Luciferin

By Kuya B.

Google Doc Link

Kirsten Kolbeck - December 1

Bioluminescence in Terrestrial Arthropods: Communication, Survival, and Evolutionary Trade-Offs 

Introduction:
Bioluminescence—the emission of light by living organisms—has fascinated humans for centuries. While it's most famously associated with deep-sea creatures, several terrestrial species also exhibit this phenomenon. Among them, fireflies (family Lampyridae) stand out as some of the most studied and iconic bioluminescent organisms. Over 2,000 species of fireflies have been described globally, and more remain undocumented, particularly in underexplored tropical regions.

Although bioluminescence is widespread among marine species, its evolution on land is rare and likely arose independently in multiple lineages. Fireflies are a prime example, and their glowing traits provide insight into the evolutionary trade-offs that shaped them.

The Origins of Light in the Dark:
In fireflies, bioluminescence is achieved through a chemical reaction involving luciferin, the enzyme luciferase, oxygen, ATP, and magnesium ions. The result is a “cold light” emission—meaning it produces very little heat.

Current evidence suggests bioluminescence in fireflies first evolved in the larval stage as a form of aposematism, or warning coloration, to deter predators. Many larvae produce distasteful or toxic compounds, and their glow may signal this unpalatability—a form of honest signaling in evolutionary terms.

Later, bioluminescence was co-opted by adults, particularly for use in mating communication. In most species, males fly and emit species-specific light patterns, while females respond from vegetation below. This process ensures mate recognition and species isolation, even in overlapping habitats. Ethologists have found this to be a classic case of sexual selection acting on a sensory signal, shaped both by environmental conditions and predator-prey dynamics.

Trade-Offs and Risks:

Despite its benefits, bioluminescence poses potential risks—namely increased visibility to predators such as bats, frogs, and spiders. However, some fireflies have evolved secondary defenses, such as noxious chemicals or mimicry. For example, Photuris females can mimic the flash patterns of other firefly species to lure in and consume unsuspecting males—a behavior known as “aggressive mimicry.”

This complexity underscores the evolutionary arms race between signaling and survival—how organisms must balance the need to attract mates with the need to avoid predators.

Speculation: 

Bioluminescence in Isolated Ecosystems:
Consider a hypothetical population of bioluminescent insects isolated in an extreme terrestrial environment—such as a geothermal cave system in the Arctic tundra. Such an ecosystem might sustain itself through microbial or fungal networks feeding off geothermal energy. If bioluminescence originally served as aposematism or sexual signaling in a prior habitat, how would it adapt in this new niche? 

In the absence of traditional light sources, bioluminescence could evolve to aid in short-range navigation, prey detection, or even intraspecific coordination in total darkness. This would be an example of exaptation—where a trait evolved for one purpose is co-opted for another in response to novel selective pressures.

From an ethologist’s perspective, it would be essential to examine not just the light itself, but the behavior surrounding its use: flash timing, response latency, predator interaction, and whether the signal remains honest or becomes deceptive. Blah blah blah this sucks.

A young blonde girl fidgeted in her seat, careful not to disturb the sleeping figure slumped against her shoulder. Behind thin glasses, her blue eyes shimmered in the pale glow of her laptop screen as she reread her presentation for the hundredth time.

Kirsten—though everyone called her Kiki—stifled a yawn and closed the laptop with a soft click. She slipped off her glasses and polished them with the sleeve of her black turtleneck, moving gently so as not to wake Riley. Her friend, tall and athletic with jet-black hair, snored faintly, her head resting on Kiki’s shoulder.

Kiki turned her gaze to the frost-laced train window, half-lidded eyes catching the blur of snow-draped conifers whipping past. The rhythmic clatter of steel on track, mixed with the hypnotic repetition of trees, began to lull her into a light doze.

The forest eventually sloped downward, revealing a vast sheet of ice gleaming beneath the moonlight. Kiki straightened, her drowsiness vanishing. The lake stretched out like glass—frozen, silver-blue, and ethereal. It caught the moon’s reflection with surreal clarity. 

On either side, the dark woodland framed the scene. Awestruck, Kiki instinctively lifted the camera hanging around her neck and snapped a photo. She hesitated for a moment, then shook her friend awake.

“Riley,” she whispered urgently, “look at this!”

Riley stirred, eyes dreary. “Are we there?”

“Just look.” Kiki tugged her over and pressed her face toward the window.

The two girls leaned in. Beyond the lake, a jagged mountain rose from the horizon like a blade against the sky. Its snow-dusted peak shimmered with an eerie bluish hue, touched by the moon. The dense forest at its base spread out like a black sea, treacherous and foreboding.

Kiki’s stomach churned as her gaze lingered on the shadowy woodland. They would soon be hiking through that same forest—an idea that both terrified and thrilled her. She glanced at Riley, whose wide-eyed expression showed only raw excitement.

Swallowing hard, Kiki returned her gaze to the trees. Something about the moonlit wilderness felt wrong, though she couldn’t quite say why. All she knew was that turning back was no longer an option.

Drops of Scarlett

Luciferin

Chapter 1

Riley took in the exquisite scene until the next tree-covered hillside obstructed her view. “That’s it, Kiki—Luna Lake and Mount Blackwood. We’ll be at the station soon.”

“Finally,” Kiki sighed, leaning her head against the window. “I love traveling, but after a five-hour plane ride and a six-hour train, I’m ready to swear off traveling forever.”

Riley stretched, her joints cracking audibly. “Hey, the good news is we get to do it all again in three days.”

Kiki groaned as she slumped lower in her seat. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Outside, the train carved through the snowy wilderness. The horizon, once black, now glowed faintly with purple twilight. According to the schedule, they were due by 6 a.m.—and the soft deceleration of the wheels signaled their arrival. Around them, a handful of groggy passengers stirred, gathering their things in the dim light.

With a sharp screech and a low mechanical groan, the train came to a stop.

“Alright! Welcome to Starport Station,” Riley announced with mock grandeur, hoisting a massive backpack over one shoulder. She retrieved a tall roller suitcase from the overhead rack like it weighed nothing.

Kiki wasn’t quite so graceful. Burdened by her oversized hiking pack, she struggled to stand and let out a frustrated puff of air as she straightened up. The two stepped off the train and onto the frost-covered concrete platform.

The interior of the station wasn’t much warmer. Dimly lit and eerily silent, it looked more like a forgotten relic than an active travel hub. Dusty brochure racks offered faded ads for cabins and trail tours. Velvet ropes, meant to manage long-vanished crowds, sagged limply between tarnished brass posts. A faint smell of old wood and neglect hung in the air.

“This place is kinda creepy,” Kiki muttered, her soft voice echoing in the otherwise silent building. 

Riley glanced around, unbothered. “Yeah, but it wasn’t always like this. When I was a kid, it was packed—like, good luck getting a cabin in the summer kind of packed. Now? Tourism’s way down. And since it’s winter, it’s extra dead.”

“What happened?” Kiki asked as they made their way toward the exit.

Riley shrugged. “It wasn’t one big thing. A bunch of little issues just piled up. Fewer tourists meant less money to keep the attractions going. Stuff got run-down, and people stopped coming. Plus, the local tribes have been pushing back hard against land use—protests, lawsuits, all that. Makes investors nervous.”

Kiki cast a glance at the faded posters clinging to the walls—ski lodges, fishing charters, hiking adventures. Each one felt like a postcard from a forgotten era. A pang of melancholy struck her, suddenly feeling nostalgic for a time she’d never experienced. “It’s sad to see it like this. Looks like it used to be so much fun.”

“It was the best,” Riley said, her expression lighting up beneath her memories. “Every summer, me and my dad came up here with my cousins. We’d rent a cabin, go fishing, camping, snowboarding—those were the days.”

Kiki smirked and nudged her with an elbow. “Too bad you hated me in high school. I might’ve gotten an invite.”

“Don’t flatter yourself—I hated everyone in high school.” Riley laughed and nudged her back. Kiki, unbalanced by her pack, stumbled into the wall with a squeak.

Before she could retaliate, a gust of frigid air tore through the station. The exit door ahead burst open, slamming repeatedly as the wind howled through a drift of snow piled against it. The door rattled, unable to latch. Kiki shivered and pulled her hood tight, the icy breeze biting into her cheeks.

Riley strode ahead and kicked the snow clear of the door, holding it open as another blast of cold air swept inside. “Come on,” she said, waving Kiki through.

Kiki trudged onto the snow-covered sidewalk, her boots crunching against the packed ice. The cold gnawed at her legs, and every step with her overloaded backpack sent a fresh ache through her muscles. Riley followed, letting the door swing shut behind them with a heavy click, then pointed down the street.

“The rental place is just a block that way,” Riley said, nodding toward a barely visible sign shrouded by the swirling snow. “You gonna make it?”

Kiki forced a smile, despite the burning in her thighs. “Yeah… this is nothing.”

“Good, because if you can’t handle this then you’ve got no shot at hiking through the forest for two hours.” Without another word, Riley pushed forward, her boots crunching confidently through the snowdrifts.

Kiki hesitated for just a moment, anxiety prickling along her spine as she considered the hike ahead. Then she adjusted her grip on her backpack straps and followed, trudging in Riley’s footprints like a shadow chasing its source.

After what felt like a small eternity, they arrived at a simple building tucked between two towering snowbanks. A hand-painted wooden sign, weathered and nearly hidden beneath a sheet of ice, identified it simply as Rentals. Brushing snow from their sleeves, the girls stepped inside.

Warmth enveloped them instantly, along with the scent of woodsmoke and faint engine oil. Behind the counter sat a broad-shouldered tribal man with long black hair tied in a single braid. His weathered face was stoic, but his voice, when he spoke, carried a gruff warmth. “Welcome. What brings you young ladies in today?”

Riley fished her phone from her coat and opened a confirmation email. “We need a UTV to get to the cabins at Luna Lake.”

He adjusted a pair of reading glasses low on his nose, scanned the screen, then gave a slow nod. “Can do.”

Kiki leaned in close and whispered, “What’s a UTV?”

Riley smirked. “You’ll see.”

The man slid a clipboard and pen across the counter and tapped a signature line. “Green one in spot number three. Just sign here. And if you get in trouble, call this number.” His tone had taken on a strained politeness, the kind that suggested he’d rather be anywhere else.

Once the paperwork was signed, he slumped back into his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “I gotta ask, though—what brings y’all to Luna Lake in the middle of winter? Ain’t exactly the coziest time o’ year.”

Riley scratched her head, chuckling. “My friend here wants to find some bugs for a school report.”

He simply raised an eyebrow. 

Kiki stepped forward, shoving Riley aside with a sharp elbow and forcing a bright, professional smile. “Actually, we’re here to observe bioluminescent beetle larvae—possibly an undescribed species. They’re rumored to hatch near a geothermal spring in this region, and I’m hoping to study their behavior in a cold-adapted microhabitat. If confirmed, it would be a significant ethological find.”

The old man stroked his beard with a face of bewilderment. “Huh. Well, I been all over those mountains, and I ain’t never seen no glowin’ beetles. Y’all sure you got the right place?”

“We’re sure,” Riley said flatly, grabbing Kiki’s sleeve and tugging her toward the door. “Thanks for the ride.”

The man leaned back in his chair, raising a hand in a casual wave. “Alright, I guess. Have fun—and try to be safe out there. Them woods can be dangerous, ya know.”

Only as he lowered his hand did Kiki notice he was missing three fingers. She stared for a moment, her stomach knotting, but Riley tugged her toward the door before she could ask anything.

Outside, Riley twirled the keys around her finger, grinning as the cold air hit her face. “Come on, no time to waste,” she said, pulling her luggage in her other hand.

Kiki followed hesitantly, the man’s warning still echoing in her ears. They rounded the corner to a small, two-seater UTV parked in spot number three. It sat high off the ground, its body caked in snow and supported by four compact tractor treads instead of tires.

Kiki walked around it in a slow circle, marveling. “Oh wow… This is fascinating. The modular tread system alone is impressive enough. But, are you sure this is okay to take off-road?”

“Okay? It’s perfect,” Riley replied as she stacked her bags neatly in the back. “This bad boy’s a Bobcat Snow Prowler. A regular car would get stuck out here in no time. No snowplows come through the national park roads, and the side trails we’re using? Forget it. That’s why I made sure we got this.”

Kiki dropped her pack beside Riley’s and gazed at the surrounding forest, the trees now half-swallowed by falling snow. Somewhere beneath the expanse of ice, hot springs pulsed—warmth and life hidden in a frozen world.

“Well, you’re the expert here. I’ll just trust what you say. I assume you know how to drive this thing and don’t plan to kill us.” Kiki tightened her scarf, then hopped onto the footboard to climb into the passenger seat. 

Riley scoffed as she waved her friend off. “Relax, my dad always used to let me drive these when we came without my mom. I’ve pretty much mastered it.”

Kiki cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you only fourteen the last time you came here?”

