The Watcher- Original Horror Story by Hazel West

It's been a while, but I wanted to share the horror story I wrote for the Short Story Jam I hosted back in August. Hope you enjoy!

 

The Watcher

 

By Hazel B. West

 

 

 

Sofia had lived in the woods for as long as she could remember. And she had lived alone.

            Once upon a time (as the story books say) she thought there had been adults, perhaps parents—her parents even—but that had been so long ago all she had were vague memories of tall figures standing over her cradle, loving arms rocking her gently to sleep. 

            She didn’t know what happened to them, why they left, or why she had stayed. 

            But she was pretty sure it had something to do with the dark figure she frequently saw in the woods.

            It had been as much of a presence as she was, so often looming in the darkness that quickly swallowed the trees no matter what time of day it was. Always too far away to really make out, but close enough to make Sofia uneasy. 

            Sofia didn’t like straying too far from the cabin because of it. Not that it had ever tried to do anything to her, but she didn’t necessarily trust it not to either, especially if it thought she was getting too close. 

            So she kept her traps and snares near the cabin, even though sometimes that meant the yield was not as good. There was luckily a brook that ran several hundred feet behind the cabin and otherwise her own garden provided anything else she might have needed. 

            Sofia had lived like this for as long as she could remember and she was fine with it. She would keep to her space as long as that dark figure kept to its.

            Winter was setting in when there seemed to be a shift in the woods.

            Sofia noticed it first when it seemed quiet. The winter woods were always a little quieter. There were not the baby birds of the spring, the bugs of summer, or the foraging squirrels and other rodents in the autumn. A lot of animals hibernated and once the snow fell it created a quiet blanket to muffle the majority of sounds. 

            But still, Sofia knew the difference between the winter quiet and a bad quiet—a dangerous quiet. It was the same feeling she got whenever she spotted the dark figure—the Watcher, she called it— in the forest. Though it never did anything to class it as violent, the animals all seemed to realize it was not one of them and stayed clear of it like Sofia did. 

            And yet, there was something that felt darker about this particular quiet. Something looming at the edges of the small clearing her cabin sat in, feeling as oppressive as the lowering of an oncoming storm with a similar shift in atmosphere. 

            It was not something Sofia recognized and that terrified her in ways she couldn’t stand to admit to herself.

            For all the unease the Watcher gave her, it was still a constant. This…this was something new and if the animals didn’t like it, Sofia didn’t either. 

            She took a large stick with her today when she went out to check her snares. She rarely kept it unless she’d heard wolves nearby, but it made her feel more secure with its weight in her hand. 

            Sofia was slightly discouraged when she found that her first two snares did not hold anything even though the area she usually set them up in was prolific with rabbits. She was worried when her backup snares were also bare. That was definitely unusual. It looked like she would be fishing for her supper that night.

            Luckily, she had set nets in the river in anticipation of catching some extra fish to smoke for the winter before the ice froze it over and, today, there were several fish up to offer.

            She pulled them out, putting them in her bucket, and then reset the net before she made her way back toward the cabin.

            The Watcher was on the other side of the river.

            Sofia nearly dropped her bucket when she saw it. Tall, dark, looming there between two trees. It turned toward her, the empty eyes of a deer skull staring out from the shadows of a hood. It was closer than she had ever seen it before and Sofia could almost make out the dark weave of the cloak-like garment it wore. If an apparition even needed to wear a garment. Perhaps that was just there to make it look tangible. 

            For a long second, Sofia was frozen to the spot, and then she gathered herself, backing away slowly. She didn’t turn for fear of showing the looming figure her back. She had the terrible feeling that if she did, the next time she turned around, it would be right behind her…

            But it didn’t move for as long as she backed away, staying there in the shadows of the trees like it always did, and finally Sofia chanced turning around and ran the rest of the way back to the cabin, slamming the door shut and barring it. 

            Her heart was still pounding but she felt better with the thick, firm walls of the cabin around her. She carried the fish back to the small kitchen area and started to clean them. 

