Chadwick Rye

Detective Sarah Hawkins pulled her car to a stop in front of the dilapidated Willow Creek Police Station. The building, like the rest of the town, had seen better days. Peeling paint and a flickering neon ‘OPEN’ sign in the window spoke volumes about the state of local law enforcement.

Sarah sighed, grabbing her case file before stepping out into the crisp autumn air. She’d been sent here by the State Police to investigate a series of disappearances that had plagued Willow Creek for the past six months. Six people gone without a trace, in a town of barely 2,000. The local police were out of their depth, and the mayor had finally swallowed his pride and called for help.

As Sarah pushed open the station’s creaky door, a wave of stale coffee and old cigarette smoke assaulted her nostrils. Behind an ancient desk sat a pot-bellied man in a rumpled uniform, his eyes narrowing as she approached.

“You must be the big city detective,” he drawled, not bothering to stand.

Sarah flashed her badge. “Detective Sarah Hawkins, State Police. I’m here to speak with Chief Barton.”

The man jerked his thumb towards a door behind him. “In there. Don’t expect a warm welcome.”

Sarah nodded curtly and strode past him. She knocked once on the door marked ‘CHIEF’ before entering.

Chief Barton was a weathered man in his sixties, with a shock of white hair and piercing blue eyes. He glanced up from his paperwork, his frown deepening as he took in Sarah’s appearance.

“Detective Hawkins,” he grunted. “Didn’t expect them to send a woman.”

Sarah bit back a retort. She’d dealt with small-town sexism before. “I’m here about the disappearances, Chief. I’d like to see what you have so far.”

Barton leaned back in his chair, which creaked ominously. “Not much to see. People up and vanished. No signs of struggle, no bodies, nothing.”

“There must be something,” Sarah pressed. “Commonalities between the victims, last known locations, anything?”

The chief shrugged. “They all went missing at night. All last seen near or in Willow Woods. That’s about it.”

Sarah frowned. It wasn’t much to go on. “I’d like to interview the families, and then take a look at those woods.”

“Suit yourself,” Barton replied. “But watch yourself in those woods after dark. Strange things happen in there.”

Something in his tone made Sarah pause. “What kind of strange things?”

Barton’s eyes flickered to a painting on the wall – an impressionist rendering of a dark, mist-shrouded forest. “Just local legends. Nothing a city detective would be interested in.”

Sarah’s instincts prickled. There was more here than the chief was letting on. “Try me,” she said.

The old man sighed, reaching into his desk drawer. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, pouring a finger into each. He slid one across to Sarah.

“You’re gonna need this,” he said, taking a swig from his own glass. “Ever heard of the Hidebehind?”

Sarah blinked. “Can’t say that I have.”

“It’s an old lumberjack tale,” Barton explained. “A creature that hides behind trees, always staying just out of sight. It lures people deep into the woods and…” he trailed off, taking another drink.

“And what?” Sarah prompted.

“And they’re never seen again,” Barton finished. “It’s said to make a sound like whispers on the wind to draw its victims in.”

Sarah fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Chief, I’m here to investigate real disappearances, not chase folklore.”

Barton fixed her with a hard stare. “Look. I’ve been policing these woods for forty years, Detective. I’ve seen things that defy explanation. You’d do well to keep an open mind.”

Something in his voice sent a chill down Sarah’s spine. She left the whiskey untouched.

The next few days were a blur of interviews and dead ends. The families of the missing were distraught, but had little useful information to offer. No one had seen anything suspicious, heard anything out of the ordinary. It was as if their loved ones had simply vanished into thin air.

On her fourth night in Willow Creek, Sarah found herself parked at the edge of Willow Woods, staring into the darkness beyond her headlights. The trees loomed ominously, their branches swaying in a breeze she couldn’t feel.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, killing the engine. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers she sought lay somewhere in those woods.

Armed with a powerful flashlight and her service weapon, Sarah stepped out of the car. The night was eerily quiet – no crickets, no rustling leaves, nothing. Just an oppressive silence that seemed to press in on her from all sides.