Riley’s smile fell flat for a moment. “It’s not a big deal, Kiki, really. Watch this.”

With a confident flourish, she turned the key and brought the vehicle roaring to life. The engine hummed steadily, and Riley put it into drive, expertly steering it toward a snowbank blocking their path. The Bobcat climbed effortlessly over the mound, and the suspension flexed with each uneven bump. Inside the cabin, the ride was surprisingly smooth despite the snowy terrain.

Kiki gripped the grab-handle above her seat tightly, her eyes fixed on the snowy expanse beyond the UTV’s windshield. There was no visible road ahead—just an endless, pristine white blanket—but the Snow Prowler crawled forward without hesitation, the hum of its engine the only sound against the stillness. 

“Alright,” she muttered. “I’m convinced. These things really are the best.”

“Don’t worry about anything while we’re here,” Riley said with a grin, her gloved hands steady on the wheel. “I’ll make sure you see all the best this place has to offer.”

They pressed on. The flat expanse of snow gradually gave way to a looming wall of trees. A narrow trail wound through the forest, hemmed in by towering evergreens heavy with snow. The branches sagged low, hanging like claws overhead. Despite the time—nearly noon—the sky above remained a deep violet, with stars still faintly scattered across the horizon. The UTV’s headlights pierced the gloom, but their beams seemed to vanish quickly into the forest’s dense, black maw.

Kiki shifted in her seat, a ripple of unease curling in her stomach. “I know you just said not to worry, but… this is kind of spooky.”

Riley rolled her eyes and laughed softly. “God, you’re such a scaredy cat. We’ll reach the clearing by the lake soon. It’s gonna be beautiful. Trust me.”

Kiki leaned forward to peer into the darkness ahead. The forest felt hopelessly dense. The beams from the headlights flickered across gnarled trunks and shifting shadows. Her fingers closed around her camera, half-expecting to see movement flicker between the trees. “Is it going to be this dark when we hike to the hot spring cave?”

“This part of the forest is, like, extra thick,” Riley said, navigating a sharp bend. “It’ll open up more once we head north from the cabin. We’ll leave tomorrow around three. That’s when it gets the brightest—even if the sun never rises.”

Kiki frowned, her gaze drifting to the edge of the horizon, where the faintest shimmer of twilight clung to the sky. “It’s so strange... no sun for months. I wonder what effect that has on the ecosystem. Circadian rhythms, hormonal shifts, feeding patterns—there must be some adaptive responses I don’t recall ever studying before.”

Riley shrugged. “If you ask me, most of them just peace out. The bears hibernate, and everything else probably just heads south for the winter or whatever.”

Kiki raised an eyebrow. “Not everything migrates. Wolverines, wolves… even moose and caribou stay through winter.”

“Yeah, true,” Riley admitted. “My dad used to spot moose tracks near the cabin sometimes. Down by the coast you get polar bears and walruses and all that. But out here? It’s quiet.”

Kiki turned her camera over in her hands, still watching the dark forest pass by. “Quiet doesn’t mean empty. We might see something… if we’re paying attention.”

As the path widened, a faint light began to illuminate their way. The sky came into view, casting a dim purple glow over the snow. The UTV emerged from the forest, revealing an awe-inspiring panorama. To their left stretched the vast, frozen Luna Lake, its icy surface shimmering faintly beneath the starlit sky. To the right, Mount Blackwood loomed like a sleeping giant, its jagged silhouette rising into the dim sky.

“Wow…” Kiki covered her mouth as her wide eyes took in the sight. “It’s so beautiful. Luna Lake… named after the moon I suppose.”

Riley kept her focus on the path ahead, though a nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. “Sounds kinda space-themed, right? The city nearby is called Starport, too. When I was a kid, I used to think spaceships landed here or something.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh before continuing. “Actually, it’s called Luna Lake because the explorers said the ice reflected the moon so brightly it looked like a second moon on the ground. And Starport got its name because you can see stars no matter what time of day it is. Back then, astronomy was huge—only real way to navigate up here, since compasses don’t work right.”

Kiki stared out over the glassy lake, imagining the explorers watching the moon mirrored in the ice. “So cool…”

Riley glanced over at her, her usual confidence softening for a moment. Watching Kiki’s wonder-filled expression, she couldn’t help but smile. “Hey, check it out. Our cabin’s just up ahead.”

A two-story wooden lodge came into view, nestled between two towering evergreens. Snow blanketed the roof and clung to the protruding logs, giving the cabin the appearance of a picture-perfect winter retreat, like an image on a Christmas card. 

Kiki’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “Oh wow, it looks so cozy! And… wait, you own this now?”

“Yeah, more or less.” Riley shrugged as she guided the UTV to a stop in front of the cabin. “Technically, my mom still owns it since it got put in her name after the divorce, but that dumb bitch hasn’t set foot here in years.” 

Her expression hardened slightly, her tone growing sharper. “Plus I stole the deed right out of her house, so she can’t keep trying to sell it. Also she knows I’d literally kill her if she ever did…” Riley trailed off, raising her eyebrows with a forced laugh. “So yeah, let’s just say this is my cabin now.”

Kiki recoiled slightly and furrowed her brow. “I almost forgot how strained your relationship is with your mom.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not ruin the vibe by talking about her too much,” Riley said quickly, hopping out of the UTV. She glanced up at the cabin, her grin returning. “C’mon, time to blow about ten years worth of dust off this place.”

Kiki’s wobbly frown returned as she clumsily climbed off the UTV and into the snow, her boots sinking deeper than expected. “I really hope we don’t die out here.”

“Drama queen,” Riley called out as she was already heading around the side of the cabin.

Kiki watched her friend disappear around the corner before reluctantly trudging after her. By the time she caught up, Riley was prying open the weathered door of an old shed. Inside sat a heavy breaker box and a rust-streaked generator. She flipped the large switch on the breaker, and a few stray sparks shot to the floor, followed by a low, humming buzz.

“Nice. We got juice.” Riley clapped her gloves together and bent to open a valve on the generator’s fuel tank. Thick black oil drained sluggishly into a metal pan. 

“We’ll head into Starport after we unpack,” she said. “Pick up some fresh gas for this thing just in case.”

Kiki lingered in the doorway, arms folded tightly across her chest. “Makes sense.”

They circled back to the front. As Riley dug through her pack for the keys, Kiki’s gaze wandered across the lakeshore. Other cabins stood in the distance—just faint silhouettes along the tree line. Each had its own narrow power line, but none showed any signs of life. No smoke, no lights. No footprints. No tire tracks. Only the untouched hush of snowfall.

A sharp crack echoed as the door finally gave way. 

“Gotta replace that soon,” Riley muttered, shouldering it open.

Inside, the air was cold and stale, thick with the scent of dry rot and dust. Every surface wore a fine, undisturbed layer of neglect. Cobwebs clung to corners like gauze, shifting slightly in the draft that followed them in.

Yet beneath the disarray, the cabin held onto its rustic charm. Knickknacks lined the shelves—wood carvings of animals, antique lanterns, faded photographs in rusty frames. A sense of longing clung to the place, as though it had once been loved deeply yet abandoned too suddenly.

Kiki let her backpack slump to the floor and rubbed her arms for warmth. “Cozy,” she muttered.

Unbothered, Riley rolled up her sleeves. “Take a seat. I’ll get a fire going and dust the place off a little.”

Kiki nodded absently and wandered to a shadowed corner. As she knelt down, her fingers brushed the brittle husk of a spider’s exoskeleton. She slowly raised her eyes to the wall above, where a near-perfect web stretched across the upper corner—fine as thread, glistening with dust. At its center sat a brown orb-weaver, motionless. Its web was vacant, except for a single curled moose fly—its body shriveled like a leaf. Scattered below were the dried-out remains of other insects, cast aside.

“Looks like you’ll be waiting a while for your next meal…” Kiki muttered toward the spider.

She stood and brushed off her knees, then stepped outside to haul their luggage inside. After dragging the bags through the snow, she grabbed a broom propped near the wall and began sweeping the floor. Dust and cobwebs clung stubbornly to every corner. Kiki moved carefully around the tiny inhabitants that had claimed the cabin, sparing the spiders when she could. “Good thing this place is small,” she said. “It won’t take long to clean up with the two of us.”

Riley grinned from ear to ear, a forgotten feeling welling up inside. “Yeah, you’re right. If you wanna sweep down here, I’ll take care of upstairs real quick. Then we'll start a fire!”

Kiki nodded, her broom scraping rhythmically along the floorboards as Riley bounded up the steps, her footsteps loud and fleeting in the hollow quiet. 

As she swept, Kiki’s eyes drifted to the fireplace mantle where several picture frames lay face-down beneath a veil of dust. She hesitated, then gently picked one up and wiped it clean.

The first photo showed two beaming parents kneeling beside a much-younger Riley, her smile comically oversized for her tiny face. Kiki flipped the next frame. An older Riley stood on a frozen lake, proudly clutching a fish she’d pulled from the ice. Even through the faded colors, her joy was unmistakable.

The last photo made Kiki pause. Teenage Riley stood beside her father, bundled in sleek snowboarding gear. Both were grinning, cheeks flushed with cold and pride. There was something raw and untouched in the image—a pocket of pure happiness, frozen in time. She looked so happy, Kiki thought, a knot tightening in her chest.

Her gaze wandered around the room, searching for more clues of the past. A dusty snowboard leaned against the far corner. The coffee table held forgotten mugs and plates, their edges browned with age. A folded newspaper rested beneath them, its headline mostly obscured. The cabin felt suspended in time, as though life had been abruptly paused and left to decay. The silence pressed in—thick, quiet, and eerie.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from above. Riley’s voice called out. “How’s it lookin’ down there?”

Kiki shrugged and released a deep, cloudy breath. “Good enough. Can we warm this place up a bit now?”

Riley didn’t need to be asked twice. She hurried to the fireplace, where a worn box of matches sat waiting. With a few strikes, one flared to life, the sharp scent of sulfur lingering briefly. She fed shreds of cardboard into the base of the dry logs, and flames quickly spread, crackling to life. The warmth was immediate, but it only seemed to highlight how cold the cabin had been until then. 

Riley’s eyes drifted to the mantle. She stepped closer and picked up one of the photos Kiki had turned upright. “Oh jeez, look at my stupid haircut.” 

The photo—her younger self grinning between her parents—felt unnaturally heavy in her hands. 

Kiki covered her mouth and laughed quietly to herself. “Yeah that’s… pretty dumb-looking.”

“Alright, Miss Perfect-Hair,” Riley replied, dropping the photo back with an exaggerated clack, “let’s see your childhood pics.”

Kiki shook her head quickly, her face stiff. “So anyway,” she cut in, “what’s the plan now?”

Riley flopped onto the old sofa, sinking into its creaky cushions as she stretched out her legs toward the fire. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some real food after that trip. I say we relax for a bit, warm up, and then head into Starport. We’ll grab some lunch and whatever else we need for the weekend.”

“Okay, sounds good to me.” Kiki plopped down beside her friend, sighing as the fire’s heat finally reached her. She leaned forward and picked up an old newspaper that was folded on the coffee table, brushing dust off its yellowed pages.

Before she could unfold it, Riley’s hand shot out and snatched it away. “Don’t waste your time with that lame crap.”

“Hey!” Kiki snapped, twisting to snatch it back. “Rude.”

Riley laughed nervously, brushing her hair back with one hand as she stared into the fire. “You’re just gonna scare yourself.”

Kiki furrowed her brow but didn’t reply. Her gaze dropped to the newspaper, now settled in her lap. The headline—bold and smeared—jumped out at her. 

Tragedy Strikes Luna Lake!

5 college students ages 18 to 20 found dead and 2 more missing. The bodies recovered include 2 females and 3 males, all exhibiting unusual injuries. The 2 females had their hands, feet, eyes and tongue removed, while the males were found stripped naked and scattered in different directions, and seemingly died due to hypothermia. Each male was also covered in deep puncture wounds, but those injuries were determined not to be the cause of death. The 2 missing students are prime suspects and/or key witnesses. If anyone has any informa—

Riley’s hand shot out, lowering the paper to meet Kiki’s wide eyes. “This is old news, alright? No need to worry about it.”

Kiki’s expression tightened. “Riley… what the heck is this? Are you trying to prank me again?”

Riley exhaled sharply and snatched the paper, holding it up. “Look at the date. It happened, like, twenty years ago. Nothing like that’s happened since.” 

Without another word, she crumpled the newspaper into a ball and shoved it into the fire. Flames quickly ate away at the old paper, curling it into blackened ash. “Seriously, just forget it.”

Kiki didn’t look away from the fire, her face pale. “Why did you even have that paper here?”

Riley groaned, leaning back on her elbows. “Fine. My dad was… kind of obsessed with it. Solving it, I mean. The whole thing was a mystery—still is. The locals were all over it back then. No one could explain what happened, and those two missing kids were never found.”

Kiki pressed her hands over her face.

