Caleb's body shivers uncontrollably. His palms scrape against the cold dirt, his knees sting, and blood trickles slowly from his skin. But the pain is nothing compared to the images burned into his mind—the hanging bodies, their lifeless eyes, the missing legs.
He can't even scream.
His breathing is shallow, eyes wide and unfocused, until—
A sudden flash of white light blinds him.
"Hey! Oh my god—are you alright?" a voice calls out, panicked but oddly gentle.
Caleb squints, the flashlight illuminating the concerned face of a boy. He looks young—maybe even younger than Caleb. Pale skin, dark eyes, a mop of messy black hair falling into his face. He drops to his knees beside Caleb, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You're bleeding," the boy mutters, glancing at Caleb's arms. "Hold on—I'll help you."
Without waiting for permission, the boy lifts Caleb gently and places him back into the wheelchair, careful not to touch his wounds. Caleb still says nothing. His mouth moves, but no sound comes out. His mind is a blur of terror and questions.
"Let's get you somewhere safe," the boy says, wheeling him away from the dark woods. "I'm the guide assigned to this forest. We've got a quarter not far from here—don't worry, it's safe."
The air grows cooler as they move, silence wrapping around them like a fog. The fire from the camp is now only a glow behind the trees.
Caleb clutches the armrests tightly, trying to ground himself.
The boy glances down at him as they walk. "Can you hear me? Are you hurt anywhere badly?"
Caleb finally manages to whisper, "I..am fine..."
"I see," the boy says softly. "You shouldn't have wandered in. But it's alright now."
The building they reach is a small forest ranger's quarter—wooden, old, but standing strong among the trees. The boy wheels Caleb up the ramp and onto the porch, then opens the door.
A dim bulb buzzes above as he pushes Caleb inside. The place smells like old wood and medicine. Shelves of tools line the walls. There's a small infirmary section on the left, with a few chairs and a first-aid station.
Caleb sits there, trembling, heart still racing. For a moment, everything is still.
Then he lifts his head. "Y-Your name…?"
The boy pauses at the door.
"What's your name?" Caleb repeats, his voice hoarse.
The boy turns slightly, shadows falling across his face.
"…Noah," he says at last. Then, without another word, he slips out the door and disappears into the night.
Caleb blinks. "Wait—Noah?"
But he's already gone.
Before Caleb can process it, the front door slams open. His bodyguard rushes in, panting. "Caleb!"
The man falls to his knees beside the chair, gripping Caleb's arms gently. "Are you okay? What the hell happened? I've been looking everywhere—there's blood on the trees, the principal—she's gone! What did you see?!"
Caleb stares at him, eyes wide and haunted. "They're all… they're all dead…"
The words barely leave his lips before his voice cracks, breaking into sobs.
"Easy," the bodyguard murmurs, pulling him into a half-embrace. "You're okay now. We'll figure this out."
He helps Caleb out of the wheelchair and onto a low bench. A forest quarter worker rushes over, a woman in her forties with a white apron and a concerned expression. "Oh dear, he's hurt. Let me see his knees and wrists."
She begins disinfecting his wounds gently with cotton and bandages, murmuring soft comforts under her breath.
The bodyguard leans close, lowering his voice. "How did you even get here? I left you by the fire. You were gone when I came back."
Caleb swallows hard. "A guide. He found me… took me here."
"What guide?" the woman asks, taping a bandage on his wrist.
"His name was Noah," Caleb replies softly.
The woman pauses.
Slowly, she looks up, confusion creasing her face. "Noah?"
Caleb nods.
"There's no one named Noah working here," she says, voice laced with unease. "We haven't had a guide by that name in years."
The room goes still.
Caleb stiffens, his skin turning cold again.
"…What?"
"I know every worker assigned to this region. There's no Noah," she says again, stepping back slowly. "You must be mistaken."
But Caleb knows what he heard.
He knows the name.
And the worst part?
Somewhere deep down, it doesn't feel unfamiliar.
Not at all.