            She could not afford to be afraid. This was her home, the only one she had ever known. She refused to be afraid of anything around here.

            And yet that night, long after she had eaten her fish stew and made sure the windows were closed tight against the cold, the whistling started.

            Whistling, was perhaps not the best way to describe the sound, but it was the only thing Sofia could think to call it. It wasn’t screaming or howling, not quite. It could almost be mistaken for the wind, except she knew it wasn’t. Sofia had been out here long enough to know every sound in the woods. The wolves, the foxes, the elk, multiple types of birds that could be heard in the day and the night. This was not an elk, though their cries could be strange sometimes. This was not the sound of an injured fox. It was not the haunted songs of the whippoorwills or owls. No, just like the encroaching feeling of darkness, this was something new, and it chilled Sofia to the bone, sending goosepimples down her spine.

            She huddled in her bed under the quilt that had been stitched together by someone other than herself. She tried to convince herself that it was the wind at first, except she knew that couldn’t be true. After all, she could see the branch of the tree nearest her bedroom window illuminated in the moonlight and it was completely still. There was no wind at all, and yet the eerie sound continued.

            What was out there? And why had it come here now?

            Sofia didn’t sleep that night, the strange whistling sound continued until the sun started to rise and then it mercifully stopped, leaving the girl exhausted and trembling in her bed.

            Something in her made her want to investigate, a need to know something, anything about what was out there, but the sensible, instinctual, part of her knew that, just like the animals, this was not something to be messed with, and she should probably leave it alone.

            So, tired as she was, she worked as she usually would, going on with the household chores, readying the cabin for winter. She hated how hesitant she was to even step out into her garden, but there was nothing out there, in fact, she even heard some birds also making their winter preparations so she felt a little better. She harvested the last of the vegetables for canning and preserving and started repotting some of the plants to take inside for the winter so she would not lose all of them come the first freeze, which, considering the nip in the air, would likely be coming soon.

            She would have to continue growing her stock of meat and firewood though, but that could wait until tomorrow. Today she had plenty to occupy herself here at the cabin. Sofia told herself that this had nothing to do with the fear of traveling deeper into the woods.

            Canning was a blessedly warm job, and she also took the extra fish she had caught yesterday and started smoking them slowly over the firepit at the back of the cabin. She would have to keep an eye on it though because it could easily attract foxes looking for an easy meal.

            With her day filled, she had forgotten her worries until night began to set in again, and the dread returned. Sofia prepared her dinner, and ate in silence as always, nothing but the crackle of fire in the hearth to keep her company—a reminder that she would inevitably have to go out to collect firewood the next day.

            As she turned in for the night, she thought that, maybe, whatever had been whistling out there the night before had been a fluke, but as midnight fell, there it was again, and to Sofia’s ears it seemed almost closer. 

            She huddled in the bed, the terror gripping her, until she finally realized that she couldn’t allow that. She was the only one out here. If she didn’t take care of things herself then no one would.

            So she got up and crossed the room to the window. Peeling the curtains back, she peered out into the darkness of the forest, barely lit with the light from the crescent moon.

            At first, she saw nothing and then her eyes briefly caught the flicker of something between two trees. Well, not so much something as the lack of anything. Just a dark void where there should be light and shadow, oozing out there, huge, looming.

            The whistling sound started up again, louder, more insistent.

            Sofia was frozen in the window, unable to run, unable to even look away. 

            Then just like that, the strange black void simply disappeared into the mist, and the horrible sound faded away for the moment.

            Sofia exhaled in relief, feeling her lungs finally start to unclench, but her relief was only short lived because as she took one last look around, she saw another dark figure looming in the night.

            The Watcher.

            Sofia felt the terror clench her throat once again. The figure was standing right inside the tree line of her clearing. It had never been that close before.

            Was it this being that was responsible for the disturbances recently?

            Sofia didn’t want to find out. She staggered back while the thing’s back was still turned toward her cabin and crawled back into bed, eyeing the axe that settled against the wall beside her woodpile. She wasn’t sure what that would do to something like the Watcher, but it made her feel a little better.

