CHAPTER 23: THE LAST STAND

3 0 0
                                    

Charles’s mind raced. Simon was toying with them, using the fog and darkness to his advantage. But how could he be in so many places at once? Was someone helping him, or was it all part of his twisted psychological game?

Charles felt his pulse quicken. “We need to stay calm,” he said, trying to steady his own nerves. “He’s trying to scare us. He’s manipulating us.”

Victor shook his head, his eyes wild with fear. “We’re dead. He’s going to kill us.”

“No,” Charles snapped, grabbing Victor by the shoulders. “We’re not dead yet. But we have to be smart. He’s trying to control the situation—don’t let him.”

Another footstep echoed behind them, and Charles whipped around, scanning the trees. He couldn’t see Simon, but he could feel him—feel the eyes watching them from the shadows.

Victor was on the verge of panic, and Charles knew they couldn’t stay in the open any longer. “We need to find cover,” Charles whispered. “Stay close to me.”

They moved cautiously through the woods, their footsteps careful now, every sound amplified by the oppressive silence. Charles’s eyes flicked constantly from side to side, searching for any sign of Simon—or whoever else might be out there.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the tension tightening with each step. But then, in the distance, Charles saw it—a small, dilapidated structure barely visible through the fog.

“There,” he said, pointing. “It’s an old shed or cabin. We can hide there.”

Victor didn’t argue. They moved quickly toward the structure, their hope rising just slightly. As they approached, Charles noticed the door was ajar, hanging loosely on its hinges.

“Go inside,” Charles ordered, pushing Victor toward the entrance.

But as they stepped into the dark, musty interior, Charles realized too late—this wasn’t safety.

It was a trap.

Whispers In The FogWhere stories live. Discover now