was here.
A slow, creeping dread slithered up her spine as she took in the scene, her breath shallow, her mind trying to understand.
The air was thick, heavy with the scent of damp moss, decaying wood, and something else, something metallic.
Blood!
It coated the air, clung to her skin like unseen fingers, filling her nose with its unmistakable scent. She swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears.
"This isn't real."
The thought came fast, desperate, clawing at her rationality. But everything felt too real.
The cold beneath her bare feet. The sharp wind against her skin. The distant rustling of leaves, not from the breeze, but from something else.
Something moving.bShe took a slow, unsteady breath, her throat tightening.
And then, she heard it. It was a voice: soft and feminine that was calling her.
???: "Shanane..."
Her entire body locked in place.
The sound was distant, yet too close. A whisper that didn't belong to the wind, a voice that slithered through the trees, curling through the darkness like smoke.
It didn't belong here. It didn't belong anywhere. She swallowed against the rising panic, her fingers curling against her sides.
__Shanane: "Who's there?"
There was no response. The forest held its breath.
Then, she heard a rustling sound. It was low, faint, almost imperceptible.
Her breath hitched, her heart slamming against her ribs.
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the voice came again, closer this time.
???: "Come to me, Shanane."
Her stomach twisted. It wasn't a question. It wasn't a plea. It was a command.
The rustling grew louder. The trees groaned as if something was weaving between them, unseen but undeniably there. The air seemed to thicken, pressing against her skin, curling into her lungs like smoke, heavy and suffocating.
The red light of the moon pulsed faintly, as though the very sky had heard the voice and was waiting. Waiting for her to answer.
Her breathing turned shallow.
Every fiber of her being told her to run, to turn back, to resist.
But something about the voice, the way it wrapped around her name like it belonged to her, like it had always known her made her feet move.
Slowly, she started walking in the direction of the voice.
Each movement felt wrong, like she wasn't in control, like something unseen had wrapped invisible strings around her limbs and was pulling her forward.
She wasn't running. She wasn't even thinking. She was simply following.
The trees loomed taller, their shapes shifting in the crimson glow, bending inward as if closing behind her, sealing off her escape. The rustling ahead grew louder, accompanied by something else, a faint hum, almost like a chant, barely audible beneath the wind.
She swallowed hard, the chill in her bones deepening.
And yet, she didn't stop. She couldn't. Even as something deep inside her whispered that she was stepping into something she could never come back from.
Even as the voice called again, sweet and coaxing, guiding her deeper into the unknown.
???: "Come, child. You have been wandering too long."
A shudder crawled down her spine. Because this time the voice was closer.
Shanane's heartbeat pounded against her ribs, a frantic, unsteady rhythm that matched the pulse of the crimson moon above. The deeper she walked into the forest, the more she felt like she was stepping out of time itself.
The trees loomed impossibly high, their gnarled branches curling into twisted patterns against the bleeding sky. The air was thick, dense with something unseen, something that coiled around her skin like unseen fingers, brushing against the nape of her neck, whispering along her spine.
She felt like she was being watched. Not by one thing, but by many.
The thought sent a violent shudder down her back, but she still didn't stop. She couldn't.
???: "Come, child..."
The voice drifted through the trees again, its tone as sweet as honey yet carrying something that made her skin crawl. It wasn't comforting. It wasn't warm. It was scary, evil.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to move slower, to fight against the unnatural pull dragging her forward. Her feet still obeyed some unseen command, but her mind screamed at her to resist.
__Shanane: "Who are you?" she called, her voice hoarse, barely more than a breath against the wind.
The trees groaned as though they were listening. The air shifted and then she heard a laugh.
Soft. Almost affectionate.
Almost!
???: "You will know soon."
A sharp chill stabbed through Shanane's chest.
The rustling ahead grew louder, the underbrush parting as if something unseen was making way for her, clearing a path deeper into the woods.
She could turn back now. But when she glanced over her shoulder, there was nothing behind her. The path she had taken was gone.
Her stomach twisted violently. The trees stood in an unbroken wall of bark and shadow, sealing her in, their branches tangled so thickly that not even the bloodied light of the moon could seep through. She was trapped.
A slow, creeping horror slithered into her veins.
She turned back toward the voice, toward the only way forward.
And then, for the first time, she saw it.
A faint, flickering glow in the distance, hidden beyond the veil of trees. A deep, pulsing red. Not from the moon, but from something else. Something waiting for her.
???: "Come, child."
The whisper curled around her like a serpent, sinking its unseen fangs into her thoughts.
???: "You have wandered too long. Come home."
Shanane's breath caught in her throat. Because for the briefest, most horrifying moment, she wanted to obey.