Nightfall and First Blood

Branches scraped the tent fabric like blind fingers. It was well past dusk—the kind of black where you couldn't see your hand before your face. Harper lay rigid. Mia's soft breaths beside her. The others argued outside: Lex and Danny’s voices rising, Tori a shivery murmur.

"I’m getting more wood. I swear, if you touch my lighter, I’ll stab you with a s’mores stick!" Lex yowled, the bravado brittle beneath his voice.

"Just stay close, idiot," Danny snapped. "There’s enough for the fire."

Lex’s boots crackled through leaves and vanished into the pines.

A silence. Not just quiet—an absence. Even the idiot squirrels stopped moving. Harper’s heart tap-danced in her ribs. Instinct shrieked: don’t go alone. But then again, Lex loved a dramatic exit.

Mia fumbled with her phone, swearing quietly. "Signal’s crap. I was going to check the time. It’s so dark, H—"

"It’ll be sunrise before we know it," Harper lied. "We should keep the fire lit. Tori? You OK?"

Tori crouched by the stones, fingers tracing sigils in the glow. "They’re different now." Her voice made Harper wince. "There are more. Here, and—here."

Danny's shadow loomed. "Lex. Come on, man. Enough."

No reply. Just the wind, and the whisper of leaves.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.

Mia grew shrill. "He’s messing with us. He’s such an ass."

Harper’s legs refused stillness. She unzipped the tent and stepped out. The night hit her, thick and metallic. Her nostrils flared. The air smelled wrong, a damp rawness beneath pine.

"Stay together. Tori—leave the rocks," Harper hissed.

They circled camp: three flashlights, beams trembling in the black. The runes—had there always been this many? New ones, slick and glistening, crawled up tree trunks. Some still dripped crimson.

Harper’s stomach hollowed. "Tori, what is this?"

Tori shook. "It’s not protective. Not anymore. They’re calling something. Or—marking."

Danny gulped. "Lex? Enough. Dude, seriously!"

Branch snapped. All three spun, Danny squaring up with trembling fists.

A retreating shadow, tall among the brush—gone.

Panic strangled Mia’s voice. "Call him. Call him now."

Phones—dead. Every one. Screens black as obsidian. No sign of life, not even a flicker.

"Mine was charged," Danny muttered. "I checked an hour ago."

Harper felt the world tilt. "Give me your phone."

Each one: nothing. Even the backup battery Mia carried, always smug about preparedness, wouldn’t charge them. Static sizzled in Harper’s veins.

"Pack up," Mia pleaded. "We’ll go back toward the car—"

Tori cried out. Harper spun, light flaring over Tori’s jeans—blood, fresh, slicked over her knees.

"I tripped—oh god—" Tori backed away, voice shrill. Blood was smeared across the roots. A trail darted away from camp, broken branches leading deeper.

Danny gagged. "No. God, that’s not—Lex? Lex, this isn’t funny!"

Harper’s feet moved before her brain caught up. The group fell into line behind her, blind in terror and adrenaline. The woods coiled tight, branches closing like teeth. The sigils appeared everywhere now, crawling between trees, some still wet.

Something snapped overhead. Mia muffled a scream.

They stumbled through brambles. Harper’s light swept across a fallen log—a shoe. Lex’s battered Nike. No Lex.

Mia clawed at Harper’s jacket. "We have to leave, Harper. We have to go, now."

Harper squeezed her hand. "Not without him."

Ten paces deeper, the trail ended at a raw wound in the earth, a ring of upturned soil matted with trampled leaves. Blood pooled at the center, streaked with the grotesque shapes of more runes. Strips of ripped shirt, a torn wristband, the glint of a dropped Zippo—the one with Lex's initials.

Numb, Harper pressed trembling fingers to the Zippo. Still warm. The blood, sticky and bright, was too much for a prank.

"He’s hurt," Harper managed. "But alive. He has to be—"

Somewhere deep in the woods, a scream—sharp, cut off mid-breath.

Danny stumbled back, hyperventilating. Tori slumped to her knees, rocking, whispering prayers under her breath.

Mia sobbed, snot clogging her words. "We can’t stay. They’re out here. Someone’s out here."

The trees replied, branches shuddering in an invisible wind. Footsteps—maybe animal, maybe not—crunched somewhere behind. The runes seemed to pulse.

Harper dragged herself up, grit in her voice. "We get back to camp. Take what we can. Find the car. Stay together. Run if you have to."

Tori, blood streaking her hands, nodded. Danny stared, cheeks slick with panic. Mia clung to Harper like a lifeline.

As one, they moved. The forest watched, alive and ravenous. Somewhere, something breathed—a shallow, human sound that did not belong to any of them.

A long way off, the Blood Moon climbed the sky, red and swollen, washing the world in horror.