Westbane

Episode 3. 8 The Night Monster

Elfrida

If there was one thing that utterly freaked me out about the Bane woods, it would be its ability to remain completely still. The kind of stillness that made you sweat even if your body was as cold as ice, the kind of stillness that would send sharp shivers down your spine. Even from the look on Picklewoods' face, I could tell she felt it.

The feeling of being watched, the feeling of something breathing near you, of being surrounded and trapped.

But that wasn't the case for me.

Instead of putting me on edge, the woods made me feel... belonging? It was like a part of me, a part of what I was, what I used to be, what I am. I shouldn't feel completely safe here, not when a kid had brutally died, and not when one was probably in here somewhere, hopefully alive and well... but I did. I felt like nothing could hurt me, even if something wanted to.

It was an odd feeling, one I didn't completely understand, one I had no idea on why I was feeling, but was anyway.

Looking over at Rhett, I could see that he had a very relaxed look on his face, his shoulders weren't tense like Picklewood's. He looked like he had been here a couple of times and he had nothing at all to be scared of. I felt like I could read his expression like a book.

I looked away the moment I sensed him turning to look my way, but I knew that he was well aware that my eyes had been on him.

The sounds of our feet crushing the dry leaves was the only sound we could hear, that was when Picklewood wasn't taking pictures of the woods. "Well this place sure is spooky." She voiced out, her eyes going around trying to take in everything at the same time. I was sure she would have a good story to tell her friends or whomever it was she hung out with, later.

The fog surrounding us wasn't lessening anytime soon.

"Don't complain, you wanted to come in here." Rhett's said, a certain edge to his voice.

"Well I-"

The sound of someone crying stopped Picklewood mid sentence, and also our footsteps as we all stopped to listen.

It was soft, coming from somewhere not so far from where we stood.

Rhett removed his gun from his holster, and so did I.

He stretched out his hand pulling Picklewood back as we both moved forward.

There she was, crouched down, her back resting against a tree, as she shivered, visible goosebumps all over her skin. She hugged her legs to her chest, her whole body shaking with cold and her crying.

"Volenbard?" Picklewood called out, shock apparent in her voice, almost like the girl in question was the last person she would have expected to be here. "Well, good thing he died before he could have screwed you, Brody was a prick."

"That's enough of that." Rhett shot Picklewood a glare as he walked over to the girl who slowly looked up at us, her blue eyes wide with fear, they looked tired and colourless.

She sobbed out as Rhett gathered her in his arms. "It's alright Mikaela, you're safe now."

* * *

It was busy in the police department, I could still hear the distant cry of Mrs Huffins, and her husband trying to comfort her. I stared at Mikaela through the two way glass.

She still looked pale, her eyes still brimming with tears.

The feeling of understanding swept through me as I stared at Mikaela through the glass. I understood that look, that body posture. Afterall, I had been there not long ago, and I had fought my way out of that dark bottomless hole... but would Mikaela be able to do it? To fight the guilt, the trauma, the terror? Was she strong enough?