Riley sat up straighter, waving dismissively. “Okay, I know it sounds scary, but it’s not. Hikers go missing and die all the time. They probably got attacked by bears, or, y’know, something completely rational like that.”

“Riley, we’re hikers!” Kiki snapped. “I don’t want to go missing and die!”

Riley slouched, rubbing her temples. “Come on, Kiki. It’s our vacation. Let’s have fun, alright? No one’s been mauled by mutant bears in, like, decades.”

Kiki curled into the corner of the sofa, hugging her knees. “That newspaper… it’s seriously disturbing. I hate this kind of stuff.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled, filling the silence with the sound of wood splitting and popping. Riley stared into the flames, her playful mask flickering, just for a moment, before she turned her attention back to Kiki.

“Look,” Riley said softly. “Nothing’s going to happen. I promise.”

Riley stood up and crossed the room, her boots heavy against the wooden floor. She stopped in front of a tall, steel safe bolted to the wall. She spun the combination dial, the clicks echoing faintly in the quiet cabin. Finally, there was a low clunk as the locking mechanism released, and the door swung open. 

Riley grabbed the revolver and held it up, the firelight gleaming along the barrel. “See this? It’s a .357 Magnum.” She spun the chamber with a crisp flick, then snapped it back into place. “I’ll keep us safe out there. No bears or killers are gonna mess with us. Got it?”

Kiki stiffened, her eyes locked on the weapon. “Do you even know how to use that?”

Riley scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Duh. I’m a Class G security guard, remember? We all have our CCWs.”

“Oh. Right.” Kiki exhaled slowly, slumping back into the couch. “That makes sense.”

Satisfied, Riley returned the revolver and the rifle to the safe, then swung the door shut with a metallic clank. When she turned back, Kiki was frowning at her phone, her expression tense.

“No service out here,” Riley remarked, dropping onto the couch across from her.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Kiki’s eyes were distant as she set the phone down. “I can’t stop thinking about those girls… Hands and feet gone. Eyes and tongue, too? What kind of animal would even do that out here?”

Riley’s expression darkened. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees, her eyes catching the firelight. “My money’s on those freaky-ass tribal people who live near the mountain.”

Kiki blinked. “Tribal people?”

“Yeah. Old stories my dad used to tell me. Some indigenous group with sacrificial rituals or whatever.” She gestured vaguely toward the window. “If it wasn’t them, maybe it was a bear. Or their classmates went nuts and did some Satanic shit.”

Kiki frowned. “Bears might chew off limbs—maybe even rip off a hand or foot while eating—but eyes and tongues? Bears don’t have that kind of precision. Additionally the men were left with deep puncture wounds without a mention of bite marks. It doesn’t add up.”

Riley turned toward her, studying her face. “So what, then? You think the other students did it?”

Kiki placed a finger on her lip and looked up. “I don’t know. It’s almost like something a chimp would do.”

Riley raised her eyebrows. “A chimp?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Kiki murmured, hugging her arms to her chest. “But chimps can be vicious. They go for the face, the eyes, hands... Their canine teeth are like tiny daggers. I’ve studied this stuff. But…” She shook her head slowly. “This is Alaska. Not exactly chimp territory.”

Kiki paused, her voice taking on a sense of clarity. “I guess you could be right. Maybe it was the other students. People are capable of horrible things. You know what they say—man is the cruelest animal.”

“Okay, enough.” Riley threw her hands up. “Can we not talk about those damn forest murders? I’m getting flashbacks of my dad playing detective again, and I really don’t wanna relive that.”

She then stood and ruffled Kiki’s hair with a crooked grin. “How about we go into town and grab some food?”

Kiki lowered her eyes, still visibly shaken, but her curiosity had started to eclipse her fear. Her inner ethologist was already hard at work forming the most plausible theories she could muster. 

“Or do you wanna stay here alone while I go?” Riley teased.

Kiki blinked, then forced a smile. “No, I’m good. Let’s go. I’m starving anyway.”

With a knowing smirk, Riley stepped toward the fireplace and placed a heavy steel cage in front of it. Then, without another word, the two stepped out into the cold and climbed into the Snow Prowler.

Chapter 2

They followed the lakeshore until a path marked with tall wooden posts led them back into the woods.

Kiki sat quietly, holding her bare hands near the small heater vent, her gloves clamped between her teeth as she warmed her fingers.

As the forest closed in around them, her eyes drifted to the passenger-side window. The spruce trees pressed close, their needles impossibly dark—like they were built to soak in every last photon of sunlight. Then something unusual caught her attention.

There, nestled among the trees, stood a towering figure made of white, peeled branches—lashed together into the shape of a crude, oversized stick person. The bark had been stripped clean, leaving the wood pale and skeletal.

“Riley…” Kiki muttered from the side of her mouth. “What the hell is that?”

Riley eased her foot off the gas and leaned forward, squinting past Kiki’s head. “Oh, that? Just something those weird-ass indigenous people make. It marks sacred land or something. Means you’re not supposed to go in without permission.” She shrugged and settled back into her seat. “But who cares? We can do whatever we want.”

“Goddammit, Riley!” Kiki groaned, her voice cracking. “When I agreed to come here, I thought we were going to some quaint ski lodge—not the most cursed woods on the planet!”

Riley burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand and wheezing.

Kiki shot her a glare. “You’re insane. This isn’t funny!”

Still grinning, Riley reached over and gave her shoulder a playful shake. “Relax. This is exactly why I told you not to read that dumbass newspaper. You probably would’ve thought that creepy stick thing was cool if you hadn’t read it. Now you’re just spooked.”

“Wrong,” Kiki snapped, pulling away. “I’ve been creeped out since the moment we got here.”

“And for no reason.” Riley grinned, unbothered. “There probably isn’t a single person besides us in these woods. It’s one of the safest places on earth right now.” She squeezed Kiki’s shoulder a little too tightly, her voice dipping lower. “And there isn’t a living thing in this world I wouldn’t slaughter to protect you. So quit worrying already.”

Kiki froze mid-slouch, her body going still as the words hung in the air. Something about Riley’s tone had an unsettling effect on her. “Fine, I’m relaxed,” she mumbled with a noticeable lack of conviction.

The Snow Prowler hummed steadily, treads crunching over frost-packed snow. For over half an hour, they drove through the forest’s eerie silence, the dark spruce trees rising like a jagged wall on either side of the path. Finally, the snowdrifts flattened, and the forest gave way to open land.

Ahead, a small side road led them into the city of Starport. Humble compared to the skyscrapers of downtown Sulland, Starport’s industrial sprawl felt lively and bright. The harbor bustled with activity, framed by snowy cranes and enormous ships resting in the dock. 

Riley eased onto the main street, where snow-caked UTVs and trucks trundled by. The road was slushy, streaked with chaotic tread marks and melting, salted ice.

They neared the ocean, where Riley pulled into the lot of a warm-looking log building near the waterfront. A rustic sign hung between the enormous antlers of a wood-carved caribou.

Kiki hopped out of the vehicle and peered up at the words hand-burned into the wooden sign. “Tuktu Akutaq…” she read aloud, shivering.

“You’re gonna love this place. It’s an absolute must when you come here.” Riley merrily led the way and held open the front door. 

Kiki shielded her face from the wind and darted inside after her.

The warmth welcomed them in, carrying with it the scent of fresh bread and something savory cooking in the back. A cheerful waitress met them just beyond the entrance, dressed in a thick bear pelt that hung over her shoulders and a necklace strung with polished bear claws. 

Her smile was wide and genuine. “Good afternoon! Just the two of ya?”

Kiki’s eyes flicked to the necklace. She tilted her head slightly, studying the pelt to determine its authenticity. 

“That’s right!” Riley wrapped her arm around Kiki as they followed the waitress to their seats. 

“My name’s Ahnah. If ya need anything, just holler,” the waitress said warmly, her bear claw necklace clinking softly as she turned.

The girls slid into their booth by the window. Outside, ships rocked gently on the icy waves, their hulls gleaming in the low light. The horizon glowed with a faint, ethereal blue where stars shimmered faintly in the twilight.

“What an amazing view,” Kiki thought out loud. 

“Sure is.”Riley agreed, nudging a menu toward her. “Now check this out.”

Kiki pried her eyes from the window to scan the menu. It was dense with unfamiliar terms, but she spotted a few safe bets, such as burgers, fries, and chicken tenders nestled among the more adventurous fare.

“Don’t worry, I’ll order the good stuff for you.” Riley tapped the top of Kiki’s menu. “You’ve gotta try the caribou sausage which comes with their signature akutaq for dessert, and some crab chowder. We can also get a couple Taiga White Ales to drink. They actually brew those with real glacier water. Cool right?”

Kiki let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Okay good, I really didn’t want to resort to ordering chicken tenders. But what’s akutaq?”

Before Riley could answer, Ahnah reappeared at the table with a cheerful bounce. “Did I hear y’all’re ready to order?” 

“Yep!” Riley handed over the menus. “We’ll take two Tuktu Specials—extra charred—two bowls of crab chowder, and a couple Taiga Whites.” She handed the menus over with confidence.

Ahnah beamed, clearly pleased. “Well, sounds like you’ve been here before, ya know?”

Riley leaned back in the booth, arms sprawled across the backrest like she owned the place. “Oh yeah, like a million times now. This is basically my home away from home, ya know?”

Kiki rolled her eyes but smiled. She pulled her camera from her bag, then pressed it to the window, adjusting exposure and aperture carefully. She wasn’t a professional photographer, but years of studying animals in the wild had given her a steady hand and a sharp eye.

SNAP

The camera’s shutter clicked, sharp and satisfying. Immediately afterward her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her. She pulled it out to see a single bar of cell service and a flood of text notifications flashing on the screen. 

“Whoa, you actually got service?” Riley leaned across the table, squinting at Kiki’s phone. “Lucky. Mine’s probably frozen solid outside.”

“I got a bunch of messages from Scarlett.” Kiki looked them over. “Awww, she keeps asking how we’re doing, and she misses us. She also sent this selfie, look.”

She turned her phone screen around. Scarlett was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her cheek smushed against her grumpy, colorpoint cat.

Riley scrunched her nose with a crooked smirk. “That creepy cat really is perfect for Scarlett.”

Kiki grinned while typing a reply. “Snuggle Muffin isn’t creepy,” she muttered aloud. "He's a real cat-tch.”

Riley groaned dramatically, deflating back into her seat. “That’s the worst pun I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Before Kiki could retaliate, the mouthwatering scent of grilled meat wafted toward them, breaking the banter. Ahnah appeared with bubbly grace, sliding plates onto the table. Two charred caribou sausages nestled into toasted buns topped with crisp lettuce and caramelized onions greeted them. She followed with steaming bowls of rich, fragrant crab chowder and their cold glasses of Taiga White Ale.

Kiki lifted her bun near her face, studying the sausages with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “I can’t believe this is made with real caribou. Look, it’s Rudolph.”

Ahnah laughed, leaning her elbows on the edge of the table. “Well, it’s not just Rudolph. It’s a mix—equal parts pork, beef, and caribou. Gives it that rich, smoky flavor Starport folks swear by, ya know?”

Kiki nodded, clearly impressed, and took a huge bite. She chewed thoughtfully, her eyes drifting toward the window. “Mmmm! S’good.”

Riley watched her with a small, unguarded smile. Seeing Kiki enjoy something so deeply tied to her childhood stirred a warmth in her chest—like she was finally sharing a secret piece of herself.

Ahnah gave a playful curtsy before turning away. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with y’all’s akutaq. Enjoy!”

Both girls nodded, mouths too full for speech. Eventually, Kiki reached for her drink and took a tentative sip. Her expression contorted instantly.

“Oh god, it’s even worse than normal beer.” She stuck her tongue out before taking a generous gulp of water. 

Riley slowly shook her head, then chugged half of her own glass. “Guess you ain’t tough enough for the glacier water beer,” she said as she set her half-empty mug down with an emphatic thud. “I’ll ask if we can get you some warm milk in a sippy cup.”

Kiki glared across the table with half-lidded eyes. “That would be great, thanks.”

Riley tried to keep a straight face but quickly lost it, then bit her own thumb to stop herself from gagging. “Yeah this is rough. I don’t remember these ales being so bitter. Then again my dad only ever let me have one sip each time we came here.”

“I’d rather just have the glacier water with no ale involved.” Kiki took another sip, and her whole body shuddered. “At least the food is delicious.”

Riley nodded and took another bite. “Yeah this is tasty for sure. But I’m still surprised you enjoy eating meat so much considering your love for animals and all that.”

Kiki tilted her head, momentarily thoughtful. “We’re animals too. Omnivory is part of our evolutionary history. If we didn’t eat meat, I’d call that abnormal behavior.”

She then stirred her soup and smirked. ““Besides, I’m more into arthropods, like these beetles we’re after for example. Honestly, this chowder is giving me more heartache than the sausage.”

