ItsFulgrim
❤︎⊹𝓢𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽⊹❤︎
Spring had finally arrived, shaking off the eerie remnants of winter with its crisp, chilled winds. The biting cold no longer echoed through the trees. Instead, the air carried the perfume of fresh flora, and the rhythmic songs of birds perched high in the branches. Peace had returned to the woods, drawing visitors from all corners of the country. Each came for different reasons, some to hunt, some to camp, others merely seeking the simple pleasure of a nature walk.
But tonight, the forest rangers faced something far graver than an untended fire or a lost hiker.
Jeremiah Sanders, veteran ranger of Fire Tower 5, had left his post in the dead of night after reporting screams deep within the forest. He was no rookie. The years had hardened him, carved instincts sharper than most. Suggestions that the cries were nothing more than a mountain lion or some stray wild animal held no weight. Sanders knew better, to his own doom.
He searched, combing the darkened trees for hours, long enough for the stars to trade places, long enough for exhaustion to gnaw at his bones. Then, as the first glow of dawn shined in the horizon, his frantic voice rang through the radio, calling for help. A desperate plea, cut short.
When they found him, they found the camper too, the one screaming for help. But neither had been left in one piece.
The scene was something beyond description, the kind of horror that made stomachs turn and voices falter. The gore was too vile for words, so instead, the rangers called for their own help. Whatever was out there, whatever had done this, was not an animal.
-
Hours later, the Chief had secured the area. No hikers, no interference. Nothing had been touched. Now, in the quiet confines of her office, she sat across from the one person she could trust to lead the investigation through the forest.
The kid looked like a younger version of herself, sharp eyes, determined posture. She stared at him, cool and unreadable, a silent warning in her gaze.
"You understand your assignment, yes?" Her voice carried a firm edge, respectful but firm. "No heroics. No talking more than needed. No opinions unless asked. And for the love of the Almighty in Heaven, absolutely none of that ghost nonsense. Is that clear, kid?"
The young man nodded, hazel curls swaying with the motion. "Crystal clear, ma’am. But, if I may, I do have a few questions."
She sighed, arms crossed, already knowing where this was going. "Go ahead."
"You saw the scene, right? I mean, is it really that far off to think it might be something... Supernatural?"
The Chief closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if asking for patience from forces beyond her control. Then, she exhaled sharply.
"Jesus Christ, give me a patience and not strength-" She said, on the edge of anger. "Listen. We don't have time for paranoia right now, and I assure you, the investigator will have even less time for it. Ghost stories are just that- Stories. I know you're trying to help. God knows I trust you, kid. But this? This crosses a line. Respect old Sanders' memory. Let the cop do the thinking. Your job is to guide them through the forest, make sure they don't get lost. That's it."
Her fingers resumed their quiet rhythm against the keyboard, typing up reports with delicate precision. The office sat in thick silence, save for the occasional sigh from the Chief. The young man mirrored her previous posture, arms crossed, waiting.
Waiting, for this investigator to arrive, trying his best not to let anxiety win him over, an easy task, probably.
But tonight, the forest rangers faced something far graver than an untended fire or a lost hiker.
Jeremiah Sanders, veteran ranger of Fire Tower 5, had left his post in the dead of night after reporting screams deep within the forest. He was no rookie. The years had hardened him, carved instincts sharper than most. Suggestions that the cries were nothing more than a mountain lion or some stray wild animal held no weight. Sanders knew better, to his own doom.
He searched, combing the darkened trees for hours, long enough for the stars to trade places, long enough for exhaustion to gnaw at his bones. Then, as the first glow of dawn shined in the horizon, his frantic voice rang through the radio, calling for help. A desperate plea, cut short.
When they found him, they found the camper too, the one screaming for help. But neither had been left in one piece.
The scene was something beyond description, the kind of horror that made stomachs turn and voices falter. The gore was too vile for words, so instead, the rangers called for their own help. Whatever was out there, whatever had done this, was not an animal.
-
Hours later, the Chief had secured the area. No hikers, no interference. Nothing had been touched. Now, in the quiet confines of her office, she sat across from the one person she could trust to lead the investigation through the forest.
The kid looked like a younger version of herself, sharp eyes, determined posture. She stared at him, cool and unreadable, a silent warning in her gaze.
"You understand your assignment, yes?" Her voice carried a firm edge, respectful but firm. "No heroics. No talking more than needed. No opinions unless asked. And for the love of the Almighty in Heaven, absolutely none of that ghost nonsense. Is that clear, kid?"
The young man nodded, hazel curls swaying with the motion. "Crystal clear, ma’am. But, if I may, I do have a few questions."
She sighed, arms crossed, already knowing where this was going. "Go ahead."
"You saw the scene, right? I mean, is it really that far off to think it might be something... Supernatural?"
The Chief closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if asking for patience from forces beyond her control. Then, she exhaled sharply.
"Jesus Christ, give me a patience and not strength-" She said, on the edge of anger. "Listen. We don't have time for paranoia right now, and I assure you, the investigator will have even less time for it. Ghost stories are just that- Stories. I know you're trying to help. God knows I trust you, kid. But this? This crosses a line. Respect old Sanders' memory. Let the cop do the thinking. Your job is to guide them through the forest, make sure they don't get lost. That's it."
Her fingers resumed their quiet rhythm against the keyboard, typing up reports with delicate precision. The office sat in thick silence, save for the occasional sigh from the Chief. The young man mirrored her previous posture, arms crossed, waiting.
Waiting, for this investigator to arrive, trying his best not to let anxiety win him over, an easy task, probably.
