The Woods ✔

Not There

Caden jumped down and landed next to the unmoving body. A low yowl slipped from his muzzle, an agonized sound full of self-loathing.

He hadn't been there, had snuck out of the cabin like some self-centered brat. He hadn't been there.

Not caring about the blood, he snuggled up against the soft, hazel coloured fur and buried his muzzle beneath the heavy head. He couldn't feel the steady rhythm of a heartbeat and the warmth seemed to leave the lifeless muscles rapidly. Petrified he tried to retain as much as possible.

He hadn't been there. Hadn't been there to protect. To warn. To safe a precious life.

He hated himself for it. He hated the world for being so cruel.

He moved closer to the familiar body. It was way bigger than him and it pained him immensely to realize that he wouldn't even be able to safe the mortal remains from the hunters. There was no way he could move over one thousand pounds of muscles and bones, about ten times his own body weight.

The fur would end up as someone's bedside carpet, the head stuffed and nailed to the wall.

Caden knew that Michael wasn't here anymore - the thought made his whole body quake in sorrow - but he didn't want him to end up as someone's trophy. Michael simply didn't deserve it.

Caden gently licked his cheek, tasting bitter blood on his tongue, before getting up and jumping to the ground. It was awfully painful to shift back. Everything in him longed to lay down next to Michael again and just drown in his grief.

Hot tears streamed down his face and he was barely able to breath through his clogged up throat. Everything hurt and he wanted to disappear, just not being anymore, not feeling this pain.

He staggered to the truck's door and didn't hesitate to punch his fist against the side window which cracked slightly. He repeated the process, not caring about the fresh blood dripping to the ground. The glass shattered and he opened the door from the inside. Gripping the seat he climbed inside and ripped off the plastic cover underneath the steering wheel. Tangled wires and cables appeared and he sorted through them.

He had read about that. It had seemed to be simple and he was sure that he could do it. He had to do it. For Michael. Because he hadn't been there.

His hands shook as he connected two wires and the engine roared to life. He didn't wait for the hunters to realize that their truck was stolen right this moment, and slammed his foot down on the pedal. The vehicle lunged forward and shot down the narrow path.

Caden gripped the steering wheel tightly and focused on getting as much distance between him and the humans as possible. They wouldn't take Michael away from him a second time.

Trees whizzed by, animals jumped out of the way and tears streamed down his cheeks. Cold determination numbed the pain slightly.

If Caden hadn't gone to town Michael perhaps wouldn't even have left the cabin. He would have never been in danger. He wouldn't have been murdered. He would be alive right now.

The truck jerked to a stop and Caden put on the hand brake to stop it from rolling away the moment he exited the cab.

The forest was eerily silent, most likely disturbed by him and the black vehicle. The sun was not more than an orange glow just above the horizon. Nighttime was coming.

A few feet away from the truck, Caden begun to dig. The soil was moist and soft but stones were everywhere, some as small as a bird's egg, some as big as his own head. He didn't care about his nails breaking or the blood oozing from the wounds on his knuckles, the only thing that mattered was the hole in front of him.

He lost track of time. His sight was blurry and his breath strained. He thought that he should dig a hole for himself, too. To let it swallow him wholly.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Not the exhausted burning of his muscles.

Not the pain in his chest.

Not the feeling of having lost everything.

Only shoveling up more and more earth.

It had to be a deep hole to prevent hungry animals from reaching the buried corpse. And so Caden dug deeper and deeper. Because it was the only thing he could do for Michael now. Because he hadn't been there.

He didn't know how many hours had passed when he finally was satisfied. To be honest, he didn't care. Time didn't matter.

He stared down at the hole that was filled with nothing but darkness. He hated himself for depositing Michael's body in it but it seemed even more heartless to leave him to the mercy of nature - and the hunters.

His legs barely carried his weight and his fingers trembled making it nearly impossible to open the back of the truck let alone lug a fully grown bear to the hole.

He nearly choked on his sobs upon seeing the unmoving body again.

"I'm so sorry!" he wailed brokenly. As gentle as possible he pushed the body from the truck down to the ground and sobbed uncontrollably when it just lay there completely still.

"I didn't mean to," he apologized and hugged the bear's big head, petting the soft fur between his ears.

Gradually, he managed to push him to the hole, growling and screaming in frustration, crying and sobbing in pain. Apologizing over and over again for not being there. For being a disappointment.

He removed twigs and fallen leaves that were tangled in the hazel coloured fur.

"Thank you, Michael, for saving me," he whispered and wiped away the tears, smearing blood across his face. "Thank you for everything you did for me."

He gently sifted his fingers through the matted fur.

"I'm sorry, I should have been there. I'm so sorry!"

He hugged the big body and cried into the thick fur, soaking it with salty tears. He hated himself for being so weak.

The hunters likely had already found out that their truck was missing. They were searching for it. He didn't want them to find Michael.

So he took a deep breath, squeezed the bear tightly for the last time and gave the heavy body a shove. It dropped into the hole and Caden clutched at his chest to ease the suffocating pain.

Slowly he started to fill up the hole again, regretting every handful of earth that moved Michael farther away from him. More than a few times he was tempted to jump down and rescue him from the cold, hard soil.

But he had to do this. No matter what.

He covered the freshly dug over earth with the stones, hoping to protect Michael's remains further. His hands closed around one of the last stones and he flinched back with a quiet hiss when a sharp edge cut open his palm. Blankly staring at the gash he wondered if he would bleed to death. Hopefully.

The sun began to rise, bathing the forest in her warm rays when Caden finally finished his work. The emptiness in his chest felt bottomless.

He hadn't been there and now he would leave Michael altogether.

He was a terrible creature. Because he hadn't been there.