“Why’s that?” Riley asked. “You got bugs in your soup?”

Kiki swirled her spoon around in the thick chowder, then lifted out a chunk of crab meat. “Found a bug.” 

“Nope!” Riley quickly dismissed her friend, wagging her finger. “I don’t want to hear some biology shit about how my favorite seafood creatures are actually a bunch of ocean roaches or whatever.”

Kiki shrugged and popped the crab into her mouth. “You asked,” she mumbled while chewing.

Riley sighed, drumming her fingers on the table. Curiosity clawed its way through her defenses. “Alright, fine. I’ll bite. Why are they bugs?”

Kiki snickered as she swallowed her food, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, they aren’t really bugs. I feel you’re better off just not knowing anyway. It’s like one of my favorite Nietzche quotes, which is surprisingly useful in my field of study: Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed.” 

“Okay, I don’t even know what that means,” Riley scoffed. “But clearly you can’t wait to tell me, so just spit it out already. I finished my crab anyway so it’s fine.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll impart upon you a small fraction of my knowledge.” Kiki grinned as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “They’re not bugs, technically. But I’ll keep it simple. Both insects and crustaceans are arthropods—joint-legged invertebrates. That makes them evolutionary cousins. It’s really that simple.”

Riley blinked. “You lost me at arthropod. I’ll just assume you’re saying they really are bugs.” 

“Not quite.” Kiki smiled slyly. “That’s just a fun thing people like to say when they start learning a little about phylogeny. Crabs are about as related to the order hemiptera—aka true bugs—as humans are to tuna. Same kingdom, same phylum, different classes, different orders. Just because both crustaceans and insects fall under arthropoda, doesn’t mean they’re all gross to eat. It’s like loving caribou sausage but gagging at the thought of rat sausage. Same family tree—very different outcomes.”

“Great, you made it weird. Again.” Riley groaned and slumped back in her chair, pretending to gag. “So crabs aren’t bugs, but they’re related to bugs. That’s not much better.”

“See? Sometimes knowing ruins the illusion,” Kiki teased. “Though you’d be surprised—some insects are famously tasty. Ever tried a cricket?”

Riley nodded, her inner survivalist thinking for her. “I saw on TV a guy eating all kinds of bugs in the wild. He said they’re a nice source of protein in a pinch.” 

“They are!” Kiki said brightly. “High protein, low fat, easy to farm, great sustainability profile. As a matter of fact, I have a peculiar interest in crickets for a variety of reasons. There’s actually a funny story about that—”

Kiki brightened, eager to continue, but her pocket buzzed again, cutting her off. “Looks like Scarlett’s replying.” 

Riley frowned, suddenly reminded of her own phone sitting out on the dashboard of the UTV. “Hey, I need to hit the restroom and grab my phone. Maybe I have some texts too.  Don’t try your akutaq without me!”

Kiki gave an exaggerated nod of obedience. As Riley disappeared toward the back, Kiki lazily scrolled through her notifications with one hand, scooping up the last of her chowder with the other.

Right on cue, Ahnah returned with a cheerful bounce, carrying two frosted bowls.

“Here’s your akutaq—and the check,” she said, placing the dishes down with pride.

“What is this, exactly?” Kiki leaned in to inspect it. The dessert looked like ice cream, but was a vivid, unnatural magenta. She poked it curiously with her spoon.

Ahnah perked up. “We call it Alaskan Ice Cream! Made fresh here with wild berries from the forest, mixed with seal fat and a pinch of brine. Sweet and salty, chilled to perfection.” 

Kiki blinked with a skeptically raised eyebrow. “Seal fat?”

She clasped her hands. “Mmhmm! An old tradition. You’ll love it. Go on, try a bite!”

Kiki looked tempted, but held herself back. “My friend wants to see my reaction, so I should wait for her.”

Ahnah tilted her head and sighed dramatically. “Oh, how sweet. You two seem like good friends.” She leaned in, elbows perched on the table. “So, have any questions or need any ideas on what to do while you’re visiting our neat little city?”

Kiki’s eyes darted toward the restroom door before she lowered her voice. “Actually, I do have a question. Something a little weird.”

Ahnah pursed her lips, intrigued.

“I read an old newspaper earlier. It mentioned this… strange incident—college kids found dead in the forest. Do you know anything about that? Did they ever figure out what happened?”

Ahnah didn’t break her cheery persona for even a second. “Well jeez that was so long ago, I was just a little girl when that happened. From what I can recall, nothing ever came of the investigations. But I do remember tons of police and even the FBI were here snoopin’ all around.”

Dejected, Kiki looked down at her food. “Oh, I see. Thanks.”

Ahnah’s smile faded a touch, then leaned in even closer, her urge to be a good host guiding her actions. “You wanna know what us locals think of it?”

Kiki’s eyes lit up. She nodded enthusiastically.

Ahnah dropped her voice to a hush, crouching slightly, her apron grazing the floor as she crossed her arms on the table’s edge. “Now, like I said, this is just a story. But around here, we call it Atshen.”

Kiki’s brows drew together. “What’s that?”

Ahnah’s gaze darkened slightly, though her tone remained friendly. “An old legend. The tribes around here say Atshen is the demon of the long-dark. Not your typical monster—it's not just claws and teeth. They say it’s born from the worst parts of us: starvation, hatred, jealousy, desperation. The kinds of feelings that rot your insides.”

Kiki’s expression tightened—fascinated.

“The story goes,” Ahnah continued, “that when someone gets lost in the forest, starving and on the edge of madness, the moment they cross the line into cannibalism… that’s when Atshen wakes up.”

Kiki’s fingers twitched.

“They say the students were torn up so bad—no eyes, no tongue, just a mess of teeth marks. And Atshen?” Ahnah paused, eyes gleaming. “You can see for yourself how they draw him. No eyes. No tongue. Just a gaping maw full of long, bloody, jagged teeth. Kinda freaky coincidence, huh?”

Standing up, she dusted off her apron. “Anyway, it’s just a story. A spooky tale to keep kids close to home during winter. But if you’re curious about anything else, I’m always happy to help!”

Kiki gave a polite nod as Ahnah walked away, then immediately pulled out her phone and began typing. The service was abysmal—pages stalled, images wouldn’t load—but eventually she found an article comparing northern cryptids. Her eyes scanned quickly:

Atshen. Parallels to Wendigo mythology. Associated with hunger, madness, cannibalism, and cold.

“Oh it’s here!” Riley exclaimed as she plopped back down in her seat.

Kiki jumped and bumped the bottom of the table with her knees. “Jeez, you scared me!”

“You’re too jumpy,” Riley teased, already digging in. “Go on, try it. It’s amazing.”

Kiki took a slow, measured bite. As described, it was tart and salty, with the fatty smoothness of something entirely unfamiliar. Strange at first, but... oddly satisfying.

“I told you.” Riley pointed at her with her spoon, noting the look of approval on Kiki’s face. “Isn’t this place great?”

Kiki nodded, swallowing her bite. “Yeah, it’s… different, but tasty. Anyway, did you find your phone?”

“Yep, I was replying to Scarlett while pissing and lost track of time.” Riley swiped across her screen. “Scarlett seriously should have just joined us, it’s so obvious she regrets not coming. Her store would be fine if she took a weekend off.”

Kiki sighed, scraping the last bit of cream from her bowl. “Yeah. She could use a break.” She paused, glancing at Riley’s half-full dish. “Are you gonna finish that?”

Riley slid the bowl across the table. “Knock yourself out.”

As Kiki dug in, Riley leaned back. “So when I came back you were hunched over your phone like you were watching ghost videos. Don’t tell me you were looking up those forest deaths.”

“I wasn’t,” Kiki said innocently. “I was reading about something called Atshen. Ever heard of it?”

Riley crossed her arms and dropped her smile. “Did our waitress tell you about that shit? Look, you don’t need to be filling your head with that crap.”

“She didn’t push it on me,” Kiki said calmly. “I kept asking questions. She was just being helpful.”

Riley scoffed. “It’s just one of those dumb stories locals use to freak out tourists. I swear I’m gonna kick her ass if she’s over here scaring you while I’m gone.”

Kiki put down her spoon and stood up. “Riley, don’t be mean. She was nice. And she wasn’t trying to scare me—I brought it up.”

“Fine but now I’m not tipping.” Riley stood as well and fished around for her wallet. “I swear those worthless Eskimo pigs can’t ever mind their own damn business.”

“Riley, stop being an idiot for a minute and listen. She didn’t do anything wrong, alright? Why are you freaking out about this anyway?” Kiki dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the table, her eyes locked on Riley’s with half a frown. “Let’s just relax and go get those supplies now, sound good?”

“Okay sure, whatever.” Riley marched off toward the door, ignoring Ahnah’s cheerful goodbye and nearly bumping into her.

Kiki lingered a moment, catching Ahnah’s eye. She offered a soft smile and a small bow. “Thanks for everything.”

Ahnah placed a hand over her necklace and nodded solemnly. “Be safe out there.”

Kiki lowered her eyes and followed Riley to the exit. 

The cold air hit them as they stepped outside, and the tension followed like a shadow. Kiki slid into the passenger seat, pulling her hood tight around her head, while Riley dropped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

For a while, the only sound was the hum of the vehicle and the faint crunch of treads over frost. Kiki leaned against the window, her phone casting a pale glow on her face as she scrolled through search results about Atshen.

“I know what you’re doing,” Riley said abruptly, her eyes fixed on the road.

Kiki didn’t look up. “What?”

“You’re reading about that Atshen crap, aren’t you?” Riley gritted her teeth, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “If you wanna scare the shit out of yourself, that’s on you. You’re starting to sound just as obsessed as my dad was.”

Kiki sat up straighter, tone even but firm. “That’s not fair. I’m just trying to understand. It’s weird, unusual—and yeah, that makes it interesting. You can’t expect me to just ignore it.” She glanced back at her phone. “I’m not even scared.”

“Yeah, sure you’re not,” Riley muttered. “My dad wasn’t scared either when he started rattling off his ideas about demons and monsters. Should I call him up in prison so he can tell you all about his schizo ass theories? Bet you’d love that.”

Kiki swallowed a lump in her throat. Riley’s harsh tone was taking its toll. 

“Just because something hasn’t been studied doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” Kiki said quietly. “People used to laugh at the idea of colossal squids too, remember? Until science caught up.”

Riley groaned, letting her head fall into her hands. The vehicle rolled to a stop in front of the store, and she shoved through the door. “God damn, you sound just like him! Enjoy your demon stories. I’m gonna get some supplies for our vacation!” she shouted, slamming the door behind her.

Kiki flinched at the sound. She stared at her phone, the curiosity that had burned so brightly now dulled by guilt. With a quiet sigh, she closed the browser and slipped the device into her pocket. It only took a few seconds for her to decide she didn’t want to sit alone in the quiet vehicle. She hopped outside and made her way into the grocery store, where she spotted her grumpy friend pushing a cart. 

Kiki jogged up to Riley’s side, still quiet as she considered her options. She then pushed up her glasses and took two big steps ahead to cut off Riley’s path. She then reached forward with her arms spread wide, colliding with her friend in a big hug. The short girl’s head barely reached Riley’s chin. 

Riley’s arms hung limply to the side while she looked up and away. 

“I love you, Riley. Don’t be mad at me.” Kiki closed her eyes and mushed her cheek against Riley’s chest. “I won’t look into or talk about the forest deaths anymore. Sowwy.”

For a moment, Riley didn’t move. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry all the weight she’d been holding, she lifted her arms and hugged Kiki back. “I’m not mad at you,” she said quietly. “I just didn’t expect this crap to immediately become the center of focus here, again. I just… I really, really want to be done with that topic for the rest of my life.”

“Okay, done.” Kiki chirped with a warm smile. “We should get some marshmallows to roast over the fire. What do you think?”

The tension melted away like a thin sheet of ice in the sun. A weight was lifted from Riley’s shoulders, and her wide charming smile returned. “Good idea. We should get some more caribou sausage, too. I’ll cook it the Riley way for breakfast.”

“Oh fun, the Riley way?” Kiki sneered. “Presumably that means burned?”

Riley tossed a family-sized pack of meat into the cart. “Only if by burned you mean charred to perfection.”

The pair shared a laugh, back on track for a good trip together. They gathered what they needed—wood bundles and snacks for the cabin, as well as protein bars, and drinking water for their hike—and checked out together.

With everything stowed away in the back of the vehicle, they began their long drive back to the cabin. Outside, the weather was changing. Clouds hung low and heavy, smothering the last hints of twilight. A steady fall of glittering snowflakes twisted and spun through the beams of the headlights while they slipped into the depths of the forest.

Riley took a deep breath. “Sorry for getting so heated back there. I can usually control my temper much better than that.” 

Kiki shook her head without looking away from the forest outside. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t mention it.”

Riley smiled. “‘Kay.”

