The Stairs in the Woods

Chapter 15-Now

Aja ended up being right about my job.

It took two full days before the hospital decided they were ready to release me. And there were a million things to sort out—my wallet was in my car, but my car was parked outside the woods, and somewhere in the forest I'd lost my keys. So it took another five days to sort all that out. But finally, after a week, I put on my park ranger uniform, drove to the field station, and was promptly fired.

Stella looked like she was about to cry when she did it, too. I'd never seen her in such a state. Honestly, the look on her face—terrified, desperate, defeated—scared me a little bit.

And that's not even the worst of it.

There have been two major changes to my life besides losing my job since the woods, and neither of them for the better.

First, Aja's been hanging around me constantly—calling me every day, dropping by my apartment, making sure I don't try to go back into the woods. Which is fine. I'm not going back yet. I need to plan, first. I need to figure out how to find Alice. Because I was close. I've been poring over every book, every article, every blog post I can get my hands on. I'm going to find out what that monster was, I'm going to figure out a way past it, and I'm going to get Alice back if it kills me.

Which it likely will.

But I'm past the point of caring.

The second change is even worse than Aja's hovering. Ever since I got out of the hospital, every time I'm alone and it's quiet, I can hear something.

It's low and rumbling, a hollow scraping. Sort of like grinding teeth, every bit as skin-prickling and gross, but worse somehow. Because it's heavier, and it's only in my head, and it's absolutely fucking incessant.

I heard it for the first time when I'd just gotten back from the hospital. I was on the couch, flipping through TV shows in dead silence. It started slowly, quietly, so faint that I didn't even notice it until it was roaring in my ears and shrieking with all the visceral earthly agony of stone on rough stone. And god—I screamed, because I didn't know where it was coming from. It didn't come from my head, it came from around me, and I must've turned my apartment inside out before finally accepting that the problem was coming from me.

Loud music helps. I've figured that out. Anything loud, really, especially if it's played through headphones. Helps drown it out.

I've got an earbud in now, blaring girl in red. I don't know what that sound is, I don't know why it's plaguing me, but it comes from whatever darkness forests hold. I'll find out. I click between posts on my laptop, everything from Reddit horror stories to weird niche blog posts.

I'm not the only one who's seen a monster like that. I've heard stories from frazzled tourists before, local legends, but it's something else to see someone from halfway across the country post about an almost identical experience.

The scraping sound tears at the edge of my consciousness. I turn up the volume another few notches. My hand taps manically against the side of my desk chair as I roll back and forth across the floor aimlessly.

My phone buzzes, interrupting the music.

I scowl and answer without looking at who it is. "Why should I let you in?" I ask Aja.

Her angry voice lashes through the phone speaker. "Because you're unemployed and on the verge of a mental breakdown and got out of the hospital a week ago."

I hate her when she's right. I've said that before, and I'll never stop saying that.

"Fine," I mutter, buzzing her into the building.

Less than a minute later, she's at my door with a dish in hand. She shoves it into my hands the moment I let her in. "Have you been eating?"

"No." The dish is warm and wrapped in tinfoil. I set it down on the counter. "What are you doing here?"

Aja kicks her shoes off. "Checking on you."

She rifles through my kitchen drawers until she finds two forks and something to serve the food with. I'm not sure if I'm annoyed or endeared by the ease with which she navigates my apartment. Aja pulls out two plates, then takes the tinfoil off the baking dish, revealing a delicious-looking lasagna.

"I'm fine," I protest halfheartedly.

Aja looks me up and down. I resist the urge to recoil under her scrutiny. "You've been wearing that shirt the past like four days I've stopped by and your hair's greasy as hell. Also, the bags under your eyes look like bruises. You're not fine. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," I admit. "And my feet hurt. But other than that? Fine."

"Sure." She doles out two big servings of lasagna and passes one plate to me. "You looking at other jobs yet?"

Uncertainty washes over me. "No. Stella's gonna hire me back, though, right?"

Aja actually laughs. "Nope."

"Wonderful." I take a bite of lasagna. I'm pissed that it's as good as it is. "I'm not looking for jobs right now. I'm taking personal time."

"That's what you're calling this?"

I poke at my lasagna. "Shut up."

"You've at least dropped the forest stuff, right?" Aja asks.

The bite of food turns to cement in my throat. I struggle to swallow it suddenly. Coughing, I croak out, "Yeah."

"I wish I could believe you," she sighs.

"I'm not going back in," I promise. Which is true. Mostly. Sort of. I'm not going back in for at least another few weeks, because if I go back in I'll get lost the same way I did before, so I'll wait until I've got a bit more information.

"That's good, at least."

We finish dinner in silence. There's not much else to say. It's sweet that Aja's been checking up on me, but I don't want her there. I'm an adult. I don't need a babysitter. She leaves, finally, but tells me to keep the rest of the lasagna. There's a whole pile of her half-filled unwashed baking dishes on my counter now.

The moment she's gone, the stone scraping sound fills my ears again. I cringe and get music going as soon as I can. Not bothering to clean up, I go right back into my bedroom and lose myself in my research again.

I'll find you, Alice. If it takes weeks, months, years.

I've never been closer. I can't just give it up now.

You understand, don't you?

Yeah, you do. You understand.