Untitled Story

• Year 2009
• Southeast states – maybe Washington?
• Small town
• Summer

Part one

17-year-old Chrissy sits in her dimly lit bedroom, the soft glow from her computer screen lighting up her face. Her walls are lined with posters and concert T-shirts, giving her room a weirdly asymmetrical appearance. In her oversized hoodie, she’s engrossed in a League of Legends match !, the sounds of battle nearly drowning out the latest argument between her parents echoing up through the floor. She winces as their voices peak, and her mic catches snippets of their heated exchange. “Sorry, guys. They’re at it again,” she mutters to her teammates, switching to mute.

A loud crash emanating from downstairs distracts her, and in that split second, her character dies. Frustrated, she exits the game, and grabs her phone. Leaving her room, she turns the lights on and heads downstairs to the main floor, passing family photos hung along the stairwell’s faded yellowing wallpaper. Picnics when Chrissy was a child, holidays at the local theme park, birthdays with friends, and most recently, a picture of the three of them smiling, Chrissy dressed in her high school graduation gown.

Arriving at the ground floor and entering the living room, she confronts her parents mid-argument. “Holy shit, can you two give it a rest already? I’m so sick of this!” she snaps, unable to hold back. Her mother, unbothered, shoots back, “This is our house, Christina! We’ll do whatever we like!” Frustrated, Chrissy storms away and slips out the side door.

It’s raining. Not pouring, but enough that she wishes she grabbed an umbrella. But the idea of having to go back inside is too unappealing, so she continues down the side of the house towards the street. When nearing the front of the house, she hears her dad roar “That girl left the damned stair lights on again! How many times do I have to tell her? We’re not made of money!“. Feeling a little guilty at the realization that she did forget to turn the light off, she crosses the street towards the forest on the other side.

Even though the forest has a trail going through it, she is entering a side of it with no clear paths. But this is no concern to her. She grew up here and has walked through this forest hundreds – maybe even a thousand – times in her life. Her best friend since she was 5 lives on the other side after all. She ducks into the trees, letting the canopy shield her as the rain begins to intensify.

Part Dos

Further into the trees now, her street no longer visible, Chrissy is alone with nothing but her thoughts (wondering if her parents will ever get divorced, but guiltily hoping that they stay together, even if they’re unhappy), the sound of rain hitting the treetop canopy, and the rich smell of petrichor. She knows that this stretch of forest is about a half-mile wide and takes out her phone to message James. Deciding against it, she pockets her phone again, thinking it might be a fun surprise to just show up, like in the old days.

And this is when everything changes.

The warmth is sucked out of the air, goosebumps populating her forearms, every breath feeling like effort. But that is not what Chrissy notices. There is a horrid and pungent smell lingering in the air. Faint at first but quickly overpowering her senses. It’s a smell like – like burning electronics. Like an electrical fire, or wet pennies with a current running through them. A thick, ill-defined smell that makes you struggle not to wretch. Almost as suddenly as the appearance of that smell, an immediate foreboding sense of dread envelops her, draping over her like a blanket made of fear and nightmare. And at this moment, Chrissy knows that she is doomed. She doesn’t know why or what, but the sense that her life is forfeit, and she’s powerless to stop it, consumes her, opresses her. She’s going to die.

An invisible force presses down, whispering, commanding, <turn around>. But she doesn’t. The truth is that even if she wanted to (and she absolutely did not want to), she was too frozen with fear. Twigs snap and leaves crunch behind her. Whatever it is, it’s circling her. Instinctively, she closes her eyes tight, not wanting to see whatever it was that was about to take her life. <open your eyes> – But she won’t, she can’t.

After only a few short moments, the fear and opressive sense of doom releases her, freeing every fibre of her being from that awful weight. She’s alive! Opening her eyes, she sees nothing strange or out of the ordinary, but still doesn’t dare turn around. Warmth returns to the summer night air, but the stench remains. No longer as potent as it was just a few short moments ago, but that coppery smell still lingers in the air. The smell of blood. Shaking, she bolts, not looking back, her feet flying over the uneven ground.

Part Power. Wisdom. Courage.

A few minutes later, panting with exhaustion, Chrissy emerges from the trees and onto another street. Similar to her own street, but the houses here are noticeably larger – nicer. Holding her waist and taking deep breaths, she walks towards the end of the street where James lives with his family.