Kiki kept her gaze fixed on the passing trees, their spindly arms blurring past the window. She half-expected to spot something strange—like the effigy they’d passed on the way into town—but the forest revealed nothing. Just an unsettling darkness that seemed to deepen the longer she looked at it. 

They drove on, headlights cutting through the snow, until the quiet curve of the trail led them back to the cabin.

“Home sweet home,” Riley announced, then backed in next to the front door. 

The gentle snowfall had subsided, and a soft breeze blew through Kiki’s hair when she stepped outside to help carry in the supplies. Shivering, she yanked up her hood and cinched the drawstrings until only her eyes peeked out.

Inside, the cabin greeted them with a welcoming wave of warmth. The fireplace still smoldered, black logs pulsing with dull red light. Riley knelt in front of it, pushing the ashen remains to the back before tossing in a pair of fresh logs. Within moments, flames crackled to life.

Kiki set the last of the bags on the kitchen counter and rubbed her gloved hands together. The soft glow of the fire flickered against the walls as Riley collapsed onto the sofa with an exaggerated sigh.

“So…” Riley stretched her arms over the back of the couch, wearing a sheepish smirk. “I’ve got some bad news and some, well, worse news.”

Kiki shot her a wary look as she unzipped her coat.

“First off, we can’t shower yet. The electric hot water heater sucks. The pipes are still frozen, and it has to warm up slowly to avoid damage, so it’ll probably take until tomorrow to thaw.”

Kiki sniffed her armpit and shrugged. “I’ve been in worse conditions without a shower before. My class spent four days in the Amazon Rainforest, no showers. At least here we aren’t covered in sweat, mud, and bug spray.”

“I like the positive attitude.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “But here’s the second thing. The water situation also means… no flushing. So no shitting in the toilet until the pipes thaw. It’s either hold it or brave the freezing cold outhouse.”

Riley reached over to rub her friend’s belly. “You gonna make it until morning? Or is your food baby ready to be born?”

Kiki slapped her hand away. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” 

“Sorry about this. Normally we’d prep the cabin to be empty all winter, which includes shutting off the water supply valves and bleeding the waterlines, but we kind of left in a hurry the last time we were here,” Riley explained as she leaned back and relaxed, wrapping an arm around her friend’s neck. “But anyway, it sure is nice to be here again.”

Kiki closed her eyes, letting the soothing warmth of the crackling fire melt away the chill that lingered in her bones. “Yeah, it’s pretty relaxing,” she added. She cracked one eye open to glance at the clock on the wall. “It’s only five, though. What are we gonna do all evening to kill time?”

Riley looked around the cabin. “Well, we’ve got some board games lying around, but that’s kinda lame. We could cook those marshmallows.” A grin spread across her face. “Or better yet, we could go outside and make a big bonfire.

Kiki nuzzled Riley’s ribs and curled up on the couch. “It’s too cold to go outside.” 

“I don’t think you understand. When we get a bonfire going out back, you’ll wanna take off your coat. It gets hot.” Riley stood up and let Kiki lay down. “If you don’t wanna be cold, I’ll go get it started while you relax here.”

Kiki leaned up on her arms and nodded, her silky blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. “You sure you don’t need help?”

“Nah, I got this.” Riley shot her a wink, then disappeared out the back door.

Curiosity tugged at Kiki as the minutes passed. Faint thumps and scraping sounds came from outside. Eventually, she rose from the couch and peered out the frosted window.

Riley stood silhouetted against the dim twilight, an axe in hand as she chipped away at a frozen pile of wooden debris. Each strike echoed faintly, the sound carrying across the vast frozen lake behind her. Riley dragged large chunks of wood to a ring of stones already blackened from previous fires, tossing in smaller branches to fill the gaps. After a few trips, she hoisted up a hefty dead tree branch onto her shoulder, its brown needles brittle and covered with frost, then tossed it on the heap. 

The flickering light from inside the cabin caught Riley’s attention, her eyes then locked onto Kiki’s. She waved her hand, gesturing toward herself. “Come on! Time to light this bad boy up.”

Kiki bundled up again and stepped outside. The cold nipped at her cheeks, but the sky had gone perfectly still—no wind, no snow, only the soft crunch of her boots as she made her way across the yard.

Riley crouched by the woodpile and poured a careful splash of gasoline over the branches before striking a match. She flicked it into the pile, and the tiny flames sprang to life as they eagerly devoured the fuel. It licked its way up the wood, and within moments, the entire mound roared into an orange inferno, bathing the clearing in flickering light.

Kiki stumbled back a step, shielding her face from the sudden burst of heat.

“See? Nice and toasty.” Riley carried a couple of lawn chairs over to the fire and set them up. 

Kiki pushed the chairs as close together as they could be, then took a seat. “Is this safe?”

Riley joined her with a bag of marshmallows and a couple of sharp sticks. “Of course it is. It’s actually a tradition to have a bonfire at least once every time we visit here. That’s what the stone circle is for.”

Each girl stabbed a marshmallow onto the end of their stick and held it toward the towering flames. Kiki’s turned golden brown quickly; she took a gooey bite, humming in approval.

Riley’s, meanwhile, caught fire. She watched the flames with calm satisfaction until they burned out, then bit into the blackened shell, revealing the molten center.

“Is that ‘Riley style’ cooking?” Kiki asked while making air quotes. 

“This is the best way to eat them.” Riley pointed her stick toward Kiki’s face, where her half-eaten marshmallow dangled. “Try it.”

Kiki hesitantly took a bite, her face twisting as she chewed. The bitter charred exterior combined with the sweetness of the inside wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “I prefer them my way, but this isn’t as terrible as I imagined. It reminds me of a cheap crème brûlée.”

Riley simply closed her eyes and shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t eat that fancy mumbo jumbo,” she said as she stuck a fresh treat on her stick to burn. 

The two settled into a comfortable silence. Kiki closed her eyes, letting the ambient sounds wash over her. Beyond the bonfire’s sharp pops and cracks, the forest seemed alive, a symphony of arctic fauna. 

“Riley, can you hear them?” she asked softly. “I haven’t seen a single animal since we got here, but now I can tell there’s plenty of wildlife out there.”

Riley hadn’t noticed anything at first, but after a moment of listening, she heard it too.

Birdsong, light and sporadic, carried on the frigid breeze—sounds of arctic finches and shorebirds straying inland. The mournful hoot of a great horned owl echoed softly, followed by the distant, haunting howls of wolves threading through the darkness. An elk’s bugle pierced the quiet, its strange, eerie tone rising from somewhere deep in the woods. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Kiki asked, her voice soft as she chomped into another marshmallow.

“I kind of wanna go grab the gun now.” Riley fidgeted around. “Wolves are actually something to be afraid of.”

“Ah, so even the brave Riley Driscoll gets scared sometimes.” Kiki teased her with a grin and interlocked their arms to keep her seated.

“Hey, this isn’t an irrational fear,” Riley shot back, though her shoulders relaxed against Kiki’s grip. “Wolves are no joke, alright?” 

Kiki watched the flames send embers dancing toward the sky. She glanced over at her friend, who wore an unusually serious expression. “You know, this reminds me of that time you thought you saw a ghost in Scarlett’s bookshop.”

Riley groaned. “Oh jeez, are you seriously bringing that up again? If you saw what I saw you would’ve shat your pants.”

Kiki let out a high-pitched giggle and gave Riley’s arm a playful squeeze.

Riley frowned and pulled her arm free. “By the way, I’m still pissed you told Scarlett. That was supposed to be a secret.”

Kiki tilted her head, pouting up at her through her glasses with exaggerated innocence. “She’s not dumb. She noticed you acting weird and made me tell her. I can’t lie to people I care about when they push.”

Riley slouched in the creaky lawn chair. “Fine. I’m not really mad. It’s just…” she paused, her voice quieting, “Scarlett didn’t need to know about it. It messed her up. Did you know she brought it up in therapy?”

Kiki’s gloved hand rose to her lips as she thought it over. “I think she might’ve mentioned something about it once; I don’t really remember. But she hasn’t brought up the conversation to me since we went to adopt that cat. So I’m sure she’s fine.” 

“Well,” Riley started, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees, “she called me for lunch after one of her therapy sessions, out of the blue. She seemed happy, you know? Lighter somehow. But then she started pressing me for details.” 

Riley ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. I mean, how do you say you think you saw her dead sister’s ghost?”

Riley offered a melancholic smile, meeting Kiki’s eyes. “So I kind of just downplayed the whole thing. Told her I saw a person out of the corner of my eye and it creeped me out. Like my imagination just got the better of me.”

Kiki sat upright and gently rested her hand on Riley’s back. “Oh wow… I didn’t know any of that. Poor Scarlett. I hope she’s doing okay.”

Riley nodded. “Yeah me too. I wonder what she’s up to right now.” 

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, Scarlett sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor of her dim bedroom. Dozens of candles flickered around her, their soft light casting long shadows that twisted across the walls. In front of her sat a Ouija board. The planchette rested dead center.

She closed her hazel eyes and pictured her sister’s ghost, then called out to her. “Azurie, if you’re with me now, please talk to me by moving this planchette and spelling something.” 

Scarlett’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto the Ouija board with intensity. She held her breath, waiting. The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the faint bumps and creaks that plagued her home.

Only stillness followed. 

A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, her pulse quickening as the faintest of whispers graced her ears. She nudged the planchette with the tip of her finger, ensuring it could easily slide when the time came. Her eyes darted to the corners of the room, where her peripheral vision convinced her that shadowy shapes were peering at her. As always, they evaded her gaze. 

The planchette wobbled. 

Scarlett’s heart skipped a beat. “Azurie, was that you?” she asked, her eyes measuring the distance between the planchette and the word, YES, printed on the board. 

Then, a sudden burst of movement caught her attention as it slithered through the darkness. Scarlett froze like a statue, refusing to even breathe. 

Suddenly, her cat leapt onto the board with a loud yowl, swatting the planchette off the board and onto the floor. Scarlett jolted backwards and smacked her head against the side of her desk. A cup of pens and pencils tumbled down to the floor while her heart pounded in her chest. 

The cat, now sitting smugly on the board, flicked its tail and gave her a slow blink. He then batted the little wooden planchette across the hardwood floor, pouncing as it slid and bounced around. 

“You little shit! Get back here, Snuggle Muffin!” Scarlett shouted, scrambling to her feet and chasing him.

Back in the subarctic north, Kiki squinted toward the fire. “She’s probably doing something creepy.”

Riley was wagging her charred stick around, drawing imaginary shapes with the glowing orange tip. “You’re probably right; she’s always doing freaky shit. Which reminds me, I’m surprised you two actually ended up becoming so close considering how anti-spooky you are.”

“I’m really not that anti-spooky,” Kiki argued, crossing her arms in mock indignation. “I actually like scary stuff… in a way. I’m just easily spooked. And anyway, Scarlett’s not scary. She’s just… surrounded by scary circumstances. She and I might seem like opposites, but I get along with her better than my own family.”

She flicked her charred stick like a wand, watching embers trail in the cold air. “You and I seem like opposites too, in some ways, and we get along just fine. Most of the time.”

Riley tossed her stick into the fire. The embers flared briefly, then settled. “Fair enough. But compared to you two, Scarlett and I have way more in common. United by tragedy, misery loves company—whatever you wanna call it. She even knew my dad when she was a kid. He did some construction work on their house back in the day.”

Kiki tilted her head thoughtfully. “That may be true, but Scarlett taught me how to use a camera more professionally in college. I think that’s when we really started bonding. Every time I snap a new photo, I think of her.” She mimed taking a picture of the fire with her empty hands. “So even though it might not be to the same extent, she and I relate to one another in some ways, too. 

Kiki spotted Riley rolling her eyes with a crooked smirk. She then cleared her throat and moved the topic forward. “Speaking of photography… She’s extremely artistic. It’s a shame she never finished school.”

Riley rolled her eyes again, this time more playfully. “For real. What an idiot. I’m still mad at her about that. But hey, that’s a solid way to become friends. Beats how she bonded with me, heh.”

Kiki’s smile faded as she stared at the snow near her boots, watching sparks spiral and dim as they touched the icy ground. “You mean because of what happened with your dad?” she asked gently.

Riley limply shrugged, her eyes locked onto the flames. “Yeah. I mean, her situation’s a hundred times worse than mine, but still. Even though I was a little jealous at first, I’m glad you and Scarlett bonded. She could use someone like you in her life these days.”

Kiki hesitated, a pang of discomfort settling in her chest. “She could use you too,” she said softly.

Riley let out a short, bitter laugh. “Nah. I got nothing for her.” Her hand instinctively reached for the chest pocket of her jacket, patting for a pack of cigarettes that wasn’t there. Her knee bounced as tension crept into her voice. “I just want her to be happy, you know? To have a good life. My life’s already fucked, but it’s not too late for her.”

Kiki’s eyes remained lowered while she dug the toe of her boot into the snow. “Don’t be so dramatic. You still have your whole life ahead of you. Scarlett does too.”

