The creature in the woods

The Price

The roar reverberated through the clearing, shaking the ground beneath Ethan and James. The fog swirled thickly around them, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Ethan’s heart pounded as he glanced at the massive stone altar before them, overgrown with twisted roots and strange symbols. This was the place the creature had led them to, the place where the price had to be paid.

But what price?

James was trembling beside him, backing away slowly from the altar. “Ethan, we need to leave—now!” he hissed, his voice strained with terror. “This thing... whatever it is, it’s going to kill us!”

Ethan didn’t respond right away. His eyes were locked on the altar, his mind racing. The creature could have attacked them already, but it hadn’t. It had brought them here, to this specific place. There was something more at play, something deeper, something the creature wanted from them.

“We can’t just run,” Ethan muttered, more to himself than to James. “Not yet.”

James grabbed his arm, his face pale. “What are you talking about? If we stay here, we’re dead!”

Ethan shook him off. “Think, James. It didn’t kill us before, when we ran. It could’ve, but it didn’t. And now it’s brought us here—there’s something it wants.”

Another deafening roar echoed through the trees, louder this time, closer. The fog churned violently, and the shadows shifted as the creature moved toward them. They didn’t have much time.

“What does it want?” James asked, his voice shaking. “How are we supposed to know what it wants?”

Ethan stared at the altar, the strange symbols carved into the stone, and something clicked. Mrs. Bennett’s words echoed in his mind: The forest always demands a price.

“What if… the price isn’t our lives?” Ethan whispered.

James looked at him like he was crazy. “Then what the hell is it?”

Ethan’s gaze fell on the journal in his backpack. He had brought it with him, hoping it would provide answers, and now he realized that it just might. He quickly unzipped his bag and pulled it out, flipping through the brittle pages to the note he had read before: The forest always demands a price.

Below the note, in the same faint handwriting, there was another line he had overlooked earlier. It was almost too faded to read, but now, under the pressing threat of the creature, it stood out to him like a beacon:

"Sacrifice what binds you, and the forest will release you."

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. “Sacrifice,” he murmured. “That’s the price.”

James’s eyes widened in horror. “Sacrifice? What are you talking about? There’s no way we’re sacrificing anything!”

But Ethan was already moving toward the altar. He didn’t fully understand it, but something inside him—something primal—knew this was the answer. The creature wasn’t after their lives. It was after something else, something they carried with them.

“I don’t think it’s asking for blood,” Ethan said, kneeling before the altar. “It’s something more symbolic.”

James looked at him, confused. “Symbolic? What does that even mean?”

Ethan pulled his flashlight from his pocket and set it on the altar. He then reached for the compass his father had given him—a gift from when he was younger, one he had always carried with him. The compass was worn, its brass surface dull from years of use, but it was important to him. It represented home, safety—his connection to the world outside the forest.

Without hesitation, he placed the compass beside the flashlight.

James’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“I think the creature wants something from us—something we hold onto, something that ties us to safety, to the outside world,” Ethan explained, his voice low and steady. “If we give it up, maybe it’ll let us go.”

James hesitated, clearly torn between the fear of staying and the fear of losing something important. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his own offering—a silver chain he always wore around his neck. It was his grandmother’s, something he never took off.

“This is insane,” James muttered, but he stepped forward and placed the chain on the altar beside Ethan’s items.

The fog thickened, and the ground seemed to tremble beneath them. The creature’s growl rumbled through the forest again, but it wasn’t a sound of rage this time. It was something else—something deeper, almost… satisfied.

The air grew colder, and the symbols on the stone altar began to glow faintly. Ethan’s breath hitched as he watched the light pulse through the carvings, illuminating the dark clearing. He glanced at James, who looked just as terrified, but there was no turning back now.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared at the edge of the clearing. The creature. Its glowing eyes stared at them, but it didn’t move. It stood there, watching, waiting.

Ethan’s heart raced. “I think it’s working.”

The glowing light from the altar brightened, casting eerie shadows through the fog. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the light faded, and the symbols returned to their lifeless state. The clearing grew still, the fog thinning, and for a moment, everything seemed frozen in place.

The creature didn’t move.

Ethan’s pulse thundered in his ears. Had it worked? Had they paid the price?

The creature tilted its head, its glowing eyes fixed on the altar. It let out a low, rumbling growl, and then—slowly—it began to retreat, disappearing back into the shadows of the forest. As its figure faded into the darkness, the oppressive weight that had hung in the air lifted, and the forest seemed to breathe again.

Ethan let out a shaky breath. “It worked,” he whispered.

James collapsed to the ground, his hands trembling. “I can’t believe it. I thought we were dead.”

Ethan nodded, still in shock. They had done it—they had paid the price, whatever it was, and the creature had let them go. But as he stared at the empty altar, a strange sense of unease settled over him. The creature hadn’t vanished; it had only retreated.

The forest, it seemed, was never truly done with those it marked.

“We need to leave,” Ethan said, helping James to his feet. “We’re not safe here.”

Without another word, they turned and ran from the clearing, the fog parting as they moved. The path ahead was clear now, the forest less oppressive, but Ethan knew deep down that this wasn’t over. The creature had let them go—for now—but it still lurked in the shadows, watching, waiting.

As they reached the edge of the woods and the familiar lights of the town came into view, Ethan glanced back one last time. The forest stood silent and dark, but he could feel the creature’s presence still, a faint echo of its growl carried on the wind.

Whatever they had given up on that altar, it wasn’t enough to sever the bond entirely. The forest always demanded a price—and Ethan feared that one day, it would come to collect again.