Beneath The Trees

The Unease Settles In

Setting up camp was meant to be straightforward, but for Mason, it felt like an uphill battle. The more they unpacked, set up tents, and arranged the campsite, the heavier his chest felt. He couldn't shake the feeling that the forest was pressing in on him, the trees leaning just a little too close, their shadows casting long, claw-like fingers across the ground.

Robert, of course, was in his element. He moved about with ease, his voice carrying through the clearing as he barked out instructions to Tyler or made pointed comments that just barely touched on the line of polite conversation. Mason found himself biting his tongue more often than not, trying to keep his reactions neutral. He knew Robert didn't like him—not in an overt, aggressive way, but in the subtle, always-disapproving manner of a father who thought no one would ever be good enough for his son.

"Hey, Mason, you ever set up a campfire before?" Robert called, his tone one of faux curiosity. He had that same smile on his face—the one that made Mason feel like he was being tested.

"I've done it a couple times," Mason said, walking over, trying not to sound defensive.

Robert gave a little chuckle, shaking his head. "No worries. I'll give you a hand. It's all about getting the structure just right, you know? Otherwise, it all collapses on itself."

Mason clenched his jaw but forced a smile. "Right. Thanks, Robert."

He watched as Robert expertly stacked the wood, showing Mason how to leave enough room for airflow, how to arrange the kindling. Mason listened, nodding at the right times, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the prickling sensation that was gnawing at the back of his neck—the feeling that something, somewhere in those dark woods, was watching them.

Tyler, oblivious to the tension, worked on setting up the cooking area with Elaine, chatting and laughing easily with his mother. Mason envied how easily Tyler fit in with his family—how comfortable he looked, like he belonged here. Mason glanced at Robert, who was now lighting the fire, his face illuminated by the growing flame. For a moment, Robert's eyes caught Mason's, and there was something there—a flicker of something that looked almost like satisfaction.

"See? Not too hard," Robert said, giving Mason a pat on the back that was a little too firm. "Takes a bit of practice, but you'll get the hang of it."

Mason smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks. I appreciate the help."

The fire crackled, its warmth slowly pushing back the chill of the evening. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the tree line, leaving the clearing bathed in an eerie twilight glow. Mason sat down on one of the folding chairs, staring into the flames. The firelight flickered and danced, casting shadows that shifted and moved across the ground and the tents.

The unease that had settled in Mason's chest since they'd arrived only seemed to grow as the evening wore on. The trees loomed, dark and silent, and the air felt heavy, thick with something unnameable. He tried to engage in the conversation, but Robert's subtle digs kept coming, wearing him down little by little. Every time Mason tried to talk to Tyler, Robert would interject, steering the conversation away, and Tyler—sweet, oblivious Tyler—didn't seem to notice.

Elaine, thankfully, was kind. She chatted with Mason, asking about work, about their plans for the wedding. Her voice was a balm, easing some of the tension that Robert had wound into him. But even with her warmth, the feeling of being an outsider persisted, wrapping around Mason like a too-tight blanket.

As the evening wore on, the shadows deepened, and the stars began to poke through the darkening sky. The fire was now roaring, its heat radiating through the clearing, and Mason tried to focus on it, on the warmth, on the sound of Tyler's laughter. But every so often, his eyes would drift to the edge of the clearing, to the dark wall of trees, and the feeling of unease would settle back over him, heavier than before.

The conversation around the fire grew quieter as the evening stretched on. Elaine eventually excused herself to the tent, her goodnight warm but exhausted. Mason watched her go, feeling a pang of longing for the comfort of sleep, but his mind was too wired, every nerve on edge. Robert and Tyler kept talking, their voices now a low murmur. Mason could tell they were trying not to wake Elaine, but their hushed conversation made the silence of the woods even more noticeable.

He stood up, deciding to stretch his legs, and wandered just outside the glow of the fire. The cold air nipped at his skin, and he shivered, hugging his arms around himself. The sky above was a vast expanse of stars, the kind of view you could never get in the city. He should have found it beautiful, awe-inspiring even, but instead, it felt like a reminder of how small and vulnerable they all were out here.

Mason turned his gaze back to the trees. The darkness there was absolute, the shadows deep, as if they held secrets just out of reach. He took a slow breath, trying to ease the tightness in his chest. But the feeling wouldn't leave him—that something was out there, watching, waiting.