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4. the forest

By the time the detective left the house, night had already fell, shrouding Edgecomb in its darkness. The moon was covered by thick clouds so the only light was a faint wispy glow behind them. In the darkness, he was sure to step carefully, not wanting to hurt his legs. They were already aching from walking all day. As if on cue, he heard his stomach growl and he knew he needed to eat and rest. He looked forward, searching for Melanie. She sat in the same position she was in when he left her but this time she wasn't alone. A group of men sat around her, poking and prodding her. The detective approached quickly but quietly.

"Evening gentlemen. Is there a problem here?" The detective asked, setting his luggage aside as he stared at the group of men. He saw Melanie's look of relief on her face and knew he made it just in time.

"No, no problem." One of them stood up and answered. "We were just talking to her."

"I don't think she wants to talk to you. Best you be on your way." The detective said, standing firmly.

"Best you mind your business stranger." The man who talked earlier snapped at the detective, stepping closer.

"I don't want any trouble." The detective said, putting his hands on hips, revealing his holster. The man's courage faded as soon as he saw the detective's black firearm. "Go home..." The detective stated plainly. The man turned around and left, muttering curses under his breath. His crew following close behind.

"Thank you." Melanie said, standing up from the wall. She patted her seat to remove any dust or debris and straightened up looking up at the detective.

"Why didn't you just tell them to leave you alone?" The detective asked, staring down at her. She shrugged her shoulders, looking away from him, kicking the dirt nonchalantly.

"You don't know the men here...what they do to girls like me..." Melanie said, her voice breaking softly.

"What do you mean?" The detective asked, putting his hand in coat pocket and rubbing his notepad. "What do they do?"

"Let's just say, Esme wasn't the first girl to go missing."

"Who was?" The detective asked, more softly this time, careful not to make the poor girl cry. Melanie looked up from the ground, tears in her eyes and the detective decided to leave it alone.

"My mother..." Melanie answered after a long time. "She disappeared ten years ago. It broke my father's heart. He's never been the same since."

"I'm sorry..." The detective said, rubbing Melanie's shoulder softly. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Suddenly the detective felt a strange feeling. The same one he felt when he first arrived on this island. The one that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and sent shivers down his spine. He turned his head and looked behind him, where there was just endless miles of forest.

"Do you feel it too?" Melanie asked, pulling him closer. The detective jerked his head forward, looking down at the redheaded girl. Her eyes were wide with fear and anxiousness. She stood up on her tiptoes, her face inches from his. He could feel her warm breath as she whispered. "There's someone watching us."

The detective's blood ran ice cold. He gulped. He could feel every one of his nerves begging him to run but he stayed frozen in his spot. Never in all his lifetime had had had he felt like this before. He turned away from Melanie and stared back into the forest, into the pitch darkness. As he squinted his eyes, trying to look closer and harder at the trees, trying to discern what was and what wasn't, he could almost feel someone staring back. Just then he heard a twig snap inside the forest.

"Melanie, get behind me." The detective muttered, pushing her behind him as she gasped in shock and fear. He dropped his luggage and fumbled with his holster, quickly pulling out his black handgun and pointing it into the forest. "Who are you? Show yourself. Come out with your hands up." The detective's finger was itching the trigger as his blood rushed through his veins. Beads of sweat began to form on the ridge of his brow.

Suddenly, the detective's world was lit up by a blinding white light, followed by the roar of an unearthly monster. He could feel it careening it towards him with sinister speed, ready to completely devour him. And just for a moment, as the light brightened everything around him, he saw the distinct silhouette of a man standing in the forest. He raised his hand to cover his face from the white flash of the monster's glaring eyes. "Jesus Christ!" He shouted. But nothing happened. And, as suddenly as it came, the light vanished.

"Detective?" The detective opened his eyes and saw a car parked on the road in front of him. Munroe stepped out of it, his uniform on and his eyes wide with concern. "Is everything alright?" Munroe asked, gesturing towards the gun in the detective's hand. The detective breathed heavily, staring back into the forest where he heard the twig snap. "What are you looking at, detective?"

"We heard someone inside." Melanie spoke for him as the he continued to gaze into the dark trees. She was holding his hand, pulling him back softly.

"Could just be an animal?" Munroe suggested. The detective shook his head, unconvinced. He knew what he saw and it wasn't an animal. It was a man.

"Stay here with Melanie." The detective said, pulling his hand away from hers. He moved forward, keeping his gun to his side and pulling out a small torch with his other hand. He shined it into the forest, slowly making his way inside.

"Detective wait! It's not safe for you to go alone." Munroe called after him. "Mel get in the car. You'll be safe inside." He ordered. The detective heard the car door open and close and then he heard Munroe's heavy footsteps behind him.

The detective walked towards where he guessed the man that he saw was standing. He shined his torch this way and that way, careful not to miss anything that could be evidence. He didn't get far before he realized that whoever had been here was long gone now and there was no way of going after him. He turned back to Munroe who stood right behind him.

"What did I tell you?" Munroe said, shrugging his shoulders. "Just an animal." But the detective knew better. Because Munroe didn't see what he saw. The detective stared closely at a protruding branch just past Munroe. He shined his torch at the branch and smirked.

"Do animals here wear clothes?" The detective asked, pointing behind Munroe, who furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. The detective pushed past him towards the protruding branch and picked off a small piece of fabric that had caught on the bark. He shined the torch on it, scanning and analyzing it. It was a light blue fibre, part of a larger sweater or jumper. He showed it to Munroe, who whistled in a low voice, impressed.

"Well, I'll be damned." Munroe said, putting his hands on his hips. "Guess you were right. Maybe there's footprints or something."

"We won't find anything with this much darkness. Let's come back in the morning, when there's more light." The detective suggested, still hungry and tired. Munroe nodded and the two of them left the thick brush, back onto the dirt road where Munroe's car was parked.