Condemned: Short Stories

The Mist

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as we fled from the unknown creature, my breath shallow and ragged. Brook had warned me that this forest was a bad idea, but I had ignored him. Amy was in the lead, and Brook was right beside me. 

But then I realized Brook was no longer by my side. I frantically searched the surrounding trees and undergrowth, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Where the hell is Brook?" I shouted, my voice laced with fear and panic.

The twisted branches of the trees loomed around us, reaching out like bony fingers. The mist swirled around us, making it difficult to see. Amy turned to me, her face pale and her eyes wide with fear.

"We need to leave," she panted. "He might have found another route."

"Another route? This forest is a one-way trip to hell! There is no other way," I exclaimed.

Amy closed her eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I'll go for help," she said before turning and running away.

My heart was pounding and my body was slick with sweat. I couldn't abandon my brother. I retraced my steps, following the broken twigs and crushed leaves. Finally, I saw a shadow. My stomach twisted in knots as I approached it.

A smile spread across my face as I saw Brook. He was stuck, his leg trapped in a burrow.

"Brook! I'm here," I shouted, running towards him.

He looked at me, tears streaming down his face. "You came back for me," he said, his voice weak and trembling. "I knew you would."

I stepped forward to help him, but then I saw the creature. It was approaching from behind, its dark aura paralyzing my thoughts.

I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. Brook looked at me, his face pale and wrinkles etched deep into his skin.

"Please help," he whispered.

My lungs gave out and my legs trembled. "I'm sorry," I said, tears streaming down my face. "I'm so sorry."

As the creature closed in, I turned and ran, leaving my brother behind to face the unknown terror alone.

***

The darkness enveloped me as I woke up, my heart pounding and my breaths ragged. The memories of that fateful day twenty-three years ago flooded my mind. My wife's soothing voice pulled me back to reality, and I realized we were on a bus, speeding through the Venezuelan Ante forest.

"Honey, that nightmare again?" My wife, Amy, asked, concern etched on her face.

I couldn't bring myself to speak, my senses still reeling from the vivid dream. She placed her hand on my back, trying to comfort me.

"Why are we going back?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"You know why," she said, closing the window to block out the wind. "The flora here has healing powers that could save dying lives. We work for the World Health Organization now, and we have certain responsibilities to follow."

I slammed my fist on the seat beside me. "You were there! You saw it too. That creature... And my brother. We abandoned him!" I exclaimed, my voice rising in frustration and guilt.

Amy hugged me tightly, trying to calm me.

"You feel guilty, don't you? That's why we're going back, right? You think we can save him now after all these years?" I asked, my voice heavy with emotion.

She hung her head, unable to meet my gaze. Our children, Luke and Cerci, looked on with concern, but I couldn't bring myself to ease their worries.

As we disembarked from the bus, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that hung over me. Armed with revolvers and pocket knives, we set out. We tied a red string to a nearby tree, our guide back to the starting point.