SOUL

reunited as adults at crime scene

Marigold tossed and turned, struggling to find sleep. When she finally drifted off, she was immediately thrust into a nightmare. But this time, it wasn't Jane Williams.

She was standing in a dark, unfamiliar place, the air cold and damp, the ground beneath her feet slick with mud. She heard a soft voice, almost a whisper, calling her name. Marigold turned, and there, emerging from the shadows, was a woman she'd never seen before—Marie Johnston. She recognized her from the news reports, the missing posters plastered around town. But now she was here, right in front of her, wearing the same clothes she'd been taken in, her eyes wide and sad, her face pale.

"Marie," Marigold whispered, her voice shaking.

Marie stepped closer, her movements slow, almost mechanical. "Yes," she said, her voice barely audible. "I need you to find me."

"Where are you?" Marigold asked, her heart pounding, a sense of dread creeping up her spine.

"He left me... in the forest, near the cliffs," Marie said, her words punctuated by shallow, labored breaths. "Near where the trail splits. I'm... waiting." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her lips trembled. "He left me there."

Marigold's throat tightened, and she felt a hot, painful lump form. "I'm so sorry, Marie," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "I'll find you. I promise."

"Please," Marie said, her voice breaking. "Don't let him do this to anyone else."

Before Marigold could say another word, Marie's image flickered and faded, leaving her alone in the dark. She jolted awake, gasping for breath, her skin clammy and her heart racing. The room was still, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. But she couldn't shake the feeling that Marie was still there, somewhere, waiting.

Marigold's hands trembled as she got dressed, throwing on jeans, a heavy sweater, and boots. She knew she had to go, had to see if this was real. Every time she had tried to ignore these visions, she'd ended up regretting it. This time, she wouldn't hesitate. She grabbed her coat and keys and headed out, driving through the still-dark morning toward the forest on the outskirts of town.

---

When Marigold arrived at the forest trailhead, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting the area in a gray, ghostly light. She parked her car and made her way down the narrow, winding path, her breath visible in the cold morning air. She didn't know exactly where she was going, but she let her instincts guide her, the way they always did when she had these visions. She followed the path until she saw a small clearing near the cliffs, and there, at the edge of the clearing, she saw something that made her heart stop.

Marie's body, lying motionless on the ground, her limbs arranged carefully, each one pinned to the trees, a large nail sticking out, almost reverently. Her eyes were closed, her face unnaturally peaceful, as if she were merely sleeping, a full face of makeup on her skin.

She walked closer, her legs feeling like they might give out at any moment. Her eyes fixed on Marie's pale, lifeless face, and she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks. She didn't want to move, didn't want to believe this was happening again, but she couldn't look away. She just stood there, staring blankly, tears rolling down her face, unable to comprehend the brutality of it all.

The hikers who found the scene arrived minutes later, stumbling upon Marigold as they followed the trail. They had been out for an early morning walk, enjoying the crisp air and the quiet, when they saw her—a lone woman standing in the clearing, staring at something.

As they approached, they could see Marigold more clearly. She was crying silently, her face expressionless, her eyes locked on the body at her feet. The hikers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to do. One of them cautiously stepped forward.