Page 15

K endra taps on the glass and tips her chin toward the door. “Time to go back inside,” her muffled voice comes through the window.

Ghost lifts me as he stands, mask already back in place, his arm locked tight around my waist like he’s not ready to let go. I manage a glance over his shoulder, but the woods have turned into an abyss—dark and endless.

Inside, the shift to awkwardness is instant. Ghost keeps me close, his fingers flexing slightly against my hip like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. My soaked panties stick uncomfortably, and the realization hits like a slap— they know .

Nate certainly knows. He’s still blushing, staying quiet and desperately avoiding eye contact.

I want a shower and maybe an exorcism.

But Dev and Kendra are all hyped up.

“Alright, listen up!” she claps her hands together. “Local lore says once night falls in these mountains, you shut every window, pull the blinds, and whatever the hell you hear outside? You ignore it and let it pass.”

I raise an eyebrow and glance at Ghost. “That’s exactly what Mark said earlier.”

“Yeah,” Ghost mutters, “and every Reddit thread about this place. Don’t get a boner.”

“Funny coming from you,” I retort, unable to help myself. His dick is still outlined it his pants like it has something to say.

Dev zooms in his camera on us like he’s filming a reality show meltdown. “Both of you—focus. We’re here to document weird shit, not fuck in the woods like horny teens.”

Ghost shrugs. “Trying to multitask, man.”

And who would’ve thought that weird shit from the woods would be a cockblock?

I almost say it out loud, because it’s just too perfect of a sick burn, but Kendra stops her feet, killing the momentum.

“Hello? I’m serious,” she whines, already stalking to the nearest window. With a sharp snap, she yanks the blinds shut. “We’re not messing around. Don’t open anything. No matter what.”

So we go through the house, locking both doors, drawing every blind while Dev’s camera keeps rolling.

At first, it’s light—some laughs, dramatic commentary, Dev lowering his voice in a dead-on Ghost impression.

But then we start filming the darker spots: the crack beneath the front door, the creaking wooden stairs, the hallways leading to empty rooms, closets left ajar.

The vibe changes.

Something about seeing the space through a lens makes it worse.

More ominous. Shadows stretch too far, they shift as we move.

Every corner feels a little darker now, the floorboards groaning underneath our feet like a warning.

The lights flicker in a way that doesn’t feel…

natural. Like something moved between them.

Even the air feels wrong. Heavy. Charged. As if it’s holding its breath.

Then we hear it again.

That whistle.

But it’s much more distant than before.

My stomach clenches. “Did you—”

Kendra shushes me, wide-eyed.

“Could be the wind,” Dev whispers as he slowly pans the camera toward the back door.

The whistle comes again, so quiet I gaslight myself that I imagined it.

“It seems farther away,” I say quietly.

“Actually, it’s the opposite, according to the locals,” Nate speaks up, and I immediately wish he stayed silent. “The more distant the sound, the closer it is.”

I blink at him. “Wow, thanks for that, Nate!”

I find myself drifting toward Ghost without meaning to, pulled like a magnet.

His presence feels like gravity—solid, calm, grounded.

Maybe it’s because he’s the only one who seems to think all of this is just some made-up campfire bullshit—even if it’s just a pose.

Or maybe because he’s the strongest one here—and he promised to protect me, right?

“Oh? Bunny’s scared?” He chuckles, smooth and quiet, then loops an arm around my waist, dragging me flush against him.

I let out a sharp breath, hands pressed to his chest—solid muscle under soft cotton. He smells like cedar with faint smoke, and something warm and unmistakably male.

“You can hold onto me all you want,” he murmurs. “I like when you’re clingy.”

I shove him, face burning. “You’re the worst.”

Before he can reply—

BANG.

A heavy thud shakes the walls. Loud. Deep. Wrong. Like something heavy slamming against the roof of the house.

I jump, gripping the front of Ghost’s hoodie. “You guys are fucking with me!”

But Nate laughs nervously without humor. Dev’s camera is still steady, his face unreadable. Kendra looks pale.

“That wasn’t you?” she asks sharply.

Dev shrugs. “It’s probably just the house settling.”

BANG.

The next bang is even louder, like it came from the floor itself. Definitely not settling.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I hate this.”

Ghost’s arm tightens around me. His voice drops near my ear. “Told you, sweetheart, just ignore it.”

Easier said than done. I’ve never been more scared in my entire life.

Then the howling starts.

It doesn’t sound like wolves. It doesn’t sound like anything that should exist in nature. It starts low—windy, maybe—but then it layers, curls into something high and almost human, like someone screaming underwater.