            Oddly, the horrible whistling seemed to have stopped for now, and when Sofia’s heart finally managed to calm down and stop trying to beat out of her chest, she lay back down to sleep, curled away from the window, afraid to catch sight of anything else.

            She must have passed out from pure exhaustion, though, because when she blinked her eyes open again it was morning.

            Sofia got up quickly and rushed to the window. The Watcher was no longer out there and she breathed a sigh of relief. If the whistling had returned, then she had been too deeply asleep to hear it.

            Somehow, she felt that as long as she stayed in the cabin she would be safe. She might be foolish to think that, but it was just a gut instinct.

            Feeling a little bolstered by a good night’s sleep, she decided it was time to stop putting off what she needed to do and after a quick breakfast, she grabbed her axe and went out to chop wood and, hopefully, find better prospects for game.

            As soon as she stepped out onto the little porch of the cabin though, she noticed the items at her feet.

            Firstly, there were several dark feathers like those belonging to a raven scattered around. And then there were the small branches and twigs that had been left right in front of her door, in too neat a pile to have landed there by accident. Sofia cautiously bent to pick up one of the twigs, seeing they were from a rowan tree. She frowned, confused and disturbed by their appearance. The ravens would sometimes bring her things since she left them scraps to eat on occasion but despite the feathers, this felt like a strange gift. Besides, when Sofia picked up one of the feathers, she saw how much longer it was than even a typical raven flight feather.

            She refused to let it bother her, however, and simply swept the branches and feathers off her porch with her foot before heading out on her way to do her chores.

            The forest felt normal that day, which was something of a comfort to Sofia. Perhaps whatever had been haunting her was just passing through. 

            She gathered some firewood closer to her cabin, chopping it and stacking it neatly against the back under the small shelter there to protect it from the weather. Then she went further afield, collecting and chopping more with her axe, loading the wood into her sling to carry it back. She thought she would check her snares again after this and if there still wasn’t anything in them, she would have to take them further into the woods. Just the thought sent a shiver down her spine, but she would have to find food at some point so it was a risk she was willing to take.

            She continued on her way, chopping good felled wood when she found it.

            The change was like stepping through a film of water. The woods had been alive with the usual sounds of its occupants rustling around and one step changed that entirely. Sofia stopped as still as a deer who had spotted danger. 

            She had experienced the silence of the woods when the Watcher would show up, but this wasn’t the same. The forest seemed darker here, no thin beams of sunlight filtering through the thinning oaks and evergreens. And it was cold. Colder than it should have been. This chill was bone deep and had nothing to do with the time of year. 

            It was almost like there were no animals here in this strange pocket of the woods. What was this?

            Both horrified and curious, Sofia stepped forward and something crunched under her foot. She looked down to see pale ivory sticking out of the loam and pine needles covering the ground.

            Bones. 

            As she looked back up she suddenly realized that there were bones everywhere in the small clearing. Piled and stacked together. Some buried, and others right on top with sinew still on them. 

            Sofia felt with a sudden certainty that this was not the work of an animal. Wolves roamed around, and even if they had a designated spot, they might not bother to drag their kills back to it. This was something else that she had never seen and it was terrifying.

            When Sofia came back to herself, she realized she was clutching the axe so tightly her knuckles whitened. She started to back slowly away from the clearing, deciding it was best not to disturb it. The fact that it wasn’t even that far from her cabin and she had never come across it before did not make Sofia feel better about any of this.

            Another bone crunched under her foot as she hurried and then…

            The whistling she had been hearing the last two nights slithered through the trees. The forest seemed to darken further and Sofia could see her breath from the cold. 

            Something dark slid between two tree trunks as the whistling sound only got louder and that was enough for Sofia.

            Her fight or flight response kicked in. She threw aside the wood she had been carrying, wanting to be as light as possible and ran, heart pounding in her throat. 

