The morning air in the Alabama forest was cool and damp, carrying the scent of pine and wet earth. Dawn had just broken, painting the sky in streaks of pale orange and grey. Mira’s sneakers pounded a steady, rhythmic beat on the packed dirt trail, her breath coming in controlled, even puffs. At nineteen, with a lean runner’s build and a perky, compact chest that bounced gently in her sports bra, she was in her element. Her dark hair, pulled into a high ponytail, swished against the back of her neck with each stride.She was pushing her usual route deeper into the woods today, chasing that runner’s high, the burn in her thighs a familiar, welcome ache. The trail curved, and as she rounded a bend, the sound of running water from a nearby creek was joined by something else. A low, rhythmic thump-thump-thump, like a bass line from a distant speaker, and… voices. Not shouting. Moaning.Mira slowed to a jog, then a walk, her heart hammering now for a different reason. The sounds were coming
Last Updated : 2026-05-14 Read more