Burning Ember

Chapter 13

​

After Hale and I called the police, they once again told me nothing was found but a flurry of tracks in the snow. It was disappointing and left me with no answers as to who was behind the mask. Hale stayed by my side through all of it, bearing witness, and acting as proof to the disbelieving officers that questioned me. Having called them out twice already, they seemed to be growing distrustful, almost as if they thought I was doing it for the attention. First a break in, then a body, and now this. I knew that if I told them about the chase through the woods, whether it was a dream or not, they certainly wouldn't believe me. Hale left the next morning, though he didn't want to leave me by myself with that creep lurking around.

I didn't really want him to leave either, I was still shaken from it. Thoughts pestered me—all the what ifs. What was his intention, what would he have done if we hadn't seen him. Hale being there hadn't stopped him before. But at least when Hale was there, I didn't feel like such an easy target.

Coffee bubbled in the percolator as I picked up my phone to call Ivy. "Ivy, you're never going to believe this." I said as soon as she said hello.

"What, weirdo?"

"Hale was over last night and he saw the man in the mask. So, it isn't him, and I'm not crazy," I told her as I paced around the table.

"Well, those are both good things, but if it's not Hale then who the fuck is it?" she replied as I heard her car start.

"That, I don't know, and it's really bothering me because I can't think of a single person aside from Gabriel, and even for him that's a bit extreme. And not exactly his style of torment."

"True, true." Ivy hummed in thought for a moment before she said, "Have you thought about setting up cameras?"

"I have cameras, but . . . Oh my god the cameras. They could have captured footage of what happened that night. They could prove if it was a dream or if it really happened. Ivy, I gotta go." Dropping my phone to the table, I ran to the attic and opened my laptop. Hale had shown me how to access everything, but it was complicated, and I had to go back so far to find the right moment in time. I sat for hours and hours poring over footage of my dead garden and coming up with absolutely nothing. Beginning to lose hope, and becoming drowsy from boredom at the keyboard, I caught something. I slowly backed up the footage and I saw it. The masked man carrying me out past the garden and setting me down. The angle was shit, and we were partially out of frame, but still, this was proof. I kept watching, fast forwarding to see what happened after. I remembered climbing up the slope and him tackling me to the ground, but nothing of what happened after he stuck me with something.

The footage rolled on, wind rustling the dried leaves on the ground, and then I saw him carrying me back up as I hung limply in his arms covered in mud and leaves. I was hoping that since I had been unconscious, he would have taken the mask off, but he didn't. It was still firmly in place. A shiver racked my body as I thought about being in his arms, and the vile things he could have done to me. Then he stopped and sat on the edge of the fountain as he held me in his lap. His head was down toward mine, as his hand stroked my cheek for several moments before shifting me up against his chest, my head lolling to the side against his shoulder, and he just held me there. Stroking my back as if he were trying to soothe me as he rocked back and forth, almost as if what he had done pained him.

It was hard to process what I was seeing. The inner turmoil was so conflicting. Feeling violated, yet—I didn't think he would have hurt me. The way he acted when I wasn't able to see him verses when I was awake was so drastically different. Like he was putting on a show that hurt him to perform. It made no sense. Why me? Who was he and what did he want from me? I thought back to the note he left. Hiding won't save you. Then I thought about what he said in the woods, how he challenged me, pushed me to fight against my fear. It was almost like he was trying to help me in some twisted way, but I still didn't understand why. The masked man cradled me in his arms and carried me back toward the house, disappearing from view.

After shutting my laptop, I dragged myself down the stairs, feeling dazed over what I witnessed. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, a mail truck was pulling from the driveway. On the porch was a parcel wrapped in twine. Unravelling the thick, rough string as I carried it in, I set the parcel on the table, and stared at it. There was something ominous about it, the writing on the front was familiar and there was no return address.

I ripped the corner of the brown paper and tipped it. A key, similar to the one I had found in the box upstairs clattered to the table, and a folded note slipped out. I turned the key over in my hand before setting it aside and reached for the note. An uneasy feeling washed over me as I carefully unfolded it and read the words inside.

Your turn to seek. Find me . . . if you can.