AllFreeNovel
Share Us
1
ivy
Ididn’t take my time stretching before I left the apartment. I ran a half-marathon last month; I know better. But tonight, the need to outpace my problems overrides the healthy dose of common sense I am sorely missing. The moon rises overhead, but I am wide awake. My legs pump for the pleasure and the pain, my sneakers consuming the distance as gravel gives way to grass.
Everyone outside of Grayrock City believes these woods are haunted. It’s how I know I will be the only person on the trail tonight. I don’t care if I run into any number of supernatural creatures. That’s how upsetting my dreams have been lately. I need to tire myself out before trying to sleep tonight, so I aimed for the big mountain on the other side of Grayrock City that butts up to the ocean and started jogging. Of course, I’m not stupid enough to jog through the city that’s brimming with magic. That would be nuts. I’ll just go near it by running through the forest that encircles the hidden city that the non-magic world isn’t supposed to know about.
Running shorts, sports bra, headlamp, water bottle, and trainers. That’s all I need to get some distance from my apartment that hasn’t felt restful for a while now.
If my mother were still alive, she would shriek her displeasure if she saw me venturing into the thick of the trees that encircle Grayrock City. Even though it was her home before she had me, she hates this place and forbade me to ever go there.
Good old Fern.
But Fern’s not here anymore, and for some reason, my legs burn to bring me into the woods I’ve been seeing in my dreams.
My lungs ache as I take a deep breath of the chilly late summer air. Lughnasad—a time of both hope and fear—my mother would have reminded me. It’s the time of year when the shifters are more active, searching for mates among their kind.
Combine that with the vampires’ proclivity for coming out after the sun sets, and I know the rumors about the forest being haunted are only rumors to the non-magical folk. They live off the promise that something devious lurks beyond these woods, worse than the murders that stalk the front pages.
Not that I consider myself part of the magical community. I’m not sure I’m a member of the non-magic citizens, either. I don’t live in Grayrock City, but rather on the fringes of their covens and packs. It’s hard to pretend to be normal when my mother’s magic burns in my blood this time of year. Though I don’t practice witchcraft and I can’t brew a potion to save my life, my fingers itch to pick herbs. I want to at least be nearer to nature this time of year, even if I inherited none of the great Fern Moon’s magic.
Brushes whip past me, some clawing at my arms as I try to push out the sound of wolves howling in the distance, their piercing cries more audible the further into the woods I traverse.
My watch vibrates, so I hold my arm as steady as I can to check the alert I set for myself.
“Don’t go into the woods,”it reads.
I set this reminder for myself because for weeks now, I’ve been enmeshed in these strange dreams that I wake from with more questions than any slumber should ever produce. I can’t shake the image of the sad gargoyle perched on the precipice of an ancient building. I get the sense that the towering structure is located inside of Grayrock City. I’ve not seen him in person, but his haunting visage has been plaguing my dreams for weeks. Then I wake to find I’ve…
I don’t want to think about that, because it’s not going to happen again tonight.
Though my feet have been itching to discover at least the fringes of Grayrock City, Fern’s caution to stay away rings loudly in my mind.
The moment I dismiss the alert and make to turn back, I don’t get three steps toward my home before my arm begins to burn without warning. “Ah!” My steps falter and I nearly lose my footing as I try to come to a stop while my right arm feels like it’s caught fire. “Ow! Oh, ah!”
My headlamp is the only way to light the path this far into the woods. The trees have crowded out even the moon’s best efforts to illuminate the forest. I stare at my arm, gritting my teeth while I search for flames to have spontaneously burned my flesh out of nowhere. But no matter how I angle my arm for inspection, I see nothing of note.
That is, until what feels like a hand I cannot see grips my bicep. Something invisible grabs and squeezes, the heat piercing my calm as I fight to catch my breath. I jerk around and try to bat away the hold, but it doesn’t appear to be connected to anyone. It’s a phantom sting, and if I believed in ghosts, I would surely trust that is who held my arm, searing it without a single flame.
But these woods hold only shifters, witches, and vampires, and they don’t normally venture this far to the non-magical side of the trees. Fern is the strange one who decided to put away all thought of magic and live in the normal world with her only daughter.
I shouldn’t have come into these woods.
I shake my arm around, hoping the night air can cool the burn of which I still see no evidence. I feel it, but I don’t see a thing. I drop to my knees and lunge forward, pressing my right arm to the cool dirt in hopes that might soothe the sting that keeps on coming.
Did I get bitten by something? My first response is to brush off any insinuation that I can’t shake whatever this is. I run half-marathons. I’m a therapist. I teach other people how to meet their goals.
But never has my arm heated with an invisible fire. It doesn’t appear to be leaving any burn marks but I feel the urgency of the pain all the same.
I don’t understand.
I grit my teeth as I scoop dirt over my bicep, praying it cools the burn that keeps growing.
I have antiseptic and various first aid things in my apartment. But the second I get up and take a few steps back, the pain ramps up so badly, my vision tunnels. I stumble forward toward the patch of disheveled dirt to shove my arm back into it but when I move forward, before my knees even hit the ground, I find that the pain lessens. It’s not gone, but it is certainly more bearable. I don’t question the logic of it, but lean into the relief, taking step after step away from home, where I know I should return.
Fern would be livid with me, but I push out my mother’s warnings; so acute is my need to numb this spontaneous agony.
I pause, but the second my feet stop moving me further to the thick of the forest, the pain ramps up again. “Ah!” I grip the stinging part of my arm as the discomfort forces me to my knees.
