Stop… stop already. Why won't you stop looking?
The thought echoed in Darren's head.
He was in a forest—cold and haunting. The sun was sinking near the edge of the horizon, its light stretching thin and crooked through the trees as darkness slowly spread. A cold wind brushed against the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.
It was scary.
In front of him stood a deer.
Its coat was pale brown, almost gray in the fading light, its body half-hidden behind a thin line of brush. It wasn't grazing. It wasn't moving.
It was just standing there.
Looking at him.
"That's kind of weird," Charlie said, Darren's best friend standing beside him. "Why won't it stop staring?"
Charlie shifted awkwardly. "Hello? Hello…?" he called out, as if the deer might understand.
Time felt wrong. Slower. Every second stretched, every minute dragging on. The distance between Darren and the deer felt closer somehow—even though the animal hadn't moved at all.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Crack.
The sound snapped through the woods.
Eventually, the deer turned.
It slipped silently into the trees.
No crashing branches.
No hurried footsteps.
Just… gone.
Darren let out a breath and sighed in relief.
"Man, that was weird, right?" Charlie said, tapping Darren's shoulder. "What did we even do to it? We were just walking by."
"Yeah…" Darren replied. "Its eyes—I don't know…. It… it just didn't feel friendly."
Charlie shrugged. "Probably normal, right? Maybe deer out here just do that to hikers." He laughed softly. "Still weird, though."
Darren nodded and forced a small laugh.
But something about it stuck with him. The way the deer had looked at him—so still, so focused—and the way it had left so smoothly clung to his thoughts longer than it should have.
"Or maybe…" Charlie said suddenly, his tone shifting.
"Maybe what?" Darren asked.
"We're in the Appalachian Mountains, right?" Charlie said. "What if the legends people talk about are real? What if the stuff on TikTok isn't all fake?" He nudged Darren lightly. "You ever heard of the Not-Deer?"
Darren sighed. He didn't believe in that kind of stuff, and he really didn't want to think about it now—alone in the woods, this close to dark.
"Just kidding," Charlie said quickly, laughing it off. "Those stories are just made up to scare tourists. I'm sure it's nothing."
They continued down the trail, heading back toward where they'd set up their tents.
"'Never step off the Appalachian trail at night,'" Charlie added. "People say that like it means something. What's the difference on or off the trail? There aren't even fences." He laughed again.
Then he slowed and sighed. "Anyway… I gotta pee."
Charlie glanced around. "That means I gotta step off the trail. Just…. wait here, alright? I'll be back in a second."
He gave Darren a light tap on the shoulder before disappearing into the trees.
Darren stood there alone.
The wind picked up, cold against the back of his neck. The last traces of light faded as thick clouds slid over the moon, smothering what little light remained.
He glanced off the trail.
Trees crowded in every direction—tall trunks packed close together, branches heavy with leaves. Bushes tangled at their bases, forming dark, uneven shapes that swallowed the ground beneath them. Beyond the narrow trail, the forest was nothing but shadow.
Too dark.
So dark he couldn't see more than a few feet in.
It felt like the woods didn't end—like they went on forever, closing in the farther he looked.
I shouldn't have come here, Darren thought.
Then something caught his eye on the trail ahead.
Wait… what is that?
A faint glint reflected back at him from the dirt, slightly off to the right side of the path. Just a flicker—easy to miss—but it caught the beam of his flashlight at the wrong angle.
Darren frowned and stepped closer.
The shape became clearer with each step.
He crouched and brushed away the dirt.
Cloth.
There was a hole in the middle, the material bent and worn where something had pressed into it. As more dirt fell away, a badge came into view—metal, dull but unmistakable.
A hat.
A police hat.
It looked new. The fabric wasn't faded, the badge still firmly attached. It couldn't have been here long. Maybe not even a week.
He picked it up slowly and turned it over in his hands.
Something about it didn't feel right.
What would a police officer be doing out here?
"Ugh—" a voice came from behind him.
Charlie stepped back onto the trail, laughing. "Dude, the birds out there scared the hell out of me. They just flew off all at once. Didn't even know they were there."
As Charlie spoke, Darren glanced toward the forest to his left.
Birds were still flying up—lots of them—wings beating hard against the air.
Was that really just from Charlie peeing?
"Hey, man," Charlie said. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
Darren hesitated. "Uh… nothing. I… uh. I was just thinking."
Charlie stepped closer and noticed what Darren was holding.
"Wait… is that a police hat?"
"Yeah," Darren said. "I found it on the trail."
Charlie frowned. "Wait.. You don't think—"
"That it's connected to the girl who went missing last week?" Darren finished quietly. "I don't know. West Virginia's big…. It could be unrelated."
But the memory surfaced anyway.
That morning, on the drive up here—two police cars speeding past them.
The news.
A girl named Emma.
Gone.
Maybe this isn't random…
Darren's grip tightened around the hat.
Deep down, he had a bad feeling.
"Come on," Darren sighed, standing up. He glanced once more at the birds still circling and disappearing into the trees, then forced himself to look away.
"Let's go. Jenna and the others are probably already back by now."
Charlie nodded.
They followed the trail until the trees opened slightly.
Their campsite sat just off the path, close to a narrow natural stream. Water slid quietly over rocks, reflecting the dim light of the sky. The tents were pitched neatly, tucked between trees for cover—good views, easy access to water.
Too quiet.
Darren set his bag down and sat beside the campfire ring. After a moment, he struck the lighter and slowly brought the fire to life. Flames flickered, casting uneven shadows across the tents and surrounding trees.
He looked around.
No Jenna.
No Ava.
No Stacy.
No James.
They had said they'd only be gone for about an hour.
Darren pulled out his phone and checked the time.
7:49 PM.
His stomach tightened.
That was way too late.
Where are they?
Why aren't they back yet?
The fire crackled softly beside him, but it did nothing to warm the growing unease in his chest.
Something was wrong.
And this was only night one.