            She could not hear the thing behind her, it didn’t make noise moving, but she felt it, like the most suffocating darkness, reaching out to grab her. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder for fear of what she would actually see. She had her axe but she didn’t think it would help to use it against this…thing.

            And then…

            She staggered out into her own clearing, the cabin right in front of her. She heard a hiss as if of rage or disappointment as the whistling dissipated.

            Sofia didn’t stop, she ran directly into the cabin and slammed and barred the door.

            She slumped down against it, clutching her axe tightly, trying to catch her breath.

            It was several minutes before she had gathered herself and she finally got up and peered out one of the windows. 

            The forest was still deathly silent and darker than it should have been. She could see the thing that had chased her prowling around the perimeter of her clearing and her mouth was dry with horror. Its whistling was almost cajoling now, which was worse than the haunting tones of before.

            Sofia didn’t know what she was going to do. Whatever this thing was it was dangerous and she had no doubt that if it had caught her out there today, she would have joined that pile of bones.

            But that raised the question: why didn’t it come to the cabin?

            Perhaps it was the smoke that kept it away?

            With that thought, Sofia moved herself to put more wood on the fire. It might be a waste, especially considering the lack of wood she had collected that day, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. 

            It didn’t seem to make the thing disappear back further into the woods though. In fact, it continued to prowl around the perimeter of the clearing all afternoon and into the evening. 

            That night, it howled once more, the sound much louder now, more insistent. Sofia slept with her head under the pillow, trying to block out the sound.

            At some point during the night, after drifting off for a brief moment, she was startled by a horrible screeching sound and then finally everything went silent. 

            Only after that did Sofia truly fall asleep, feeling somehow that it wouldn’t come back, at least not that night. She didn’t quite have the courage to look out the window, honestly wished she had boarded it up instead.

            She woke late the next morning, still exhausted from bad sleep. The fire had gone out sometime during the night and she shivered in the cold cabin. She dragged on her thick socks and boots, and threw her coat around herself before she chanced venturing out of the cabin to grab more wood.

            She stopped directly on the porch. Like yesterday, there was something there, but there was no way this had been anything but deliberate.

            A brace of rabbits lay on the boards, along with more rowan twigs, but this time, they had been bound up into little bundles with rough string.

            Sofia looked around, heart in her throat, and finally demanded “Who are you?!”

            There was no answer, however, and she simply stood there for several long seconds shivering, before she grabbed the rabbits and brought them inside. She inspected them, but they had been cleanly slaughtered and drained, only leaving the skinning for her to do. It was undeniably a welcome addition to her larder. 

            Sofia cautiously headed back outside to grab wood for the stove. She cast another look at the strange bundles of rowan twigs. What was the purpose of that? Was it supposed to be a gift? Or was she meant to do something with it? It wasn’t like it was that special, there were rowan trees all over the clearing. She had always liked the red berries they produced, thought they were pretty…

            For the first time, Sofia realized that she had never really seen a rowan tree further than the river. In fact, most of them in the area seemed to be centered around the clearing.

            Curious, she bent to pick up one of the small bundles. 

            Did this have something to do with why that thing couldn’t get to her here? Was the rowan some kind of ward?

            A chill ran down her spine as she thought of the implication. Was she meant to have brought the rowan with her the day before? And if she had, would she have gotten chased by that thing?

            With that thought in mind, she took one of the bundles and tucked it into her coat pocket before she grabbed the rest of them and took them into the cabin, setting them onto the kitchen table.

            But the other thought in the back of her mind was that, if that was the case, then who had brought her the rowan in the first place?

            She thought briefly of the Watcher standing out in the clearing past the tree line the other night as the whistling sounded through the woods. Was it the culprit? And if so, why?

            These were things Sofia really didn’t want to think about at the moment, however, and decided to just go about her tasks as usual. Though she would definitely be keeping the rowan in her pocket from now on, just in case.

            She went about her tasks normally that day, and the forest felt the way it should again. She did cut a large swath around the area with the bone field in it. Sofia had no desire to ever see that again.

