An hour had passed since Sebastian's less-than-successful escape attempts. His mind was in shambles, weighed down by a bucket of defeat and the pinch of hope left slowly being strangled by the passage of time.
It just didn't make sense, he thought, lying down and staring at the sky, which proved utterly useless in offering any form of guidance.
he had thought the sun's position would act as an unshakable compass.
The bush shook as Chloe re-entered the clearing, walking to his left side before decisively slumping down next to him."
"No luck, huh?" he asked spitefully.
"None," she responded in turn, with just as much spite—though it seemed aimed at… him? This made him jump slightly, his ears twitching at the tone she used.
"Who's that tone aimed at—me or this circumstance?" he asked, looking at her annoying, but pretty face.
"Both, but mostly you," she replied, with just as much—maybe even more—spite than before.
"Huh, did I hear that correctly?" he dragged his ear out, angling it toward her. "Perhaps I heard wrong, because I frankly remem—"
"It's your fault! Wasting my time. If you'd sped up, we might've left this shitty place before anything started!" she interrupted angrily.
"Wait, what?" his mind went blank. "Surely you jest." He stopped, pressing his fingers to his temple as veins pulsed.
"I—wasted your time… doing fucking what? Standing here, telling you not to enter this obviously suspicious clearing, this cliché of a trap, and you're saying I—yours truly—wasted your time?" His mouth twitched. "You must be on a truckload of drugs," he turned around fuming he was tired of everything at this point no need wasting energy on this woman.
She ignored him and walked over to the plant, shoveling dirt into the undug section frantically. He looked over briefly, then gave up sinking back into his melancholic sea of thoughts comprising mainly of Why the fuck I followed her.
It was the same cycle everyone went through after doing something stupid: starting with the truly harsh cursing of their past self—who, quite frankly, would curse back if it could, after all, you made the decision—then moving on to the cursing of fate, or, as they say, rotten luck. Its effects, one could argue, were probably fully expended at the moment of the stupid choice. After all, you're still able to curse it—unlike the others, who simply can't. The dead can't sing after all.
3 hours later… 7pm
He had remained in the supine position, falling asleep out of sheer boredom. Emotionally, he had reached acceptance. He'd gone through the normal cycle: passing blame when shit hits, self-blame, despair, crying, more despair, anger at himself and, obviously, Chloe, and finally, after accepting that what's done is done, he decided he might as well wait for his death while sleeping—mainly so it could come and go without him noticing.
Life, however, remained nothing but cruel. The area was exceptionally calm… well, that was until he woke to see the bush they had entered earlier begin to shake. He dashed up, scanning for Chloe, spotting her a few meters away. The sight forced him fully awake, This followed with him making a frantic dash behind the serpentine tree where he began crouching and watching.
Heh… let's see what happens now.
His thoughts were interrupted by Chloe dashing up too—but the entity had already stepped out. It was a middle-aged man, dressed for a forest hike, flashlight mounted on his head (though turned off). Following him was a woman in her twenties and another guy with an odd haircut and peculiar glasses perched on his nose.
They stopped immediately, whispering to each other. The middle-aged man, likely the leader, turned toward Chloe.
"Umm, hi… sorry if we startled you. We kind of thought we'd be the first here, or perhaps the only ones brave enough, you know, with today being Halloween and all."
He coughed, wiping his hand on his trousers, then scratched a balding spot on his head.
"I'm going to assume you came to produce content… though coming alone isn't exactly a great idea."
"I didn't," Chloe replied, pointing toward my position. "I came with that… chicken over there."
Who the hell are you calling chicken, and why are you pointing me out?
"Chicken? Oh, you mean… oh, I get it. Hello, little man over there. We won't bite," he said, waving warmly.
little man your grandma
Chloe began walking toward my position, still speaking with her back to them. "So, you're human, I assume?"
$%%^^&"*() — I cursed her with every disgusting word I could think of. She dared to ask such a question what was the sentence they say in such a situation courting death
The man and his team exchanged confused looks, then nodded in agreement.
"Okay, I have a number of questions for you. Please answer them so we don't have any… enmity between us," she stated icily as she reached my side, seeking the odd-looking tree for cover.
Enmity? You should be trying to curry favor with them, not threatening the ghost—or is she trying to get both of us killed. This woman must have balls under there.
If someone where to look at his face at the moment they would see hot tears cascading down
The suspicion they had for the group was overwhelming for several reasons. First, the reserve should be closed to the public—perhaps open only to police searching for them after all, it had been 2–3 hours since they went missing. Second, the park was closed. How did these "humans" enter? Did they play hide-and-seek with the guards and police? Even if not, surely someone would have noticed them sneaking through, especially with all that equipment.
"In the Seats, name one of the five families. Just one. Actually, scratch that—name the latest one to come into power," Chloe demanded.
An easy but significant question. Everyone knew "The Seats" were the highest authority in the country—maybe the world, assuming their country was the only one left. It consisted of five powerful families and five elected groups. The presidential system was gone, replaced by a council. Any decision was voted on by the ten groups. The five chosen by the people were investigated monthly for corruption, ensuring a fair chance against the aristocrats.
"The Blac…k Moon—or was it the Wood group? Not really interested in politics, so I might have got it wrong," the man replied.
"It's the Blackwood group," the woman behind him corrected.
Chloe nodded before continuing. "And how are you guys here at this time?"
"We camped," the girl spoke up hastily.
"More like hid and waited… though today proved difficult since it seemed they were searching for someone," the guy with the glasses added tiredly, dropping his bag.
the woman shot him a dirty look.
We exchanged glances and then bolted, running past them into the bush. This probably scared the hell out of them—I saw the guy with the glasses drop to the ground in surprise. A few seconds later, we returned, cursing furiously on seeing them again.
"Is there a problem?" the glasses guy asked, adjusting the multiple lenses on his frames.
We looked at them, sighed, and slumped down in defeat.