CHAPTER 7– SAFE HAVEN, ALMOST

HELENA 

The forest felt different when I was alone in it. not emptier. Just honest. Every sound mattered now. every snap of a branch. Every shift in the wind. Every breath I tried to keep steady. There was no one left to decide what I was worth. No one left to watch. Only the path. Only me.

I followed it anyway, because there was nothing else left to do. It took me all day to reach the spot he had marked. By the time I got there, the sun had dipped low, the sky stretched thin with fading light. Not dark yet but close enough that the shadows had begun to settle into places they didn’t belong.

The trees opened slowly. Almost reluctantly. And then saw it. A village. Green everywhere. Not just alive but thriving. Crops stretched in neat rows, hick and heavy as if they had never known drought. The grass was soft and full beneath my feet. Even the air smelled different. Clean and rich, almost sweet.

A faint smile pulled at my cracked lips. I made it. now all that was left was to see whether this place would be a haven or a trap. Either way, I had nowhere else to go. Not yet. I needed my injuries treated, food in my stomach and rest.

I dragged my leg forward, each step heavier than the last. hope took shape inside me, fragile but real, something I could almost hold. Behind me, a voice broke the quiet. “Oh, goodness. What happened to you?” I froze. Slowly, carefully, I tried to turn, but my body resisted. Before I could manage it, she stepped around me.

A woman. Soft eyes. Open face. Concern written too easily across it. She looked me over, her gaze lingering on my foot, my hands. “Are you looking for someone?” I shook my head. I had no one. Not here.

“okay” she said gently. “No need to worry. If you want, you can come with me. I have food and something to treat those wounds.” Her kindness came quickly. Too quickly. But my body didn’t care about doubt. “Thank you.” I managed, my voice barely there.

My mouth was dry, my lips split and stinging. The scorching sun had taken what little strength I had left hours ago. The water he had given me was long gone. Absorbed, forgotten by my body. She moved closer, steadying me without hesitation. I leaned into her, more out of necessity than trust, and together we began walking deeper into the village.

It was quiet. Not empty, but quiet in a way that made every small sound stand out. a door creaked somewhere in the distance. Something shifted behind a window. I caught glimpses of movement, but no one approached. They were watching. “My name is Laura.” She said after a moment, her voice light, almost practiced.

“Welcome to the Fertile Village.” The name should have sounded strange. But looking around, it fit. Everything here was…abundant. The crops, the trees, even the livestock in the distance, well-fed, unmoving, their eyes reflecting the fading light in a way that made it hard to tell where they were looking.

I had never seen a place like it. “Helena,” I said, the name slipping out before I thought to hold it back. “Where are you from?” she asked. “What happened to you?” my body tensed before my mind could react. She felt it. a small pause, then a soft, almost rehearsed chuckle.

“You don’t have to answer that,” she added quickly. “Not now, what matter is getting you taken care of.” my stomach growled loudly, sharp enough to cut through everything else. Laura laughed, warm and easy. As if nothing in the world was out of place. I wanted to believe it.

But as we moved further in, I noticed something I couldn’t quite explain. For a place full of life, no one spoke.  And no one stepped outside. I kept my eyes forward, forcing my legs to move, forcing myself not to turn, not to look too closely. It should have felt like safety.

It almost did. but somewhere beneath the warmth, beneath the green and the quiet and the kindness, something wasn’t right. As we passed the last row of houses, I noticed it, just for a second. A figure standing at the edge of the field, half hidden in the tall crops. Still. Watching.

Not curious like the others, but fixed. Intent. My stepped faltered, my grip tightening slightly on Laura’s arm. “Who is that?” I whispered my voice thinner than I meant it to be. Laura didn’t look. not even a glance. But I felt it, the subtle shift in her body, the way her hand tightened around mine just a little too quickly. “Don’t worry about them,” she said, her voice softer now, careful.

“You are safe here.” safe. The word echoed strangely in my head as we reached her door. Behind us, I could still feel it, that gaze, unmoving, unblinking, as if it had been waiting for me long before I ever arrived. Laura pushed the door open, warm light spilling out into the dimming evening.

I stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of something rich and unfamiliar. And just before the door closed behind me, cutting off the last of the outside world. I heard it, faint, distant. A sound that didn’t belong to the quiet of the village. Not a voice. Not quite. Something low. Something wrong.