            She pulled more fish from the river and chopped more wood. The days were growing shorter so she felt like she didn’t get much done, but she was determined not to be out anywhere near nightfall since it always seemed to come back at that time.

            As she was gathering wood though, she noticed something, looking up at one of the rowan trees she had been thinking about earlier. The leaves were lush and the berries still grew bright red. Even though winter was settling in colder every day it looked no different than it had in the middle of summer. 

            Except one. Sofia had been pacing between the rowans, seeing that they really did appear to surround the clearing, when she came across one that was not green with berries like the others. In fact, this one wasn’t just bare for the winter, it looked like it was rotting.

            Sofia crouched down to inspect the base of the trunk and saw clear rot stretching into the trunk from the tree’s roots. 

            The sight left her uneasy. Was this just a natural occurrence, or…?

            Sofia stood swiftly and headed back to her cabin; she was done for the day anyway. 

            She finished with the rabbits and made up a quick stew. As it was cooking, she went back out and took all the rowan branches that had been left the day before, tacking them above the windows and leaving some in front of her door. She was going to take as many precautions as possible.

            It was several days before the whistling came in the night again. Sofia had hoped that maybe whatever that thing was had left and gone to haunt someone else, but apparently that wasn’t the case. 

            And really, she was all alone out here, who else was it going to haunt?

            Sofia was usually okay by herself. She always had been. The woods had always been there for her. But now, with this strange shift, it was almost like the woods had turned on her. Was no longer the lifelong friend she had known. It was now harboring an enemy who was set to destroy her.

            Midwinter was approaching, and Sofia had a feeling she needed to be ready. 

            But first she had to find the will to sleep through the night while having to listen to that insistent whistling sound that for some reason always compelled her to look out the window.

            Now that she was looking for it, she noticed that more of the rowan trees were dying, rotting away from the base. She concluded that it was not natural. It seemed like a new one died every time she heard the whistling at night.

            Sofia wondered what would happen when they all died, and clutched the small, still fresh, bunch of rowan that she always kept in her pocket now.

            Things were still showing up on her porch, mostly game. There was even a deer one morning, a blessing indeed for Sofia had been too wary to go far enough afield to hunt for venison to smoke and dry for the winter. She’d done what she could with the fish, but this would be a very welcome addition to her stores.

            She had stopped questioning the gifts. There were some things she would rather not know the answer to.

            There was another shift in the forest as the days got closer to midwinter. The first snowfall had left a powdery white blanket across her clearing. Sofia usually loved the first snow, it was always so clean and crisp, but this year, she couldn’t ignore the dark, oppressive feeling encroaching on her cabin. It seeped in like a poison, and maybe that’s what it was. She had counted the day before. There were only ten rowan trees left alive. 

            Ten days until midwinter. She didn’t think that was a coincidence. 

            The oppressive feeling got worse. There was no wildlife left in the surrounding area. Not even fish in the stream—when Sofia ventured there. She had been so hesitant to leave the immediate vicinity of the cabin, that she had been mostly melting snow for water. She didn’t think she imagined the physical darkness either. It wasn’t just from the natural shift of the sun, or the days getting longer. There was a genuine deepening of the shadows past the trees, an oozing black that Sofia feared would overtake her.

            But she had nowhere to go. She had no other option but to stand her ground and she was determined to do that.

            So she did what she could. Pulling down as many branches from the remaining rowan trees that she could get to and weaving some sort of barrier around the cabin with them. She hadn’t gotten a gift for a while, but her…protector?...had taught her what to do and she would use that knowledge.

            She had not seen the Watcher for days either. Maybe whatever else was out there had finally scared it off.

            For some reason that caused a heavy pit to form in Sofia’s stomach.

            Maybe she really was, finally, all alone.

            Counting down the days, counting the dying rowan trees, until whatever was going on in these woods finally came to a head and either she came out the other side, triumphant, or she didn’t have to worry about anything ever again.

            Midwinter night fell with an impending sense of dread. 

