Whatever this shit was had a distinct scent to it. It wasn’t unpleasant, just… strange.
After getting up, I braved the chill outside to use the bathroom. I probably would have made the world record for holding my breath before entering that outhouse.
Once back inside, I heated some water and took a quick bath. But calling it a bath was very generous, as it was just me cleaning the important bits and any part of my body where that weird stuff had been on my clothes and seeped through.
Once dressed, I scrubbed out my thermals and let them air dry over the deck banister outside.
I still had a slight headache from the half bottle of wine that I drank last night, but despite the minimal hangover, I probably had the best night's sleep I’d had in quite a while.
I had heard no creatures outside, or I’d been too out of it to hear them. But I was feeling more optimistic and courageous today, and decided I’d save the island trip across the way for tomorrow.
Today I was going to explore those trails that were behind the cabin.
After eating breakfast, I gathered up my gear, put on a pair of long pants and some thermals underneath, and laced up my hiking boots. Then I slipped on my red hooded peacoat.
I even found a tiny basket in the cabinet, and would use it to collect some flowers to dry out so I could take them home. And then I was off, rounding the back of the cabin and going to the first trail.
For the first hour, I stayed close enough to the cabin that I could still see it. I brought my sketchbook with me and doodled some of the natural flora I came across. The mushrooms, the wild berries, the wildflowers in all their vibrant colors.
I even found a black raspberry bush that I’d been able to snack on as I sketched.
I’d had to take my coat off as all the walking around had worked up a sweat, and finally went back to the cabin to grab some lunch before I trekked back into the woods and took the second trail I’d seen.
This one was a little rocky with a steep incline, but it led me to a gorgeous creek. I spent a good chunk of time there, continuing to sketch and even feeding crumbs of my muffin to a squirrel that was courageous enough to get close to me.
I’d been outside most of the day and lost track of time, and before I realized it, I was quite a way from the cabin and the sun was setting.
The temperature had dropped considerably and so I buttoned up my coat and put my hood on as I held the basket. I collected more wild black raspberries and decided I’d eat them with dinner tonight.
As I started making my way back, I realized I had wandered further off than I intended. Although I was still on the path, I could no longer see the cabin.
I glanced up at the sky, the waning sunlight peeking through the tops of the trees, casting shards of light.
Everything had since dried from the rainfall, and I could hear birds chirping overhead, and small wildlife scurrying around me.
I glanced at the ground to watch where I was going. Boulders, pebbles and debris from the weather scattered across the clearly unused trail.
And then I felt this tightening on the back of my neck, this prickling sensation that had me lifting my hand and rubbing my nape.
I stopped and glanced around, unsure what I felt, but knowing there was something out there. But there was nothing around. Despite that, I still felt this uneasiness of not being alone.
My heart was racing, my body knowing something I didn’t, that instinctual survival part of me was urging me to move quicker.
So I picked up my pace, feeling as if I were being watched.
A twig snapped in the distance, a flock of birds scattering overhead. I was panting now, running, my haste causing me to trip several times.
The heavy sensation around my body increased, and when I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see something following me, my foot got caught on an exposed root, taking me down.
I fell onto my hands and knees, the little basket dropping out of my grasp, my sketchpad and the berries scattering all over the place. I made a gasp of pain as pebbles dug into my palms, but I pushed the discomfort away and got back up, running again.
By now the sun was swiftly setting, dusk covering the sky. Because I was in the woods, everything seemed more ominous, more shadowy.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I should’ve been paying more attention, especially with the bear activity the other night. I only focused on getting back to the cabin, not caring about the basket or berries or even my sketchpad that was now left behind.
And then I heard it… something moving toward me. It was picking up its pace, twigs snapping under its heavy footfalls.