Unseen | Ghost x Soap

Chapter 70: Sight I Fear

Ghost's POV:

The forest was too quiet. Every step I took felt heavier, louder, the crunch of leaves and snap of twigs echoing in the hollow silence like gunshots. My chest was tight, my breath sharp in the cold morning air. I couldn't shake the unease building in my gut, growing stronger with every second that passed without a sign of him.

"Johnny!" I called again, my voice rough, strained.

Nothing.

I forced myself to keep moving, pushing past the branches that clawed at my arms and face. The sun was higher now, its light breaking through the canopy in jagged shafts that cut across the forest floor. It should've been comforting, that light, but it wasn't. It felt wrong here, muted somehow, like the valley itself didn't want it.

I couldn't stop. Not now. Not when the weight in my chest was threatening to crush me. My mind raced with every possible scenario, each one worse than the last. Maybe he'd tripped and twisted his ankle. Maybe he was hurt, too far to call back. Maybe—

No. I couldn't think like that. He was fine. He had to be.

But the nagging voice in the back of my mind wouldn't shut up. The one that kept asking why he hadn't answered. Why I hadn't seen him yet.

"Johnny, come on," I muttered under my breath, the words tumbling out more desperate than I meant them to. "Where the hell are you?"

I pushed further into the trees, my eyes scanning the ground for any sign of him. A footprint, a broken branch—anything. The forest stretched on endlessly, a maze of towering trunks and tangled roots, and the shadows between them seemed to shift, watching me.

Then I saw it.

A flash of something on the ground, just ahead. Not the natural greens and browns of the forest floor, but something darker. Something red.

My breath caught in my throat, my chest tightening painfully as I froze in place. For a moment, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It felt like the world had stopped spinning, like time itself had frozen around me.

No. No, no, no.

The thought hit me like a hammer, over and over again, pounding against my skull as I forced myself to take a step forward. And then another. And another.

I rounded a tree, and there he was.

Johnny.

He was slumped against the base of a thick trunk, his back resting against the rough bark. His head was tipped back slightly, his face pale, and his eyes were closed.

But it wasn't his face that froze me in place. It was the blood.

The crimson stain on his pants was impossible to miss, spreading across his upper thigh like a dark, jagged wound. His pants were ripped, the fabric torn away to reveal raw, bloodied flesh beneath. His hand was clutching weakly at the wound, his fingers trembling as he tried to stem the flow, but it wasn't enough. The blood kept coming, soaking into the dirt around him.

I felt the air leave my lungs in a sharp, brutal gasp.

"No," I whispered, the word falling from my lips like a prayer, desperate and pleading.

My feet moved before my brain could catch up, carrying me toward him in a blind rush. The world around me blurred—trees, shadows, light—it all faded into the background. All I could see was him.

"Johnny!" I shouted, my voice breaking as I ran.

The closer I got, the worse it was. His breaths were shallow, his chest barely rising and falling. His hand slipped slightly, his grip on his leg faltering as his head lolled to the side.

"No, no, no," I muttered under my breath, the words tumbling out in a frantic mantra. My heart was pounding in my chest, each beat a painful thud that echoed in my ears.

I didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

The ground beneath me was uneven, the roots and rocks threatening to trip me with every step, but I didn't care. All I cared about was getting to him.

My mind raced, spinning out in a thousand directions at once. How long had he been like this? How much blood had he lost? Could I stop it? Was there still time?

I shoved the thoughts away, forcing myself to focus on one thing: him.

"Hold on, Johnny," I said, my voice cracking. "I'm coming. Just hold on."

He didn't respond.

The silence was worse than anything else.

I was running faster now, my boots pounding against the ground as I closed the distance between us. My hands were shaking, the adrenaline surging through me in a wave that made everything feel too fast, too sharp.

"No," I said again, louder this time, like I could will him to hear me. "You're not doing this. You're not—"

My throat tightened, choking off the rest of the words.