            Sofia watched the sun slip behind the trees, wanting to beg it to stay, but knew that she had to be brave because no one else would do that for her.

            She checked her barrier of rowan and barred the door to the cabin as darkness fell. She sat there in the main room, holding onto a stake she had made out of a larger rowan branch, her axe also close to her side. The fire was crackling, glowing heartily in the little oven, but it didn’t ward off the shivers that would come intermittently. They didn’t have anything to do with the cold.

            And then, as the sun finally slipped below the horizon, the whistling started.

            But this time, it was louder than Sofia had ever heard it. Shrieking tones that tore into her head, forcing her to cover her ears. It made it impossible to think, maddening almost. It was close. So close.

            Then somewhere through the shrieking, she heard the cracks and snaps of branches being violently broken. An ill wind picked up.

            It was coming.

            Sofia could no longer stay in her seat by the fire. She got up, stake and axe clutched tightly in her hands as she made her way to the window, taking a cautious look out.

            Red eyes in the darkness locked directly on her. Sofia staggered back as the whistling came, now tinged in a cry of victory and the eyes and dark void attached to them surged forward.

            Sofia couldn’t stop the scream that came from her throat as she scrambled back until she hit the wall. The sound of claws scratching the outside of the cabin frantically as if the thing was trying to tear its way inside grated to her very bones, gripping her heart with fear.

            Let it come, something in Sofia suddenly said and, finally, it was like, being face to face with this thing, she felt a sense of resignation. If it wanted her so badly, it was going to have to come and drag her out.

            The scratching stopped briefly and Sofia’s breath caught in her throat, not daring to hope that it would give up that quickly.

            She was right, because another shriek came before there was furious scratching at the glass of the window in her bedroom. Sofia had put rowan on the sill but it didn’t seem to be doing any good now. Whatever this was seemed to have been strengthened by the darkness of midwinter night. 

            There was a crack in the glass, and Sofia scrambled upright, standing there in the middle of the small cabin, staring directly at the window the thing was trying to enter through. With one more earsplitting whistle, the glass shattered and it squeezed in.

            Sofia knew in that instant that if she lived past this night, the image would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. It had no real form that she could make out, and yet it was like it was made of everything terrible. Claws and teeth and glowing eyes, all muddled up in a void that was so far from being part of this world that it was almost unfathomable.

            It oozed through the window, claws tearing into the walls as it forced its way into Sofia’s sanctuary.

            She stood there, facing it, heart racing and feeling like she couldn’t breathe, but she stood her ground, the rowan spear clutched tightly in her hand.

            The thing gave another triumphant whistle and surged forward, right toward Sofia.

            Sofia dropped her axe and put all her strength into holding the spear out in front of her. At the last second, as claws reached for her, she surged forward herself, with a defiant scream and thrust the spear toward the dark mass bearing down on her.

            Sofia slammed her eyes shut, and heard a horrible scream of pain as the spear found something solid in the seemingly amorphous mass. 

            She opened her eyes to see it had gone through where the thing’s shoulder should be, the area around it fading to tar-like black as if the rowan was dissipating the creature all together.

            But it obviously wasn’t enough to finish it off entirely, because it furiously struck out at her with another earsplitting shriek. Its claws tore through Sofia’s coat sleeve and flesh, throwing her across the room into the wall.

            She slammed into it hard, all the breath knocked from her lungs. For too long of a second she lay there, gasping, her arm in agony, watching as the thing ripped the spear from its body and flung it almost contemptuously aside. 

            It took a lumbering step toward her, whistling in fury.

            Sofia looked around frantically, seeing her axe where she had dropped it. If she was quick, she might be able to grab it…

            With a cry, she pushed herself to her knees and lunged for the axe at the same time the monster went for her again.

            Her hand clenched around the haft of the axe as claws clamped around her arm, pinning it and the axe to the floor.

            Sofia pulled desperately to free herself, refusing to go out like this. 