The sound swells. Crashes. Lingers.

The air presses in like lungs too full.

Then—

Scratching.

Faint. One side of the house.

Then the other.

Back again.

Circling.

Searching for the way in.

Kendra gasps. “What the actual fuck.”

Dev hasn’t stopped filming. His camera pans slowly toward the back window—just in time to catch a shape moving past the glass. A blur of motion. Too tall.

I choke on my breath and squeeze my eyes shut. I do not want to see.

Nate breathes heavily as he reminds us. “Nobody open the blinds. Nobody look.”

Whispers tickle the edges of the room. Light, like leaves brushing glass. But they’re not in English. Or maybe they are, but twisted—drawn out and dragged through static.

Then—

Silence.

Flat and brutal. The kind that makes your ears ring.

We don’t speak.

We barely have a heartbeat.

Minutes pass like molasses.

Eventually, the cicadas outside return to singing. Normal. Almost too normal.

“More drinks, yes?” Dev proposes. He shuts off his camera before walking towards the table.

Nate follows.

I suck in a shaky breath and slowly peel myself from Ghost. My legs feel like jelly, my head still spinning. And I really need to shower.

Kendra meets my gaze, her usual bravado completely gone, “I’m good.”

I nod, agreeing. Then I whisper, “Bathroom? I’m not going upstairs alone.”

Kendra hugs herself. “Yeah, same.”

Girl code. Underlined and bolded.

The shower is cold and refreshing, but it doesn’t help. I haven’t had this dreadful feeling since I saw my first horror movie too early in life. I peek through the curtain more than once.

There’s nothing there. Just Kendra, perched on the toilet lid, scrolling silently through her phone.

Gosh, this is going to be a long night.

She takes her turn next while I go through my nighttime skincare routine, trying to make myself feel human.

Every time I meet my own eyes in the mirror, I flinch a little.

The adrenaline is pumping, as I expect to see something standing right behind me.

Or worse, my own reflection to break the 4 th wall.

Shut up! We don’t think about it.

We dry off, get dressed in our PJs, and crawl into bed in the same room. No argument. No teasing. We don’t want to be alone.

The bedside lamp stays on.

We talk briefly as she tries to fish for details about Ghost. I respond in half-sentences, doing my best to ditch the subject as fast as possible.

I’m too confused about my feelings to even think about it right now.

I mean, our conversation on the porch is a lot to process.

Not to mention how shaken I still am after what transpired next.

We hear guys in the hallway as they come upstairs and get ready for bed, which makes her eventually back off the subject.

Ghost sends me a goodnight text.

Then, quiet. Just a white noise of cicadas singing outside.

I’m not sure when exactly, but Kendra falls asleep. She’s breathing softly beside me, her back turned, lost to whatever peaceful dreamland I wish I could be in.

I lie awake, staring up at the ceiling, listening for anything out of the ordinary. The gentle summer wind. The minimal creaks of the old wood. The breathy silence between.

That whistle is still buried in my head like a splinter.

And the shadow on Dev’s camera?

It wasn’t staged.

None of it was.

Suddenly, I hear it. That dragging noise again. Like nails against the chalkboard, except it’s on very low volume.

I tell myself it’s just a branch scraping the siding. Just the wind. Just nerves. But when it shifts right beneath the bedroom window, I can’t ignore it anymore.

I look over at Kendra. She looks so peaceful that I have no heart to wake her. I’m too big of a chicken to go check behind the blinds, either. Because it feels like it wants me to. Like it knows we’re not supposed to be here.

Sighing, I shift onto my side, my back facing the window.

A whisper pierces through the night. Behind me, right outside. Low. Crooning. Like someone chanting over and over, but the sound is too warped to make out precisely.

My throat closes up.

I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s nothing. Just my imagination.

Bunny .

My breath catches. The sound is soft, almost polite. But it’s wrong. A crawling, sinking feeling spreads through my stomach.

It knows my name.

With my heart hammering in my chest, I pull the covers aside, grab my phone, and decide to go sit in the hallway, far away from any windows.

It’s dark as a demon’s asshole in the hallway so I don’t expect to bump into anyone. But one of the bedroom doors is cracked open, and as my eyes get used to the lack of light, I make out an outline of the person in the distance.

Tall. Broad shoulders. I’d recognize him anywhere.

Ghost is standing near the stairs, back toward me at first, his head tilted like he’s listening for something. I barely register the fact that he’s not wearing his mask before he turns.

“What are you doing, little bunny?”

I almost forget about everything as he approaches, and his facial features become clearer.

And oh. Oh .