Riley scoffed, shaking her head. “No offense, Kiki, but you wouldn’t understand. You’re about to get a master’s degree with a dope career already lined up for you, and your parents are these amazing rich lawyers with billboards all over the city. Meanwhile, I barely scraped through high school. I’m thrilled that my zoo security job gives me two whole weeks of paid vacation.”

Kiki’s icy blue eyes shimmered in front of the fire. She remained quiet and cautious.

Riley kicked a chunk of snow into the fire, and the heat evaporated it in seconds. “And this is as good as life is gonna get for me. At least Scarlett got the bookstore out of her shitty parents before they ditched her. My mom won’t even sign over this shit hole cabin in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere that no one in the world wants but me. And my retard of a dad’s rotting in prison for the rest of his goddamn life.”

Kiki swallowed hard. She knew how fast Riley’s anger could boil over, so she steered gently. “Shithole cabin in the middle of nowhere is definitely not how you pitched this vacation to me,” she said with a giggle.

Riley found her smile. “Yeah, damn. Sorry I dragged you out here with me.” 

“Wait, your dad didn’t get a life sentence, did he?” Kiki blinked. “I forget the details.”

Riley let out a short chuckle. “Oh, nah. He got sixty years for two counts of attempted murder. May as well be life, though. He’ll be, like, eighty when he’s eligible for parole.”

“Oops, my apologies. It’s probably not something you feel like talking about.” Kiki hugged her friend’s arm and leaned against her shoulder. “But if it’ll help to vent, you can always talk to me. About anything, really. I’m ever the great listener.”

Riley knowingly grinned and tugged Kiki’s hood down over her eyes. “I know you want me to tell you the whole story.” She sighed, her tone losing its playful edge. “Fine. My dad caught my mom cheating on him with some guy from her job when we got back from a trip out here. He lost it and beat them both half to death. Then he turned down a plea deal for aggravated assault like an idiot, and they slapped him with attempted murder charges instead.”

“You’ve told me the basics already,” Kiki said, sitting up to fix her hood and glasses. “What I really want to know is how it all happened from your point of view.”

“Oh, you want a deep campfire story. I get it.” Riley tried to sound flippant, but her knee bounced nervously, her gloved hands fidgeting. “It was the last time I came here before now, back when I was fourteen. This place was already a ghost town, and my dad bought the cabin cheap. We spent most of the trip fixing stuff up, but I just wanted to go snowboarding. I sprained my ankle pretty bad one day, so we left early. That’s when it all went to hell.”

Riley stared into the fire, her long black hair shimmering in the vivid glow. She continued, her voice low and raspy. “We pulled up to the house, and there was this car in the driveway I didn’t recognize. My dad’s face went dark. He told me to stay in the car, and I could tell something was really wrong. His voice was serious—scarier than I’d ever heard it. Normally, I’d argue with him, but not that night. I kept my mouth shut and waited. It felt like hours.”

Kiki leaned closer, her voice gentle. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It was.” Riley’s voice softened and she squeezed the bottom of her jacket. “When he came back out, he had this backpack in one hand, and his shirt and hands were covered in blood. I completely froze. I didn’t even notice the blood at first, but when he handed me the bag, I saw what was inside—a stack of cash and some small gold bars. He told me to hide them from my mom no matter what. Then he yelled something like, ‘The money and the cabin are yours now. Don’t let her take them from you.’”

Riley stared up into the dark, cloudy sky. “I kept asking, Where’s Mom? What happened? But he didn’t answer. He just kept driving like everything was normal. I grabbed his arm and screamed at him, but he didn’t even flinch. That’s when I noticed it—he looked scared too. That’s what shut me up. I just waited in silence after that.”

Kiki squeezed her hand, her eyebrows tight as she examined her friend’s face. 

A quiet sniffle defied Riley’s stoicism. “He drove me to my aunt’s house and told me to get out. Said to finish school, get a good job, and take care of myself. Then he just… left.”

Kiki quietly took in every word her friend revealed. It wasn’t something Riley had been willing to talk about in the past. 

Riley let the silence linger for a moment before continuing. “I stashed the backpack in a bush behind my aunt’s house and ran straight back home. I didn’t understand what had happened, and I was scared for both of them. By the time I got there, the whole block was lit up with flashing red and blue lights. Cop cars were everywhere. It didn’t feel real; it was like a bad dream. I just stood there, gasping for breath. I thought I was gonna puke.”

“What did you do next?” Kiki asked, full of concern and curiosity. 

“I didn’t have time to decide. A cop came up to me, asked if I was Riley Driscoll, then put me in the back of his car. He took me to the station and asked me a million questions, but I didn’t say shit. Not a word.” Riley rubbed her eyes and sniffed, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know what to say, anyway. I didn’t even understand what the hell had happened.”

Kiki could see Riley’s lip quivering, her tough exterior cracking. The sight made tears well up in Kiki’s own eyes. “Oh gosh, Riley, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry.” Without thinking, she threw her arms around her friend, squeezing tightly and rocking her side to side. Her own tears flowed freely.

“Dammit, Kiki, stop.” Riley scoffed, blinking rapidly to force back the tears that threatened to slip from her eyes. She gently pounded Kiki’s back in mock protest. “I’m not crying. And seriously, this isn’t even the worst part.”

Kiki pulled back slightly, her face streaked with tears. “What do you mean?”

Riley’s voice hardened. “The part that pisses me off most? It’s so obvious now that he cared more about this stupid cabin than anything else. The whole reason my parents were fighting in the first place was because he bought it without talking to my mom.” She leaned back in her chair, her expression bitter. “He threw away everything for a place no one else even wanted.”

Kiki leaned up, her eyes still dripping and her nose plugged up. “You like the cabin too, though, right?”

“Holy shit, Kiki, get it together.” Riley used her coat sleeve to wipe Kiki’s face. “Yeah, I like the cabin. It’s peaceful, remote. I have a lot of great memories here, too. But I’m not a deranged lunatic obsessed with it. The reason we even found the hot spring cave is because of my dad’s insane quest to find those missing bodies. What kind of dad drags his kid around a dangerous mountain searching for corpses? No one ever hikes around the base of the mountain so there’s, like, no chance they’d have been there anyway.”

Kiki finished wiping her eyes and nose, sniffling. “Why don’t people hike there?”

“Well first of all, the park rangers say it’s off limits because of the indigenous losers claiming it as sacred land or some dumb shit like that. And two, the trail sucks. It’s rocky, ugly, dangerous, and there’s zero payoff unless you find the hot spring cave—which smells like ass, by the way.” Riley rubbed her gloves together, watching the fire slowly die down.

Kiki awkwardly shifted in her chair, rubbing her knees together. “Are you racist or something? You keep saying bad things about the indigenous people here.”

 “Nope, I wouldn’t say I’m racist. It’s no secret that the majority of native people here are a bunch of useless drunks that do nothing but cause problems. They’re half the reason people don’t want to visit around here anymore.” Riley sighed, then looked down. “Maybe I am a little racist, but so what? It’s probably because growing up I always saw my dad clashing with them during his weird forest adventures. They live out there in trashed trailer park camps acting like they own the world. Maybe I’m in the wrong, but seriously, fuck those losers.”

Kiki tilted her head, a slight smirk forming as she covered her mouth. “At least you’re honest, I guess.”

“Hey don’t look at me like that.” Riley playfully punched Kiki’s shoulder, who jumped up and prepared to fight. “I don’t automatically hate every indigenous person I meet. It’s really just the troublemakers that piss me off. Our waitress was cool and I liked her. At least until she started trying to scare you with that booga booga superstitious bullshit.” 

“Sheesh, you really are racist, aren’t you… We'll work on that later, alright?” Kiki teased as she dragged her chair closer to Riley, scooting up beside her by the now-dwindling flames. She offered a small, tired smile to soften the comment. “Anyway, thanks for telling me all that. I know it’s not easy to talk about your past.”

Riley slowly blinked her heavy eyelids. “I don’t mind. It’s actually kinda nice to get it out in the open with someone like you. You listen, and I don’t have to worry about you pulling a Scarlett and coming back with an even more depressing story. Like when I tried to complain about how sad Christmas was after my dad got put away, she destroyed me with the most heart wrenching story of all time… A prison dad can never compete with a dead sister.”

Kiki tilted her head, her glasses catching the faint glow of the fire as she met Riley’s gaze. The flickering orange light reflected in Riley’s deep brown eyes, making them seem softer than usual. 

“You’ve had it rough, too,” Kiki said gently. “I’m sorry if I haven’t acknowledged that enough. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to go through your dad’s trial, with lawyers cross-examining you and everything. I know how intense they can be first hand, considering both my parents happen to be lawyers.”

Kiki added, “Scarlett murdered her sister, so the guilt must be overwhelming sometimes, but you didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t deserve a single bit of the hardships you’ve endured.”

Riley gritted her teeth. “No, don’t think of it like that. I’m an idiot and shouldn’t be trying to compare my problems with Scarlett anyway. Forget I said anything.”

Kiki put on a twisted frown, then an idea popped into her head.

“Oh hey. We should go visit your dad in prison.” Kiki released a deep, guttural yawn while stretching her arms out, then shook her head as she tried to process her own unusual request. “Sorry, I’m feeling really sleepy. That was dumb, I don't know what I’m saying anymore. Wanna go to bed?”

Riley couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, that’s a great idea. I can just see it now—‘Hi, Mr. Riley’s Dad, nice to meet you! I heard you have some fun forest boogeyman stories to tell!’”

Kiki rolled her eyes with a crooked smirk. “Whatever you say.” 

Riley stood and brushed herself off. “Alright, let’s call it. But I’m claiming the master bedroom.”

“So I get little Riley’s old bedroom? Lovely.” Kiki got up and dusted the snow off her jacket, heading toward the back door.

Riley kicked some snow onto the last flickering embers, smothering the fire until only thin wisps of smoke rose into the night. She followed Kiki into the cabin, their boots thudding softly against the wooden porch before they headed indoors

Riley flipped on a hallway light and rummaged through a closet. After a minute, she emerged with a small space heater. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm tonight.”

She led Kiki into the smaller of two bedrooms, then plugged it in. “Still works, phew.” 

As the heater’s coils glowed a bright orange, Kiki knelt down, holding her hands close to soak in the warmth. The soft hum of the space heater filled the room, a faint comfort against the eerie stillness of the cabin. Riley lingered in the doorway, watching her friend for a moment before raising a hand in a quick wave.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Kiki repeated, glancing over her shoulder with a sleepy smile before Riley disappeared down the hall.

The bedroom felt both cozy and unfamiliar as Kiki slipped under the covers. She left the lamp on—its dim glow pulsing slightly, flickering with the building’s unsteady power. Despite the soft light, the cabin seemed louder at night: the groans of old wood settling, sudden creaks from above, the persistent rattle of wind against the window.

Fear crept into her chest, but she pushed it down. From beneath the blanket, she whispered, “If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”

Fortunately for her, the long day of travel and excitement smothered out her fear of the night with exhaustion. Minutes later, she was fast asleep. 

Chapter 3

In what felt like an instant, she opened her eyes to see what she thought was a sunny morning through her blurry vision. However, after finding her glasses, she realized she was staring into the bulb of the table lamp next to her. Its seemingly bright glow was quickly swallowed up by the dark corners of the bedroom. 

She flopped onto her back and took a deep breath. The little heater had done its job reasonably well, but she was still cold. After wiping her red, runny nose, she climbed out of bed, drawn by the unmistakable smell of something meaty cooking downstairs.

Before leaving the room, she wandered over to the window. Frost had formed intricate crystalline patterns across the glass. She paused to admire them, but her eyes were soon drawn past the frost, to the dark woods beyond.

The dim bedroom light barely pushed back the shadows. With every step, the walls seemed to inch closer, as if the darkness itself was reaching for her. She exhaled sharply and saw her breath cloud the air. One hand traced the wall to guide her as she moved, and a brief dizzy spell made her stumble.

At last, she reached the hallway. The stairwell ahead was pitch black, save for a faint glow at the bottom—along with the comforting sounds of Riley in the kitchen, busy making breakfast. Kiki took her time descending. Each step felt like it might vanish beneath her, her feet unsure until they met solid wood. When she finally reached the bottom, Riley greeted her with a cheerful smile.

“Good morning, sunshine! Did you sleep well?” Riley asked, just as upbeat as ever.

Kiki slouched against the counter and wiped her eyes. “I feel funny.”

Riley immediately set the frying pan aside, her face creased with concern as she stepped closer to Kiki. “What’s wrong? Did you get sick?”

Kiki shook her head. “I don’t think so. Maybe I just didn’t sleep that well. I’m a bit drowsy.”

Riley kissed her forehead, then Kiki’s eyes shot wide open. “Well, you don’t have a fever or anything. Go rest on the couch and I’ll bring you some food in a sec.”

“Okay. Sure…” Kiki’s voice trailed off, her mind cloudy. 

