blood orange sky (bwwm horror)

the devil put a cookie in my throat

Calliope sat in the driver's seat of her RV, her deep brown eyes scanning the map spread across her lap. Her dark curls, slightly frizzy from the humidity, brushed her shoulders as she leaned back, letting out a slow breath. She had parked just outside a small, unfamiliar town, another dot on the map, wondering if this place would be different.

The hum of the night outside was calming, but her restlessness remained. It had been like this for years now—moving from town to town, never staying long, always feeling the urge to keep going. Her brown skin glowed faintly in the dashboard's light as she traced her finger across the map, searching for where to go next. Tomorrow, she would explore this town, see if it offered any reason to stay.

But deep down, she knew the road always had a way of pulling her back, even when she didn't know what she was looking for.

Calliope clicked on the small TV mounted near her kitchenette, its old screen flickering to life. The familiar static buzz faded, replaced by the late-night news. She wasn't one for TV, but sometimes, the loneliness of the road made her want to hear another voice, even if it was just a stranger reading headlines. She sipped her lukewarm coffee, half-listening as the anchor droned on about the usual politics and weather.

Then, the tone shifted, and the image on the screen cut to a news reporter standing outside a dense forest, her face illuminated by the harsh glare of camera lights. Calliope froze, her fingers tightening around her mug.

"In tonight's top story, yet another missing person has been reported in the area near the North Ridge Woods," the reporter announced, her voice too smooth, too rehearsed for the grim news she delivered. "Twenty-four-year-old Kelly Harper was last seen hiking near the trails, and authorities fear she may have fallen victim to the growing number of disappearances plaguing the region."

Calliope cringed, feeling a knot form in her stomach. The reporter's face filled the screen, a false sense of concern plastered across her features. "Locals are calling it 'the curse of the woods,' with some even refusing to go near the area. Sheriff's deputies are conducting an intensive search, but so far, no signs of Harper or the other missing individuals have been found. Authorities are advising anyone in the surrounding towns to be cautious and avoid isolated areas."

The words hit Calliope like a cold gust of wind, making her shiver despite the warmth inside her RV. She muted the volume, staring at the flickering images of the search party combing through the forest. Missing persons cases had become a constant hum in the background of her travels, another unsettling reminder of the dangers lurking in small towns and quiet places like this.

She leaned back, turning her gaze away from the TV, but the reporter's words echoed in her mind. "Another one," she muttered to herself, running a hand through her curls.

Calliope picked up her phone and unlocked it, her fingers moving swiftly over the screen as she navigated to the search engine. She typed in "missing persons North Ridge Woods" and hit search, her heart racing with a mix of curiosity and unease. The first few articles popped up, their headlines alarming and urgent.

She skimmed through the headlines, each one detailing a woman who had vanished under similar circumstances—each one around her age. Kelly Harper, twenty-four; Rachel Johnson, twenty-three; Amanda Lee, twenty-five. The details blurred together as she read, the common threads of young women disappearing into the wilderness wrapping around her like a heavy blanket.

"Local women disappearing without a trace..."

"Search efforts intensified in the North Ridge area..."

"Community on edge as disappearances continue..."

As she read, a dull ache settled in her chest, but it was more of a distant echo than true concern. Part of her recognized the risk, and understood the fear that clung to those headlines. But another part of her shrugged it off, dismissing the anxiety gnawing at her mind. She was a wanderer, after all—she'd survived countless nights alone in unfamiliar places. The world was big, chaotic, and dangerous, but she had learned to navigate its unpredictability.