She’d barely taken ten steps into the woods when she heard it – a faint whisper, just on the edge of hearing. Sarah froze, straining her ears. There it was again, sounding almost like her name.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice sounding small in the vast darkness. “Is someone there?”

The whisper came again, louder this time, definitely her name. It seemed to be coming from deeper in the woods. Against her better judgment, Sarah began to walk towards it.

The forest grew denser as she pressed on, the beam of her flashlight barely penetrating the thick canopy above. The whispers continued, always just ahead, always just out of sight.

Sarah’s foot caught on a root and she stumbled, her flashlight flying from her grasp. It hit a rock with a sickening crunch, plunging her into darkness. Cursing, she fumbled for her phone, using its dim light to search for the fallen flashlight.

As she bent to retrieve it, a twig snapped behind her. Sarah whirled around, her hand flying to her gun.

Nothing. Just more trees and shadows.

But as she turned back, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Something dark and lean slipped behind a massive oak tree. Something that was definitely not human.

Sarah’s heart pounded in her chest. “Police!” she shouted, drawing her weapon. “Come out with your hands up!”

Only the whispers answered, growing louder, more insistent. They seemed to be coming from all around her now, a cacophony of ethereal voices calling her name.

She backed up slowly, trying to remember which way led back to her car. But in the darkness, every direction looked the same. She was lost.

A branch cracked loudly to her left. Sarah spun, firing a warning shot into the air. The gunshot echoed through the woods, momentarily drowning out the whispers.

In the muzzle flash, she caught a glimpse of something tall and emaciated, its limbs impossibly long and twisted. It was there for just a fraction of a second before melting back into the shadows.

The whispers rose to a fever pitch, no longer just her name but a jumble of pleading voices. Sarah recognized some of them – the missing people she’d come here to find.

“Help us,” they seemed to say. “Save us.”

Sarah ran. She crashed through the underbrush, branches whipping at her face, roots threatening to trip her with every step. She could hear something moving in the woods around her, keeping pace effortlessly.

Just when she thought her lungs would burst, Sarah burst out of the treeline. She stumbled to her knees on the asphalt of the road, gasping for air.

A car’s headlights blinded her. As her eyes adjusted, she saw Chief Barton step out, his face grim.

“I told you to be careful in those woods at night,” he said, helping her to her feet.

Sarah looked back at the forest. For a moment, she thought she saw a pair of glowing eyes watching her from between the trees. But when she blinked, they were gone.

“What…” she panted, “what was that thing?”

Barton sighed heavily. “That, Detective, was the Hidebehind. And now that it’s got your scent, it won’t stop until it has you.”

Sarah’s mind reeled, struggling to process what she’d seen. “The missing people,” she said. “I heard them. They’re still alive in there, somehow.”

The chief nodded solemnly. “Trapped between our world and whatever hell that thing comes from. And now, thanks to your little adventure, we might have a chance to save them.”

“How?” Sarah asked, her detective’s instincts kicking back in despite her fear.

Barton reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an ancient, leather-bound book. “With this,” he said. “It’s been passed down through my family for generations. Contains old magic, ways to fight creatures like the Hidebehind.”

Sarah stared at him incredulously. “Magic? You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Barton replied. “You’ve seen it now, Detective. You know the truth. The question is, are you willing to do whatever it takes to solve this case?”

Sarah looked back at the dark woods, remembering the pleading voices she’d heard. She thought of the missing people, of their grieving families. Whatever was going on here, whatever that thing in the woods was, she couldn’t walk away now.

“I’m in,” she said firmly. “What do we do?”

Barton smiled grimly. “We prepare,” he said. “And then, Detective Hawkins, we go hunting.”

As they drove back to town, Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d stepped into a world she didn’t fully understand. But one thing was clear – the real investigation into the Willow Creek disappearances was only just beginning.

In the woods behind them, hidden just out of sight, a lean, twisted figure watched their departing taillights. It tilted its head, an inhuman grin spreading across its face. The game was on, and it had been so long since it had worthy opponents.

The whispers rose once more on the night air, carrying with them the promise of terrors yet to come.