Original Outline

• 17-year-old Chrissy is in her bedroom (decorated with band posters) wearing a hoody playing League of Legends.
• Her parents are fighting again – having a shouting match. It is clear that this is a common occurrence.
• Chrissy apologizes to her “party” because the shouts are being partly picked up by her mic. “Sorry, they’re at it again, going on mute”.
• The sound of something breaking downstairs distracts her, and she dies at a pivotal moment.
• Frustrated, she signs off and grabs her phone. Leaving her room, she turns the stair lights on and heads downstairs to the main floor, parents still shouting about something inconsequential.
• Following her through the house, we get to see that the family is not particularly well off. Old furniture, ugly carpet, and smoke-stained, yellowing wallpaper. However, we also see that the stairwell is lined with family photos of the three of them: picnics when Chrissy was a child, holidays at the local theme park, birthdays with friends, and most recently, a pic of the three of them with Chrissy in her high school graduation gown.
• Entering the living room, Chrissy confronts her parents
  “Holy shit, can you two give it a rest already? I’m sick of this shit“.
  Her mom immediately rebuttals
  “This is OUR house Christina ; we’ll do whatever we like!”.
• So Chrissy, feeling frustrated, storms away and leaves through the side door.
• It’s raining. Not pouring but enough that she wishes she had an umbrella. But she’s already outside and the idea of having to go back is unappealing. So she continues down the side of the house towards the street.
• When nearing the front of the house she hears her dad roar
  “That girl left the damned stair lights on again! How many times do I have to tell her? We’re not made of money!“.
• Feeling a little guilty at the realization that she did forget to turn the light off, she crosses the street towards the forest on the other side.
• Even though the forest has a trail going through it, she is entering a side of it with no clear paths. But this is not a concern to her. She grew up here and has walked through this forest hundreds – maybe even a thousand – times in her life. Her best friend since she was 5 lives on the other side after all. Also, the rain is really starting to pick up and the thick trees might offer a good amount of protection.
  

Part two

• Further into the trees now, her street no longer visible, Chrissy is alone with nothing but her thoughts (wondering if her parents will ever get divorced, but guiltily hoping that they stay together even if they’re unhappy), the sound of rain hitting the treetop canopy, and the rich smell of petrichor.
• She knows that this stretch of forest is about a half-mile wide and takes out her phone to message James. Deciding against it, she pockets her phone again, thinking it might be a fun surprise to just show up, like in the old days.

And this is when everything changes…

• The warmth gets sucked out of the air, but that’s not what Chrissy notices.
• There is a horrid and pungent smell lingering in the air. Faint at first but quickly overpowering her senses. It’s a smell like – like burning electronics. Like an electrical fire, or wet pennies with a current running through them. A thick, ill-defined smell that makes you struggle not to wretch.
• Almost as suddenly as the appearance of that dreadful smell, an immediate foreboding sense of dread envelops her, draping over her like a blanket made of fear and nightmare. And at this moment, Chrissy knows that she is doomed. She doesn’t know why or what, but the sense that her life is forfeit, and she’s powerless to stop it consumes her.
• She feels a “voice” behind her, commanding: <turn around>. But she doesn’t. The truth is that even if she wanted to (and she absolutely did not want to), she was frozen with fear face stuck forward.
• She hears the sound of twigs and leaves being crushed behind her, moving deliberately towards her right. The architect of her death was about to circle her.
• Instinctively, she closes her eyes tight, not wanting to see whatever it was that was about to take her life.
• <open your eyes> – but she doesn’t.
• After only a few short moments, the fear and opressive sense of doom that seeped into every fibre of her being releases her. She’s alive!
• Opening her eyes, she sees nothing strange or out of the ordinary, but still doesn’t turn around. Warmth returns to the summer night air, but the stench remains. No longer as potent as it was just a few short moments ago, but that coppery smell still lingers in the air. The smell of blood.
• Shaking, she makes a run for it, wanting nothing more than to get out of this forest and far away from whatever hellish thing she encountered.

Part three

• A few minutes later, panting with exhaustion, Chrissy emerges from the trees and onto another street. Similar to her own street, but the houses here are noticeably bigger – nicer.
• Holding her waist and taking deep breaths, she walks towards the end of the street where James lives with his family.
• James is two years older than her. His family used to live on her street, but moved here after a few years. He has two older siblings, but the youngest of them is still five years his senior. I guess you could say that with Chrissy being an only child, and James practically being one, these two created their own familial bond.
• After knocking on the door, James’ father answers. Seeing Chrissy shaking like a leaf, he assumes it’s due to her being cold out in the rain and immediately invites her in.
• “JAMES! CHRISSY IS HERE“
  “WAIT, WHAT? TELL HER TO COME UP!“
• James was always the calm and cool kid; always wanting to be seen as mature. Unlike Chrissy, no posters or band merch line the walls of his room. Instead, he just has some nice houseplants, some tasteful art painted by various friends, his gaming computer, and his guitar (which Chrissy is pretty sure he only even got because of her). It’s a nice enough room, but just lacks what she would call real personality – which is a shame since James is just about the best person she knows.
• “Chrissy? You’re soaked!“, James gets up from his computer desk and rummages through his closet, throwing one of his sweaters at her.
• He looks at her with genuine concern, maybe even pity. She hates that look because she knows what it is he’s thinking.
• “This isn’t about my parents OK? I just felt like getting out. Guess my feet were on autopilot and I ended up here.“
  “uhg, if only pretty girls would randomly end up here once in a while“
• Chrissy would have been offended, but James said it with his usual sardonic smirk, showing her that he was just kidding.

“Safe inside, she pushes aside the lingering dread, not yet ready to process the strange terror she felt in the woods.”