The Edge of the World

Chapter Five

It was awkward, she decided, walking beside him through the thick decaying vegetation, waist deep in fog. He reminded her of her humanity, femininity, and loneliness. He reminded her of her scars, both physical and emotional, and he reminded her of her cruelty while she thrived on the wrong side of the law. He reminded her of everything she used to not have a problem with before he entered her life, but now her ever-present disgraces seemed to be choking her. He was everything she wasn't, and the understanding of it made her feel fake. Like every part of her being bore the traces of a facade.

Ian was tall, teetering on six-feet, beautiful, intelligent, successful, and walked through the thicket with a grace she couldn't begin to emulate. His steps weren't feminine, no, but almost that of a dancer, and his legs moved with such fluidity, he might as well have floated over the forest floor.

Not so with her. She was forced to walk on her toes, literally creeping over dead grass and broken limbs to ensure she remained as silent as him. The woods were frightening during the day, but at night, the atmosphere resembled a visual representation of what a death realm must look like.

Cold, wet, eerie, and listless.

The view surrounding them made her wonder about his question before, regarding if they were dead. He'd been hysterical, of course, but as they made their way to the small cabin, she wondered if perhaps he was on to something, because nothing about this island seemed right.

"You said something was in the woods earlier. What did you see," Ian asked.

She struggled to find the words, uncertain how to describe that thing.

"I'm not sure what it was, but the thing walked on two legs and was huge. I don't know if it was human because it looked like something out of a Lovecraft novel. It might have been a disguise of some sort, but I can't be certain. It moved through the woods, so I didn't get a good view because of the trees."

"Did it notice you?"

"It must have. I stood in the open when we crossed paths. After it looked my way, I hid, thinking my time was up. But it just vanished."

"Maybe the shadows played with your vision."

She scoffed in indignation. Tatum wasn't the overexcited type and didn't appreciate the insinuation that something simple such as shadows could twist her.

"I'm not stupid, doc. It was as real as you are, and so not friendly. I've seen and done shit someone like you might only imagine happening in your worst dreams. But that creature, I can say with certainty, wins the nightmare fuel award."

As she recalled the memory of that terrifying moment she spotted the creature, chills climbed her flesh, and she shuddered. Ian sighed beside her, shaking his head.

"I wasn't trying to insult you, Tatum. I'm just saying we need to recognize fact from fiction if we hope to survive on this island. I need to get home. I'm all my mom has, and I have a fiancée waiting for me. I can't lose myself to superstition and paranoia. We'll get through this if we keep our heads."

Fiancée? Well of course he has one of those. Why wouldn't he?

Her sudden stop forced him to do the same, and she spun to face him.

"I'm not superstitious and never have been. Believe me or don't, I really don't give a shit, but mark my words---There is something on this island, and it ain't here to fucking help us."

Tatum didn't wait for a reply. She began walking once more, gripping the gun in her hand, wishing that its weight gave her comfort. But it didn't. A voice in the back of her mind told her she was bringing a gun to a ghost fight, and the weapon would prove pointless. In this desolate realm, they were like lost children, and their future remained ambiguous. And if there was one thing Tatum hated, it was uncertainty.