The Watcher

Eden's fingers trembled as she forced the tent poles into place, trying to concentrate only on the task at hand. The whisper still coiled in her ears like smoke, lingering even after silence had long since replaced the sound... It took a surprisingly long time to get the tent up and set up the rest of her campsite. She swallowed hard, telling herself it was just the wind whistling through the trees.

But the wind had never known her name.

By the time her tent stood firm on the ground and her sleeping bag had been set up how she liked it, dusk had descended over the forest. The trees now standing like black pillars, the branches stretching overhead blocking out most of what little light remained in her small clearing. Eden used the waning light to look for fire wood, collecting a few good armfuls of dry wood, she set herself to work and coaxed a small fire to life a couple of feet from the open mouth of her tent. The flames lapped eagerly over the dry timber, the light of the fire pushed the darkness back by a few feet, she closed her eyes, basking in the heat and allowing the peaceful sounds of the fire crackling to calm her over stimulated mind and body.

She pulled a tin of beans and bread from her pack, warmed them on the fire and ate her meagre meal in deliberate mechanical bites. The fires glow licked across her face as she stared into it, hypnotized whilst she finished the last few mouthfuls of her food... Fire had become her ritual recently, the way she cleansed the bad things from her life.

A lump formed in her throat, tears pricked in her eyes for the first time as the memory arose, unbidden, standing barefoot in her back garden, 5 days after everything shattered. The pile of wedding catalogues, guest lists, invitations, and wedding favours waiting for tables that would never be set. She had drenched them all in lighter fluid, struck a long cooking match, and watched it all burn, until only ashes remained.

She remembered the neighbours watching from their windows, nosy as ever, as she stood there in her nightgown, mesmerized by how quickly these physical representations of her relationship dissolved into nothing. She had felt only release, It was as if every life Ben ever told her, every illusion of having Ava as the perfect sister was finally being brought to her conscious mind and destroyed in the same breath.. She didn't cry that day, She hadn't cried at all. But she cried there, in the place that was her true home, no matter how on edge she was feeling at that moment. She finally let it out.

So, now, here in the Mountains, another fire burned before her, smaller and much more humble, with no anger in the ignition, but no less vital to her sanity. She had nothing left of that old life now, tears streamed unchecked down her cool cheeks as she looked at her surroundings, This tent, her pack, the trail and the restless exhaustion of her broken heart, that's all she had left.

But also the strange certainty that she wasn't alone.

She set the empty bean tin down, grabbed a long stick and poked at the dying embers of the fire until they glowed a deep crimson, the tears dried on her face and she allowed herself to feel relief after finally being able to cry.

She stood up and stretched, deciding to let the fire die out on its own and slipped into her tent. The thin khaki canvas glowed faintly after she zipped up the entrance, the fire outside still pulsing like a calm heartbeat and letting off a subtle warmth.

After settling herself down in her sleeping bag with a warm cup of tea she had heated on the dying fire, she pulled her old, battered diary from her pack, she flicked through it, almost to the end, and found a blank page, she paused, trying to find the words to describe what she had experienced.

I heard him tonight

The words bled into the paper, writing about it making it seem more real, she hesitated, listening to the silenec outside Asif for reassurance, the wrote faster, her hand not being able to keep up with her thoughts.

It wasn't a dream, He said my name, it was the same voice, i've heard it before. The same one that has followed me since my 21st.

Her hand faltered as she tried to find the words to express exactly what she was feeling.

I should of been afraid, I was afraid, it terrified me... But I think What's scaring me most is.. I liked it, I liked the way he said my name... I don't know how to describe it, but it made me feel... alive.

Eden stared at the confession she had just made to herself until the words blurred together on the page. She snapped the diary shut hastily, her cheeks flushed despite the cold air now seeping through the vent of her tent. She tried to shake the conflicting feelings from her mind and lay down to sleep, planning to get up early and get a full days hiking in.

Sleep came in fits and bursts, broken by the hum of insects and the occasional hoot of an owl, finally, she felt her body grow heavy and slipped into a heavy sleep, and then her dreams took her to another world.

The forest shone silver under a glowing moon. She stood barefoot on the trail, her long mahogany hair gently fluttering around her shoulders. shadows were stretching long and sharp around the bases of the tall trees. The shadows began gathering together inbetween two particularly large oak trees and coiled together like smoke and then, from their depths a shape started to emerge, tall, fluid, more of a suggestion than a man but no less intoxicating.It was him, the same presence from every dream, except now he was closer, clearer even though no features could be seen.

" Eden" the shadow whispered, his voice as smooth as velvet, as strong as steel.

Her breath stuttered in her throat. She should have run, should have been so terrified she screamed. Instead, that pull in her chest became irresistible, she stepped forward, 1,2 steps without realising it, towards the shape, towards the shadow.

The dream dissolved like smoke, leaving her heart hammering against her ribs, sweat coated her brow as she realised she had reached her hand out in her sleep towards the voice, she lowered her hand and bolted upright in the same jerky movement, her skin clammy in the cold air. The fire outside was no longer visible, having completely died out now, the clearing was pitch black.

Something brushed against the fabric of her tent. Slow. Deliberate. Eden clamped her hand over hear mouth to stifle the garbled scream that rose in her throat with her still gasping breaths. The dragging sound moved, circling her tent, ever so soft and gentle. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying she would wake again, begging for it to just be another dream.

But it wasn't, she was awake, and outside in the dark, the watcher waited.

The forest seemed to hold its breath, all sounds had stopped, no insects, no birds, not even the whisper of the wind in the trees. Only the faint sound of something swooshing, like a long dress against the ground, and the soft crunch of footsteps pacing the perimeter of her tent.

Crunch. Stop. Silence

Crunch. Stop. Silence.

The sound travelled around her, Asif whatever, whoever was out in her clearning, wanted her to know it was there, hunting her. Eden's lungs burned as she fought to slow her breathing and do it quietly. Every exhale felt too loud.

A new sound joined the footsteps, the scrape of fingernails, or claws against the tightly pulled nylon of her tent wall, a possesive caress that felt entirely too menacing.

The sound stopped at the back of her tent, near where her head was, the fabric indented slightly as if something was gently leaning into it, trying to get closer to her.

"Eden"