            This thing smelled like death, especially close like this, and Sofia choked on the fetid smell as it leaned closer, taking its time now that it had her cornered. She stared up at it defiantly, refusing to back down.

            The door then slammed open with a huge gust of wind and a swirl of raven feathers. 

            The monster screeched in fury and Sofia turned to see the Watcher looming in the doorway before making its way inside. It seemed bigger, stooping under the mantle, power obvious in its mannerisms as it glided more than walked into the cabin.

            The monster staggered away from Sofia and she scrambled back just in time for the Watcher to lunge and grab onto the thing.

            The whistling shriek grew impossibly louder, until Sofia was forced to curl up in the corner, hands over her ears, screaming along with it as if that would alleviate the terrible sound. 

            The wind whipped through the cabin, throwing things everywhere, clattering pots in the kitchen. Then the Watcher was dragging the thing out of the cabin as it clawed the floor, leaving huge marks in the wood. Sofia watched in horror as it was finally pulled out the door, which then slammed shut.

            The sounds of furious whistling and a massive struggle continued for what felt like an eternity as Sofia huddled there on the floor, her nerves shattered in relief at still being alive.

            It must have been too much for her body to handle all at once because she fell unconscious, unbothered by the horrible sounds coming from the forest outside.

***

Sofia came to slowly. The light of the dawn was coming through the windows, and it took her a long moment to figure out where she was.

            Then she realized she was on the floor on the far side of the kitchen. She pushed herself up, wincing with a gasp as she felt the pull of scabs on her arm. She glanced down and saw the bloody tears in her coat. Her axe and the broken rowan spear were lying nearby. The cabin was a mess, broken glass scattered from the window in her bedroom, claw marks scratched across the floor.

            And raven feathers.

            All reminders that last night had actually happened.

            Sofia pushed herself to her feet and rushed to the door, throwing it open.

            Birds sang in the trees. She could hear squirrels chattering, running through the snow before quickly retreating to their warm nests. Everything felt as it should again. She went to grab a bucket of fresh water from the river to wash her arm and make tea and noticed all the fish were there too, even a deer drinking water from further down the stream.

            It felt so normal that Sofia might have thought it had all been a dream except for the fact that her arm had been clawed open and there was a disaster back in her cabin.

            As she was carrying the water back, she spotted the dark figure standing in the center of the clearing. For a second her heart skipped a beat, but it was just the Watcher. Dark robes and deer skull. 

            She had come to realize that she had never had to worry about the Watcher, that, maybe, it had always been there to look after her. A silent protector. Of these woods, and of her. 

            There was a comfort in that that Sofia had never realized until last night. She also suspected it was this apparition that had been responsible for all the game and rowan left on her doorstep.

            “Who are you?” she asked it compulsively. “What are you?”

            The Watcher turned as if to look at her with the empty eyes of the deer skull. It did not reply—perhaps it couldn’t—it simply cocked its head to one side, considering her.

            Sofia clutched her bucket in cold hands. “Thank you,” she said instead.

            This time the Watcher gave a nod, and then seemed to fade slightly in the early morning light. A breeze picked up and soon there was nothing left but several raven feathers lying in the show.

            Sofia reverently picked them up, taking them into the cabin with her and collecting the other feathers along with them, placing them in a small pot on the window sill. For some reason these felt more like a protective talisman than the rowan had.

            It was a while before Sofia saw the watcher again, but every time she did now, it brought a comfort to her instead of unease. As far as she could tell there was no sign of whatever that other monster had been. She’d even ventured toward the bone field one day and found it all gone, as clear as it ever had been. Wildlife had come back to that part of the forest, and even though it was winter, Sofia’s traps were plentiful. And whenever they weren’t, something was always bound to appear of her porch. 

            She even found new rowan trees growing from the dead ones around her clearing come spring. It seemed that the forest was repairing itself after that creature had tried its best to destroy it with no avail.

            The forest could be a dark and dangerous place sometimes, but Sofia would always consider it home. And she knew that as long as the Watcher was out there somewhere, she, and the forest, had nothing to fear.