Whispers in the Dark

Friends And Nightmares

There was once a time where I was safe. With friends that were always happy to see me and who would always protect me, or at least that's what I thought. The nightmares that have plagued me for almost a year now hint at otherwise. They warn of betrayal and manipulation - of death. They scared me at first, made me wary of all those I hold close to me. Then I realised I didn't recognise those 'friends' in the nightmares, so I grew to ignore them. However, the nagging of paranoia still crept up on me every now and again.

Especially now.

The sound of blistering winds and cawing crows filled the air around me, something that I quickly grew used to as I walked through the fog-filled woods that my friends dragged me to for a simple camping trip. Despite mine and some other complaints about the weather turning, the 'leader' of our friendship persisted and eventually lead us to the campsite. And now here we were, or rather here I was, looking for firewood as the skies threatened to pour down on me. A sigh left my lips as I bent down to grab another dry branch that would prove useful for the fire for only a few moments, the small bundle in my arm was growing but I knew that our lovely 'leader' would complain that I collected so little even if I had been out here alone for only around ten minutes now.

The snapping of small twigs sounded out, alerting me to look into the direction it came from. The sound was too delicate to have been made by a human's weight, and I was proven right when a fox scurried along. A small smile made its way to my lips as I watched the creature run without a care in the world. I wish I could be like that. Another sound made me alert once again, this time it was someone's voice calling my name but it was more like a whisper on the wind, like a memory echoing and trying to reach out to me. I could barely identify the voice that called out, whoever's voice it was, it was male and baritone in nature. The hushed sound, being drowned out by distance and the strong winds, was surprisingly comforting as if it was an old friend greeting me.

I think that's what disturbed me the most. The odd comfort of a voice I didn't recognise but somehow my body knew as if I had at least heard the voice before. And I would say that the voice brought a familiar face to it, though I doubted that he'd be in these woods and doubted even more that he'd so much as know my name. I was a nobody, even on the internet where anyone could be anyone. I had a very small presence even on a platform that I'd been using for years now since I was a very young teen if I recalled correctly.

My feet slowly made their way back as the voice drew closer as if the owner was searching for me. My name was more defined with each call. It was terrifying. My breath caught in the back of my throat as I hid behind a tree, my gaze never leaving the direction of the voice's calls. I didn't dare turn around and run in fear that I'd end up hopelessly lost and too far away from the trail I had been following and too far away from the camp for my friends to hear my cries of help.

Footsteps drew closer and closer, the sound of the wind that proceeded to pick up made it hard to pinpoint where they came from but they were far too close for me to be comfortable. A presence loomed behind me, beckoning for me to look.

A beckoning I listened to, swinging my head around and gandering at the person who tried to scare me. My quick actions caused them to jump and yelp in response, their clumsiness made them quickly ending up on the floor glaring playfully up at me. I should've known it was Klaus.

Klaus Schmidt, my friend and coworker for around three years now. He was a fairly attractive man, slightly muscular and lucky, with him being a doctor, he had the brains to match. His blonde hair and blue eyes were something most girls were attracted to, his perverse personality, however, was not. He always tried to use his Germanic charm on me but because I knew him - and his squeamish tendencies around silly little things like worms - it never worked.