She wiped her forehead and wandered into the other room, where a crackling fire had already warmed the space. Curling up on the couch, she sniffled and stared into the flames. Shadows from the fire danced along the walls, and her voice of reason struggled to hold back the feeling that something was wrong.

Shortly thereafter, Riley stole her train of thought with a plate of smoldering sausages, charred to perfection.

Kiki sat up, warily eyeing the food. “They smell great but look… questionable.” 

“Be quiet and eat up. You’ll need plenty of energy for our hike today.” Riley took a big bite of her sausage, then frantically gasped for cool air as the sizzling food rolled around on her tongue. 

With a quiet giggle, Kiki grabbed her own fork. She bit through the crispy skin and enjoyed the succulent, juicy meat within. A weight was lifted off her shoulders as she finished up her share of caribou sausage and seared artichokes. 

“Oh, and I’ve got good news,” Riley said, leaning in with a grin. “The shower’s all yours. Plenty of hot water to spare. Just, you know, don’t drink it.”

Kiki looked up at the mention of a shower and then noticed Riley’s damp hair and the faint smell of fruity soap lingering in the air. “Oh, how long have you been up?”

“A couple hours,” Riley answered casually, her eyes darting down to the mess of gear on the coffee table. “Too excited to sleep.”

Kiki’s gaze followed, landing on the collection of flashlights, hunting knives, and at the center, a revolver with a box of ammunition beside it. A knot tightened in her throat.

She then hastily stood up and collected their plates. “I’ll take a quick shower, then you can walk me through our hiking plans.”

“Mhm, take your time,” Riley mumbled with a rope between her teeth while tying a knot. “We’ll head out in the afternoon.”

Kiki gave a sharp nod, then walked back to the stairs. The daunting darkness stifled her movement. She gritted her teeth and steeled her nerves, then took quick steps to ascend in spite of her fear, like ripping off a bandage. 

“If I’m too scared to go take a shower, how the heck am I supposed to hike through those scary woods?” she muttered beneath her breath. 

Upstairs, she flipped on the light and stepped into the bathroom. The small water heater rumbled softly, its cartoonish pressure gauge bobbing like a relic from a bygone era. She cracked the hot water on and, once the temperature was just right, removed her glasses and undressed.

The thought of the hike ahead—the woods, the shadows, the missing hikers, the tribal camps—everything unsettled her, but the shower promised at least a brief escape. She stepped inside, letting the hot water soak into her hair and cascade down her shoulders, a welcome relief from the constant cold she had been enduring up until that point. 

Meanwhile, Riley had sprawled a large map across the coffee table after packing the supplies into her bag. She had a red marker in her mouth while her fingers drew out potential off-trail paths leading to an unmarked cave. 

After confirming the best route, she drew a red line starting from the lake shore near her cabin and circled the approximate location of the hot spring cave. It suddenly occurred to her that the cave likely didn’t have an official name yet. 

“Hmmm,” she hummed to herself in thought. “Riley Cave.”

She grinned at the idea, then wrinkled her nose at the memory of her last visit. “Nope… Shit Cave. Stinkhole. Diarrhea Fountain.”

She decided to think of a better name later, then rolled the map up and stuffed it into her backpack. She adjusted Kiki’s hiking pack too, lightening the load to account for her friend's inexperience.

Once that was squared away, Riley went back into the kitchen. She packed up some sliced sausages and granola bars, then grabbed a jug of purified water from the refrigerator to fill their canteens.

As she poured herself a glass, she heard what sounded like footsteps coming down the stairs.

Thump, thump, thump.

“Hey, you thirsty?” Riley called out. 

She poured a second glass and turned, but no one was there. The sofa was empty. Her eyes moved to the stairs. The bathroom light still glowed, and the shower was still running. Her eyes narrowed. 

“Kiki, are you alright up there?” Riley called out, then leaned against the counter while sipping water. 

Kiki peeked out, hair clinging to her cheeks. “Sorry, not trying to hog all the hot water or anything,” she said with a sheepish smile. “It just feels so nice.”

“It’s cool. Just making sure you didn’t fall asleep up there.” Riley gave a strained smile, watching the door close again. 

Moments later, Kiki emerged in only a towel and darted across the hall to her bedroom. “Eeep! So cold!”

Riley hardly acknowledged her as she slowly walked around the front room of the cabin, investigating every corner while sipping her water. When her eyes passed over the stairs again, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. 

She approached the bottom step and, without thinking, gave it a quick stomp.

THUMP

Kiki’s voice rang out instantly. “What are you doing?” She jogged downstairs, now in her signature cozy black sweater.

Riley carefully listened to Kiki’s footsteps, then looked up at her satisfied smile. “Uhm, nothing really. I guess I’m feeling a little funky today too. Anyway, I got you some drinkable water,” she said, handing over the second glass. 

Kiki accepted the glass with a grateful nod. “Mm, thanks.” She took a sip and made her way back to the warm, crackling fire in the living room. 

Riley followed, joining her by the hearth. She cleared her throat. “Alright, let me give you a quick rundown of the hike.”

Kiki nodded, flinging her damp hair over her shoulder.

Riley pulled the map from her backpack and dramatically rolled it open across the table.“We’re here, at the lake,” she said, dragging her finger across the map. “We’ll hike along this line here until we reach the east side of the mountain. I’m thinking it’ll take us about two hours to reach the cave.” 

She traced the red line she’d drawn, her voice growing more focused. “For good timing, I think we should leave here around ten, hit the cave by noon. Then we can explore, find the glowing worms, check out the cave, eat, rest, then head back when the sky should be lightest, around three.”

Kiki studied the map, her expression serious. She nodded firmly.

“Just remember, it’s mostly uphill on the way there. Pretty steep. But I know you can handle it.” Riley smiled and placed her hand on Kiki’s knee. “The return trip’s way easier.”

“Got it. I’ll do my best not to slow us down.” Kiki squeezed her shoulders together and straightened her back. “I’ve been nervous about this hike since we left Sulland, but now I’m feeling excited.”

“That’s the spirit. We’ll get those worms no problem.” Riley put her map away. 

Kiki stared up at the ceiling, her voice distant but hopeful. “I really hope we see them. I know the hatch window is tight, and the odds might not be great, but I just... I want them to be there so badly.”

Riley shrugged, casually flipping her marker between her fingers. “If they’re not, maybe you can grab some eggs or something. Study them back at home.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not here to poach specimens like some amateur on a middle school science fair project,” Kiki snapped, her voice sharp. “I need to observe them in their natural habitat. Removing them from their niche environment is not only pointless, but violates the conditions of my research grant.”

Riley held her hands up to surrender. “Alright, alright. I don’t get what the big deal is, but whatever. They’re just bugs.”

Kiki’s eye twitched and she clenched the side of her head, her heart rate picking up. “Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now? Did you forget the whole reason I wanted to come here was for field research?”

Riley let out a quiet laugh, leaning forward. “Alright, damn. You’re really sensitive about this stuff.”

Kiki balled her fists and abruptly stood off of the couch, then stomped over next to the fireplace. She plopped down and forced out a heavy breath, then began to brush her damp hair out by the fire while it dried. She kept her eyes and mouth shut.

Riley chewed the cap of her marker while she watched. “What, are you mad now?”

“I’m not mad,” she finally spoke up. “I know it must seem pointless to you, but this is very important to me. This is years of specialized study. It’s data collection protocols, ethics certifications, months of grant writing and departmental approval. Do you even understand how rare it is to study a colony of beetles in this climate? Their bioluminescent behavior could help us understand ecological cues, metabolic conservation, even evolutionary stasis—” She cut herself off with a bitter exhale. “Ugh, why am I even explaining this to you?”

“Okay, jeez. I get it.” Riley slouched back on the sofa and rested her boots on the coffee table. “I wasn’t trying to talk shit about your hobby. I think it’s pretty cool.”

“Damn it, Riley! This is not my hobby! This is my work. My thesis. My entire career path. I’m not out here freezing my ass off for fun!” Kiki groaned, her frustration boiling over. “It feels like you’re intentionally provoking me at this point. You sound just like my parents.”

Riley let her head fall backwards against the top of the sofa, staring at the ceiling. She let the weight of Kiki’s words settle in. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath. 

Kiki turned away again, curling her arms around her knees, the adrenaline bleeding into hollow, residual pain. She stared into the fire, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She wanted to apologize for snapping, for caring too much, but something wouldn’t let her. Her heart was thudding, locked behind invisible pressure.

Riley spoke up first. “Sorry, Kiki. I didn’t mean to talk down to you like that. You know I’m just a big stupid idiot that don’t use no words good.” 

Kiki didn’t move. Her glasses caught the firelight, casting pale reflections across her face while her shadow flickered and trembled across the cabin’s floorboards. Her bright blue eyes traced the natural patterns on the wooden planks while her mind wandered, absent of the anger that sent her there in the first place. 

“Kiki?” Riley called out. 

Still no reaction. 

Riley stood, her footsteps soft on the wood floor as she walked over to Kiki and sat beside her. Without a word, she rested her head on Kiki’s shoulder, letting out a long, heavy sigh. 

She stared into the flames by Kiki’s side. “You’re the smartest, most important person I know. I'm always hearing the zoo staff there talk about how awesome it is to work with you, and how you’re helping make it a better place for the animals.”

Kiki swallowed the lump in her throat and curled up even tighter. 

Riley continued. “Now you’re about to get a master’s? Come on, man. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, I can’t even begin to explain it. And yeah, maybe I’m just some dumbass with a badge and a flashlight—but damn, I’m lucky to be here helping you achieve something that actually matters. Just don’t forget to thank me when you win that Nobel Prize.”

Riley wrapped her arms around Kiki’s neck. “No one respects you more than me, Ms. Kolbeck.”

Kiki’s body relaxed, the tension slowly leaving her as she exhaled a forceful sigh. Her gaze softened as she met Riley’s eyes through her shimmering glasses. She didn’t say anything, but after a long moment of silence, she gave Riley a sideways hug, her attention still locked onto the fire.

“There’s definitely something weird about this cabin,” Kiki finally muttered. “I don’t know what came over me. Why did I get so mad just then?” 

“Yeah, probably the isolation or something. Cabin fever?” Riley stood up and brushed the dust off her pants. “Anyway, whenever you’re ready, we can get dressed and head out. I don’t know about you but I’m feeling extra pumped to get to this cave now.”

Kiki stared at the floor for a moment longer as her mind processed what had happened. Eventually, she shook her head, casting away those thoughts. “What did they say about me? The zoo staff.” 

Riley tilted her head with a sly smile. “Oh, you know. That you’re super smart and reliable. That you’ve made a huge difference in the quality of the animals’ lives since you started. Not to mention,” she pointed toward the stairs, already walking, “someone said something pretty interesting. He said you’re, like…”

“Like what?” Kiki pressed further, ignoring the shower of compliments. “And who said it?”

“Well that guy who feeds the reptiles said you’re super hot.” Riley nonchalantly whistled while ascending the steps.

Kiki’s cheeks flushed red as she hid her face behind her hair. “Okay, that’s absolutely false.”

Riley grinned even wider. “Hey, I’m just the messenger.” 

They entered the master bedroom, gear scattered across the floor. Riley grabbed her heavy jacket, then her mask, then paused to check her pack’s weight with a grunt. 

She then held out Kiki’s much lighter pack with one hand. “Alright, grab your gear and we’ll strap up. Remember, this is gonna be a tough hike, but it isn’t anything a beginner can’t handle.”

“It’s the cold I’m worried about,” Kiki said as she pulled her fluffy hood over her head. “And the dark.”

Riley nodded. “Good, because neither of those things will be an issue. You’re gonna be nice and warm on the uphill hike, and I’ve got plenty of light sources for us.”

As the pair got dressed in their warmest winter attire, Kiki paused with her thick fluffy jacket hanging off her shoulders. “Thanks for what you said downstairs. It… meant a lot.”

Riley responded with a casual thumbs up as she double-checked the gear buckles on her pack.

Kiki continued. “And for the record, field research wasn’t the only reason I wanted to come here. I’m glad to be spending so much time with you.” 

“Love you too, nerd. Alright! Let’s head out!” Riley strapped on her heavy backpack and led the way back downstairs with explosive enthusiasm.

While Kiki strapped into her own gear, Riley stuffed the revolver into the holster beneath her jacket, then slung the rifle over her shoulder. 

Kiki’s throat tightened as she watched, but she said nothing. She took one last sip from her trusty canteen, clipped it to her belt, and turned toward the door.

Riley shoved the door open dramatically, motioning toward the rocky cliffs jutting out above the dark forest. “No trails where we’re goin’!”

The two slipped into the dense tree line, swallowed by shadow. With each step, twilight dimmed further, choked by the canopy of skeletal branches overhead. 

Riley pressed a button on her headlamp, casting a bright, sterile beam forward. She moved effortlessly, her footing confident despite the loose rocks and uneven snow mounds.

