Page 57 of Lost to the Woods

Before he can call my bluff, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and check the screen.

“Hey, it’s the pretty cute one with the southern accent and scary stories. Just wanted to double-check if you needed a guide for the hike, after all? Or maybe you wanna ditch your grumpy masked party-pooper, and let me show you a good time?”

I can’t help but smile at the text—Mark’s gotten some confidence overnight.

But immediately, I feel the temperature in the room drop by ten degrees. Above me, I hear Ghost grit his teeth as he leans in to read the message upside down. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s enraged.

“You should be glad that flirting with me is all it takes for him to back off your case.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking thankful. No idea how I’ll ever repay him for this overwhelming act of mercy.”

I roll my eyes. “Get over yourself. It’s not that serious.”

“Trouble in paradise already?” Dev chimes in, grinning. “Sounded like you two were getting along just fine last night.”

“Yeah, right,” Nate mutters with a nervous forced laugh. Poor guy. I don’t think he slept at all.

“Eat,” Ghost commands me, ignoring them. “You’ll need energy.”

I poke his chest with a huff. “You eat.”

“I already have.” He sensually runs his palms up my thighs. “Unless you offer something sweet.”

“Guys, come on!” Dev whines, fake-gagging.

After breakfast, we gather our equipment—cameras, EMF meters, audio gear, then change and get ready to leave. I fix my makeup and throw on something on-brand. I settle on a pink satin bustier half-corset, high-waisted denim shorts with ruffled cuffs, black fishnet tights underneath, and ankle sneakers. Obviously, I top it off with my signature bunny-ear headband.

When I come back down, Ghost is waiting by the door, arms crossed, leg fidgeting. He changed into his usual—black hoodie, black jeans with cuts on the knees, and his black combat boots.

“You do know we’re going into the woods, right?” he says, eyeing my outfit.

I want to punch him in the throat.

“I’m gonna be on camera, so—”

“Yes, you will,” he cuts in, and the way he says it makes it sound ominous. Like a threat.

I brush past him without another word, but I can feel his presence hovering right behind me.

We drive to the closest hiking trail entry point, park the car, and unload our stuff. The second I step out of the car, a chill runs down my spine.

Something feels…off.

The air is thick and humid, clinging to my skin like damp clothes fresh out of the dryer but never dried. It smells of wet leaves, rusted metal, and something else—older. Ancient. Like grave dirt and secrets that shouldn’t be spoken.

The forest ahead is too still. The trees look unsettling. I swear they’re leaning in, stretching toward us like they’ve been waiting. Watching.

But the worst part?

It’s the silence.

No birds chirping.

No insects buzzing.

No wind rustling the leaves.

Just a dense, smothering stillness. Not the peaceful kind. More like the world paused mid-breath and never exhaled.

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