A Walk in the Woods
Off the Appalachian Trail
Ethan set out on the Appalachian Trail, searching for solace amid nature’s embrace.
Early morning sunlight pierced through the leaves, creating shadows, as every step brought a minor triumph over life’s disorder.
He had slammed out of the house, angry over his mother’s questioning.
With his backpack slung over one shoulder, he could almost hear her voice echoing in his mind, urging him to enroll in college, to pursue a path that had never felt like his own.
She had pleaded with him again, her hands gesturing wildly as if trying to grasp the future she envisioned for him.
“Why can’t you just try, Ethan? You’re doing so well at the store; imagine what you could achieve with a degree!”
Success at the supermarket meant shackles to him, but his mother saw it as potential, a stepping stone to more success in a regular job, whatever “regular” meant.
The local supermarket had become his refuge, a place where he had earned recognition and respect, yet it was never enough to fill the void of dissatisfaction growing inside him.
Employee of the month plaques lined the break room, a testament to his hard work, but they felt like hollow victories.
Frustrated, he snapped back.
“I don’t want to go to college! I don’t want to be like everyone else!”
The words hung heavy in the air, sparking an argument that had spiraled into chaos.
His mother had called after him, her voice tinged with worry.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here!”
He had shouted at her; the words escaping him before he could catch them.
Now, as he gripped the breakfast bars he had snatched from the kitchen counter, the crinkling wrappers reminded him of the comfort he sought in the chaos. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the world outside, fresh and alive.
He had driven his car to the start of the Apple Orchard Falls Trail. He knew it crossed the Appalachian Trail at Sunset Field Overlook.
Once on the Appalachian Trail, he planned on hiking it for a few miles. He needed the solitude of the fresh air and trees.
As the day wore on, the familiar path faded from view, swallowed by dense underbrush and towering trees.
I must have taken a wrong side path, he thought.
He glanced at his phone and realized he hadn’t charged it last night.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him he had eaten the breakfast bars hours ago.
By the time dusk blanketed the forest, a creeping unease coiled in his gut. Hunger gnawed at him, sharper than the cool air that settled around his shoulders.
He had lost track of time and direction, and the gentle sounds of the forest transformed into ominous murmurs.
Ethan pressed on, convinced the Trail was beyond the subsequent rise, but the night quickly swallowed the fading light.
Panic fluttered in his chest, and he realized how utterly alone he was.
That’s when he heard a rustling, low and deliberate, breaking the stillness that had settled like a thick fog around him.
He turned, heart racing, and caught sight of a massive figure moving between the trees. It was dark, hulking, and almost glowed under the moonlight.
Ethan blinked, half-expecting it to vanish like a mirage, but the creature remained, its eyes glowing faintly in the night.
Despite hearing stories and whispers about Sasquatch in these woods, he never believed.
“Is this real?” he said aloud, his voice trembling.
With a gentle grace, the creature stepped forward, its massive frame looming above him.
It looked at Ethan with curiosity and concern, as if comprehending his situation.
Then, to Ethan’s shock, the Sasquatch turned and moved with surprising grace, plucking ripe berries from low bushes and unearthing tubers from the earth.
Ethan watched in disbelief, feeling the hollow ache in his stomach intensify. The creature returned, its palms filled with the forest’s bounty, and offered it to him.
“Thank you,” Ethan said, taking the food. The berries burst with sweetness, starkly contrasting the raw fear that had enveloped him. He chewed the tubers slowly, savoring the earthy flavor.
Though, when the Sasquatch presented a small animal—a rabbit, still warm from the forest—Ethan recoiled, shaking his head.
“No, I can’t eat that. Not raw!” he said, a wave of nausea rolling through him.
The creature contemplated his words, tilting its head as if evaluating his uncertainty. After placing the rabbit down, it calmly returned to the underbrush and resumed foraging with a serene determination.
With each morsel of food, Ethan felt strength returning to his limbs and clarity in his mind. He followed the Sasquatch deeper into the woods; the creature guiding him with unerring instinct.
As they walked further, the shadows thickened, and the air grew colder.
Then a piercing shriek shattered the quiet night. A cry of despair and rage, belonging only to something otherworldly, echoed from the forest’s depths.
Ethan’s heart pounded, and he felt an icy grip of fear coil around his spine.
The Sasquatch turned sharply, its eyes wide with alarm, before it dashed into darkness.
“Wait!” Ethan called out, but the creature vanished, leaving him alone in the oppressive stillness.
Panic surged within him, and he backtracked, desperately trying to find his way to the Trail. The once serene woods now appeared dark and labyrinthine.
He heard a rustling. It was different this time, caused by something more significant than Sasquatch. Soft, guttural growls and the unmistakable sound of footsteps accompanied it, approaching.
Ethan’s breath hitched, and he turned to see glowing eyes emerging from the dark.
No question. It wasn’t the Sasquatch.
The creature that stepped into the moonlight was a grotesque parody of the forest. It had elongated and sinewy limbs covered in matted fur, but its face resembled a twisted mask of malice, with eyes burning with an insatiable hunger.
Ethan stumbled backward, fear clawing at his throat as he realized that the stories of Sasquatch were only the beginning of the horrors that lurked in these woods.
The creature lunged, and in that fleeting moment, Ethan understood the truth: super-predators continued to exist. The Sasquatch had not been his savior; it had been a diversion against the forest’s real horrors.
In the encroaching darkness, Ethan screamed, a primal sound devoured by the night, echoing the fate of those who dared venture too deep into the wild—lost, alone, and hunted.
Author’s Note
Check out other Halloween/horror-themed posts at the Halloween link
My new book, The Edges, is now available in digital and paperback formats
Upcoming…
A poem about winged symphony:
Monarchy, 2 November 2024
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Excellent for All Hallows