Chapter 91: IN THE WOODS

Arianna

The rough fabric of the blindfold scratched against my skin as the car shuddered to a halt.

My heart was a trapped bird, fluttering desperately against my ribs. Vincent hadn’t spoken a word since tying it around my eyes, a silence that was both intriguing and unnerving.

The engine died, and the sudden hush of the forest pressed in, thick and heavy. He guided me out, the gravel crunching beneath my feet, his hand warm and possessive, gripping mine tighter than usual.

We walked for what felt like an eternity, the forest floor uneven, roots snagging at my ankles. The air grew colder, the smell of damp earth and decaying leaves permeating everything. After what seemed like a good twenty minutes, he stopped.

“Stay here for a moment,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my ear.

Then, just as quickly as he’d arrived, his hand released mine, the space beside me instantly feeling cold and vast. I could hear him moving, the crunching of leaves and twigs fading into the distance.

My senses were heightened, each rustle and snap amplifying in the deafening silence.

I wanted to call out to him, to ask him what was happening; however, curiosity kept me silent. A few more minutes passed, the anticipation growing stronger. It was then that I finally ripped the blindfold from my eyes and blinked, adjusting to the surrounding darkness.

The trees loomed like skeletal giants, their branches intertwined, creating a suffocating canopy overhead. The faint moonlight struggled to penetrate, leaving pockets of impenetrable shadow.

Where was he?

I called out his name, “Vince?” My voice was thin and fragile, swallowed by the vastness of the woods.

There was no answer, only the rustling of unseen creatures and the mournful hoot of an owl.

Panic, cold and sharp, began to creep in, as I called out again, my voice a little louder, and more desperate. Still nothing.

He wouldn’t leave me here alone, would he? It wasn’t his usual playful prank. After another ten minutes of waiting, the fear began to turn to a gnawing dread.

He’d taken my phone, my bag – everything.

The thought hit me like a physical blow, that he had actually left me, and a sickening wave of betrayal washed through me.

Turning, I began to walk back the way we had come, following the barely visible path through the trees, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The woods seemed to shift and twist around me, the trees morphing into grotesque shapes in the shadows.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

“Vince?” I called again, my voice trembling, my eyes searching desperately through the gloom.

There was no response, only the sound of a twig breaking again, closer this time, accompanied by the faint scuffing of footsteps.

The rational part of me knew that this was a new presence, someone else, something other than Vince.

An ugly fear bubbled up, and I lunged forward blindly, my legs pumping, adrenaline flooding my veins.

“This isn’t funny, Vince!” I shouted, my voice ragged.

But again, no one answered; only the forest seemed to mock me with its rustling leaves and snapping branches.

I ran until my lungs burned, and my legs screamed in protest. Just when I thought I couldn’t take another step, I saw it—a faint glimmer of light through the trees.

I stumbled towards it, my hope flickering like the candle flame I now saw in the distance.

As I got closer, the shape began to solidify; it was a church, old and weathered, its stone walls a ghostly grey in the moonlight.

It was a bizarre place for a church, secluded and seemingly forgotten by time.

The gothic architecture sent a shiver down my spine, but it was the only sign of civilization, and I had no other choice.

Hesitantly, I approached the large, wooden door, its surface worn smooth with age and dampness.

With shaky fingers, I knocked, the sound echoing eerily through the silent night. There was no response. I knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing.

I tried the handle, half expecting it to be locked, but it clicked open beneath my hand.

Cautiously, I pushed it open and stepped inside. Rows of pews stretched out before me, disappearing into the shadows.

At the far end, an altar was bathed in the soft, flickering glow of countless candles, creating an ethereal, almost unsettling atmosphere.

The air was heavy with the scent of old wax and something else; something musty and ancient.

“Why is a church like this so remote and creepy?” I murmured to myself, my voice barely a whisper.

The whole place felt like it had been ripped from the pages of a dark fairytale, a place of forgotten secrets and grim promises.

It was then that I saw it – a figure emerging from a dark passageway to the side of the altar.

He was dressed in the white robes of a priest, the colour stark against the dim light. A wave of relief washed over me. Here was help.

A smile touched my lips as I approached him. “Hey, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” I began, my voice trembling a little. “I was passing by and got lost. Can you help me find a way out or let me burrow a phone to call a friend?”

The priest said nothing, his gaze fixed on me. He moved slowly towards the altar and stood before it, his stillness unnerving.

This was not the response I expected.

His dark eyes stared at me as if he was trying to read my soul.

I suddenly felt like I was trapped in a horror movie, and the hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice low and raspy, “Arianna.”

My breath caught in my throat. He knew my name, and the friendly smile that had been playing on my lips died.

I took a step back, my balance momentarily faltering.

“H-how do you know my name?” I stammered, the fear now becoming a palpable thing.

He didn’t answer, and instead, he smiled, a slow, unnervingly triumphant smile, as if he had been waiting for me all along.

Okay, this was getting too weird, I needed to get out of here, and fast.

I spun around, ready to flee, but I stumbled back straight into a wall. A hard, warm wall that pressed against my back, sending a jolt of panic through me.

A sharp, cold edge pressed against my throat, the sting of steel making me gasp. A strong arm snaked around my waist, yanking me back against the imposing force of this unknown body. The knife, held with frightening precision, dug deeper, sending a thin line of blood trickling down my skin.

And the priest, still standing by the altar, was still smiling.