The forest was cloaked in shadows, and the moon offered no light to guide her. A young girl ran, her bare feet striking the forest floor, snapping fallen branches with every step. Her breath came in harsh gasps, lungs burning, struggling to take in air. Sweat drenched her body, chilling her as the night wind kissed her skin.
Darkness swallowed everything before her eyes, but still, she didn't stop. Fear pushed her forward—until the ground beneath her gave way.
She screamed as her body plummeted into a hole, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs, and her world dissolved into blackness.
"Argh!"
The groan escaped her lips as consciousness crept back. Her lashes fluttered, eyes adjusting to the blur of darkness. She reached up, fingers trembling, only to find her head wet—sticky with something warm. Blood.
Another cry escaped her lips as she struggled to sit up. Tears streamed down her cheeks, raw panic gnawing at her chest. Above her, the crunch of branches echoed once more. She wasn't alone.
He was near.
Please, God, she prayed silently, don't let him find me. My life is already ruined. Don't let me die here—by the hands of that… thing.
Then, at the edge of the pit, a figure emerged—a tall creature cloaked in shadows, glowing red eyes piercing through the darkness. Before she could scream, the cloaked being moved with blinding speed, lifting her effortlessly out of the hole.
"Who are you?! Don't touch me!" she screamed, hysterical, eyes darting in the dark. She couldn't see his face beneath the hood. Her head throbbed in agony.
The creature inhaled, taking in the scent of her blood. Then, it leaned toward her neck. Pain exploded through her body as something pierced her vein.
"Argh!" she screamed, thrashing. The agony was unbearable, as if her very soul was being drained. Darkness edged her vision.
Then—
"Zamora! My God! What's wrong with you?! Get up! Aren't you going to school?!"
The voice jolted her awake.
Zamora sat up in bed, drenched in sweat, her chest heaving. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for the creature, for the hole, for the forest—but all she saw was her familiar bedroom. Morning sunlight streamed through the window.
"What in heaven's name happened to your pajamas?! You're soaked!" Aunt Merry scolded, flinging the curtains open.
Zamora tried to speak, her voice hoarse. She clutched her neck—it still throbbed, though there was no wound.
"Auntie," she whispered.
"What now? Don't tell me you're skipping school!" Aunt Merry planted her hands on her hips.
"No… I just—did you see—"
"See what? Your feet still attached? Good, then off you go. Shower now!" With that, Aunt Merry stormed out, grumbling all the way.
Zamora looked to the window. She reached her hand toward the sunlight, trying to feel its warmth—to prove to herself she was still in the real world.
"Zamora! Do you want me to bathe you myself?!" Aunt Merry's voice cut through her thoughts.
"Yes, Auntie, I'm going!"
Dragging herself from bed, Zamora quickly tidied her room and rushed to the bathroom before her aunt could start again.
---
"You're serious?!" Alena squealed, her eyes wide in disbelief.
Zamora nodded. "I swear, I still feel pain right here." She pointed to her neck.
"I don't know what kind of creature it was, but I've heard stories," Alena murmured, tapping her forehead. "There's a legend about something that lives in the woods behind our school. What was it called…?"
"Incubus?" Zamora offered.
Alena leaned closer, surprised. "Yes! That's it. How do you know?"
"This morning I overheard Aunt Merry talking to Aunt Sam. Girls have been disappearing from around our neighborhood. No trace. The police are clueless. People think they were taken by an Incubus."
Alena shivered, rubbing her arms. "I've got goosebumps…"
"Do you know what they look like?"
"No. And I don't want to. I don't want to get abducted and eaten!"
"Hey, calm down," Zamora said softly, placing a hand on Alena's shoulder. "You'll be okay."
But deep inside, she wasn't so sure. Zamora decided she would never stay late at school again.
---
"Good morning," came the cheerful voice of Mr. Hans as he entered the classroom, arms full of thick textbooks.
Students scurried to their seats, greeting the young biology teacher with enthusiasm—especially the girls.
"Look at them, shameless," Alena whispered, rolling her eyes.
"Sshh," Zamora warned. She didn't want Alena getting into another fight with the snobby girls.
"Today's assignment will count toward your grade," Mr. Hans announced. "Please take notes."
Zamora leaned toward Alena, whispering as she dictated the list: "Three roses, twenty pebbles, one flower pot…"
"As for the groups, I'll be assigning them myself," Mr. Hans added.
Zamora and Alena exchanged worried glances. No one in class wanted to be grouped with them—they came from modest families, not the elite.
When Alena's name was called, Zamora prepared for the worst.
"All set?" Mr. Hans asked.
"Yes, sir," the class replied.
Zamora and Alena sighed in unison.
---
Lunchtime came. While others flocked to the canteen, Zamora and Alena sat in the back garden, avoiding the bullies. Last time, Monica had poured water into their lunch and made them eat it.
Zamora suddenly winced, clutching her neck.
"Are you okay?" Alena asked.
"Just a bug bite," Zamora lied with a weak smile. But the pain matched exactly what she'd felt in her dream.
"Do you think Incubi are real?" Alena asked.
"I don't know," Zamora replied. "I hope not."
"And if they are… do you think they live in those woods?" Alena pointed toward the forest in the distance.
"Don't believe in those things. They're not real. You'll be fine." Zamora smiled, though her heart pounded with unease.
"Oh my God! You two are hard to find," a voice called out. Luke appeared, breathless.
He sat down next to Zamora, catching his breath. "We're collecting roses tomorrow in the forest behind the school. Don't be late, or we'll leave without you."
"What time?" Zamora asked cautiously.
"Ten a.m. sharp," Luke replied before leaving.
Zamora turned to Alena, who looked pale.
"I'll be okay," Zamora reassured her. "Promise me you won't worry."
"Promise me you'll be okay," Alena said, raising her pinky.
"I promise."
---
Sleep wouldn't come that night. Zamora feared dreaming again. She lay wide-eyed, fighting off exhaustion.
Knock knock knock.
"Zamora, open the door!" Aunt Merry called.
Dragging herself up, Zamora opened it. "What is it, Auntie?"
"We're out of sugar. Go buy some from the mini-market."
"It's almost midnight!"
"Are you arguing with me?!"
Sighing in defeat, Zamora put on a jacket and stepped out. The air was cool and eerily still. The mini-market wasn't far, just a few blocks from the school.
She bought the sugar and turned to the window. Someone was standing across the street—still, silent. Her chest tightened. She paid quickly, eyes darting back. The figure was gone.
Outside, the streets were nearly empty. She picked up her pace. Footsteps echoed behind her. She stopped. Turned. Nothing.
You're just imagining things, she told herself.
Suddenly, a hooded figure appeared ahead exactly like the one from her dream. Zamora's blood ran cold. Her legs refused to move. Then, adrenaline kicked in. She ran.
"God, help me! I don't want to die!"
She ducked into a narrow alley by a closed flower shop. Gasping, hiding. Safe—for now.
Until footsteps approached.
Zamora turned. A man walked toward her. Slowly. Calmly.
"Stay back!" she screamed, hurling the bag of sugar.
The figure grinned beneath his hood, revealing sharp fangs.
"Are you afraid?" he asked softly.
Zamora froze. Why does he speak so gently? What kind of monster is this?
Then, pain erupted in her neck again.
"Argh! God!" she cried as her scream echoed through the alley.