Behind her, Kiki hunched forward, clutching the straps of her backpack, her breath quick and visible in the biting air. Wind swept in off the lake in sharp, punishing gusts, tearing through the underbrush and seeping into their clothes—but they pressed on, one foot in front of the other.

Deeper into the forest, an unnatural silence settled around them. Only the crunch of their boots against the snow broke the eerie stillness. Riley forged ahead without pause, stepping over rocks slick with frost and ducking under brittle limbs. Kiki followed, but each step came slower, her boots sinking deeper, her breath growing shorter.

Nearly an hour into the grueling ascent, Riley paused. Her silhouette shifted against the trees as she glanced back. “How’re you holding up back there?” she called over her shoulder.

Kiki dragged herself onto a slab of stone and leaned over, hands on her knees as she gasped for air. “I’m… good…” she wheezed. “What doesn’t kill us… makes us stronger…”

Riley chuckled and doubled back, kneeling beside her. “We’ll take a quick break.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” Kiki dropped onto the rock with a graceless thump, unscrewed her canteen, and took a deep gulp.

While Kiki caught her breath, Riley reached into her backpack and pulled out a sturdy coil of climbing rope from her pack. It was already looped through a thick steel ring. She knelt, selected a patch of frozen ground above the rock, and drove a serrated stake deep into the snowpack with several firm blows. Then she tossed the rope over the cliff and let it unspool, watching as it slipped over the edge of the slope and vanished into the shadows below.

Kiki watched the rope settle between a pair of unbelievably tall icicles, and she realized they were climbing up a frozen waterfall.

“Ascending rocks and cliffs like these is a lot easier than climbing back down,” Riley explained, testing the rope’s tension. “This’ll make sure we don’t slip on the way back. Plus, it doubles as a landmark so we don’t get lost.” She walked to a nearby tree and stabbed it with a small orange flag. 

Satisfied, Riley joined Kiki on the edge of the rock, letting her boots dangle as she stretched her legs. “We’re making good progress,” she said, glancing at the folded map again. “And hey, deeper in the woods means less wind. Not so bad now, is it?”

Kiki sat upright to observe their surroundings. The sun was nearing the horizon, which offered a faint glow between the trees. A few bright stars twinkled in the dark purple sky, and despite the uncomfortable lighting, the scenery was beautiful. The snow-dusted boulders and twisted black logs gave the forest an otherworldly feel. The cliff above was adorned with massive, glassy icicles. 

“How much farther?” she asked. 

Riley tapped the map, indicating a point past the clearing they’d reached. “We’re at this clearing. That means we’re over halfway there.” 

“Okay, halfway. I can do this.” Kiki hopped back onto her feet and rolled out her shoulders. “Let’s get to it.”

Riley gave her friend a fist bump and tucked away the map. “I’ve never seen this side of you before. You’re really pumped up.”

Kiki pushed ahead with renewed determination, her pace more confident. “Like I said; this is important to me.”

Riley reached back and grabbed Kiki’s hand to help her climb up another large rock. “I can see that.”

The two pressed on, navigating the hazardous terrain.  Kiki’s muscles burned, her feet ached, and her lungs stung with each icy inhale, but she kept pushing through. Every step sent fresh bursts of determination coursing through her body.

Eventually, the terrain leveled. Kiki exhaled hard, her breath fogging up her glasses. “When I was a kid, I was obsessed with fireflies,” she said, her voice muffled by her mask. “I’d catch them in jars and try to figure out how they worked.”

Riley slowed her pace, letting Kiki catch up as she spoke.

“That curiosity spiraled into something bigger—ethology. I needed to know why animals behave the way they do; why they evolve the traits they do. With lampyridae, it made no sense to me. Bioluminescence is basically a neon sign begging for predation. ”

She climbed over a small rise, huffing, then continued. “But the more I learned, the more questions I had. Turns out the glow helps them communicate, attract mates, trick prey of their own, and counterintuitively it can even ward off predators. The payoff outweighs the risk. Sometimes. Not always. But the more I learned the more that clade fascinated me.”

Riley nodded along, though she felt a bit lost in the vocabulary. 

“So my journey into studying ethology started with bioluminescent insects. Maybe it sounds silly, but for me it completes a circle.” She hesitated, looking at the snowy path ahead. “When you told me about seeing those glowing worms with your dad, I knew I had to come here. It made no sense—bioluminescent creatures in a tundra environment? It’s like they’re daring me to figure it out. I have to see them and learn what’s happening. That’s why this is so important to me.”

A quiet pride glowed behind Riley’s eyes. “You’re doing great, Kiki. We’re almost there.”

Kiki coughed into her sleeve and adjusted her foggy glasses. “Whenever I hit a wall with research, I think of fireflies to remind myself that sometimes all I need is a change of perspective. My weird little mantra: ‘Thank you, luciferin, for you are my light in the darkness.’”

They crested another rise, and the forest began to thin. A sudden, acrid scent hit them. Kiki wrinkled her nose and pressed her hand against her face mask. “Ugh, what’s that smell?”

Riley took a deep breath through her nostrils. “Ahh, the fresh smell of Shit Cave. It’s the sulfur spring.” 

Kiki groaned, coughing to clear her throat. “Yuck! It’s so strong here, I can taste the stench.”

They spotted a thin black line of steaming water slicing through the snow, zigzagging like a jagged lightning bolt. The contrast was stark against the frozen white landscape.

Kiki glanced at Riley with a blooming newfound appreciation. “So this is how you knew you could find the cave again. Makes perfect sense now. I really shouldn’t underestimate you out here.”

Riley smirked but kept her eyes on the slope ahead. “Told you I had it under control. I’m more than just a pretty face.”

They followed the sluggish flow of foul-smelling water up the snowy slope, its turbulent surface shimmering beneath the headlamps. A soft trickling sound filled the otherwise still air, lending an eerie yet serene backdrop to their trek. But as they trudged on, Riley suddenly stopped.

She threw an arm out, bracing her palm against Kiki’s chest. “Shh,” she whispered. “Did you hear that?”

Kiki turned around and shrugged, shaking her head.

swung the rifle off her back in one smooth motion, pressed the stock to her shoulder, and began a slow sweep of the trees. Her bright LED headlamp cut through the dark. Shadows bent and recoiled with each shift of the light, but revealed nothing.

Kiki whispered, “What is it?”

Riley lowered the muzzle of her rifle. “I thought I heard footsteps nearby.”

Kiki felt her stomach knot. She hugged her arms tightly around her chest. “You’re sure? I didn’t hear anything.”

Riley kept her voice calm but firm. “Just don’t freak out—it’s probably just a moose.” She yanked back on the bolt to load a bullet into the chamber, the metallic clank echoed loudly through the silence. “But if it’s wolves or a bear, we don’t want to hang around.”

She used her free hand to motion Kiki to move forward, like a soldier taking point. 

Kiki swallowed her nerves and obeyed, stepping carefully along the water’s edge. Every crunch of snow beneath her boots felt deafening in the silence, and her eyes darted nervously into the forest. With every glance she expected to see something lurking between the trees, but nothing moved. 

Riley stayed close behind, her rifle at the ready, ears sharp. Eventually, she eased her posture and picked up speed. “We’re close,” she said, though her voice was tight.

The trees thinned, and finally the cliff emerged from the dark, jagged and towering. Kiki’s anxiety gave way to a surge of excitement. The black mouth of the cave stood out against the snow at the base of the mountain.

“We’re here!” Riley called, her voice echoing faintly. Her earlier tension seemed to evaporate. “Come on, let’s check it out.”

Kiki’s eyes lit up as she broke into a jog. She crouched down to slip through the low entrance, the beam from Riley’s headlamp sweeping past her. Inside, the air was humid and warm, thick with the scent of sulfur, damp stone, and decay.

The shallow cave glistened with moisture. Hot water welled up from a narrow crack in the stone, spilling into the thin stream they had followed. Vivid mosses clung to the slick rock, thriving in the geothermal heat. Clusters of delicate mushrooms dotted the edges of the pool, their caps pale, nearly translucent in the gloom.

“It’s incredible,” Kiki whispered, her voice tight with awe. She gripped Riley’s sleeve, eyes scanning every surface, searching for signs of movement. The warmth, the moisture, the microclimate—it was an entire ecosystem hidden beneath ice and stone.

Riley clicked off her headlamp, plunging the cave into darkness. 

Kiki blinked, disoriented. The cave mouth behind them glowed faintly with the surreal twilight outside. Then, slowly, the cave walls began to flicker. One by one, tiny red points of light emerged like embers flaring in the dark.

She inhaled sharply, clutching the camera that hung around her neck. “Oh my gosh, Riley—they’re here. They’re really here.”

Kiki crept toward the wall, drawn like a moth to flame. She leaned in close, her voice trembling with awe. “I didn’t expect them to be red. They look like Phrixothrix... but how’d they get here?”

Riley turned her head slightly, speaking low. “I could’ve sworn they were green when I came here with Dad. But that was… ten years ago.”

Kiki froze. “Green? Are you serious?” Her voice sharpened with excitement and alarm. “That kind of phenotypic shift in bioluminescence—if it’s not just memory error—could suggest a whole range of ecological pressures or even rapid adaptation. Unless they’re an entirely different species altogether…”

She dropped to her knees, already rifling through her pack for her notepad. The sound of pencil on paper scratched out quick, frantic lines as she scribbled: dense moss coverage, sulfuric humidity, synchronized pulsing. The larvae glowed in intermittent waves, creating soft, rhythmic pulses, as though breathing in unison.

Turning in a slow circle, Kiki's headlamp beam revealed more life: spindly arachnids retreating into cracks, minute bivalves clinging to wet rocks.

“Riley, you didn’t say anything about the spiders, or the bivalves. Wait…” She crouched and flipped a rock. “Isopods?! Are you kidding me?!”

Riley chuckled, leaning against a wall. “I can’t believe you still have this much energy.”

But Kiki had gone silent. She stood still, transfixed, the glow bathing her skin in dim red light. The walls seemed alive, throbbing like a slow heartbeat.

“They’re responding to us,” she said softly. “The pulses—there’s a pattern shift. It’s almost like… an aposematic display. Anti-predation signaling.” She looked around, voice low. “They’re trying to look like a larger organism. Which means... something hunts them. But what? This behavior wouldn’t affect the spiders, considering they’d already be ensnared in its web… hmmm…”

Her pencil returned to the page. Notes flowed: simultaneous pulsing = mimicry? Anti-predator? Biotic threat presence? She adjusted her camera, dialed down the exposure, and snapped a photo.

“Riley, can you aim your light at this one?” she asked, already refocusing her lens. “I want to capture the segmentation.”

“Yep, no prob.” Riley angled the dim beam just right, illuminating the worm as it attempted to retreat into the moss.

Kiki continued her work in a kind of trance. Her notes thickened with detail—temperature readings, behavioral sketches, environmental cues. She didn’t notice how much time passed. The camera clicked again and again. The air had begun to feel heavy.

Finally, she let out a long breath and slumped onto a flat rock. Her legs ached, her fingers stiff from writing. “Riley… you hungry? Let’s eat something.”

Riley stood and stretched. “Yeah, but can we go outside? I don’t really wanna eat in this stinky ass cave.”

“Oh, sure.” Kiki sniffed the air, then shrugged. “I think I’ve acclimated to the smell. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Well, that’s just you.” Riley waved the air in front of her nose and grimaced. 

They headed toward the exit. Riley ducked out into the frigid night, the steam of the cave clinging to her coat. Kiki followed just behind, lingering for one last glance.

Riley suddenly blocked Kiki’s path. “Stay there.”

Ahead, three tall men emerged from the trees, cloaked in heavy fur coats, their faces weathered and hard. Rifles hung from their shoulders, but the leader had already leveled his weapon, aimed directly at Riley.

Riley lifted her hands, her eyes darting between them. “Look, we don’t want no trouble. We’re on our way out of here right now.” 

The leader didn’t lower his gun. His voice was low and stern. “You trespass on sacred land and think you can walk away? Your kind always comes to take. You think you can crawl into our mountains, dig up our resources, and vanish like it never happened.”

He whistled sharply, a piercing sound that echoed through the still air. At his signal, the man to his left moved toward the cave entrance.

“Wait!” Riley barked, stepping forward instinctively.

Kiki stumbled back into the cave, scrambling away from the approaching man.

“Hey!” Riley snapped, swinging her rifle up. “Back off! I told you—we’re leaving. We don’t want your damn cave. It smells like ass out here anyway!”

The leader’s jaw clenched. He motioned to his remaining companion, who raised his rifle and aimed it squarely at Riley. “This cave is sacred to my people. Don’t defile it with your insults. Now drop your gun or we’ll shoot, ya hear?” 

Riley’s hands twitched. Her mind spiraled with gruesome images—Kiki lying in the snow, lifeless, her eyes and tongue missing. Riley’s pulse spiked.

“Alright! Alright.” Her voice cracked as she lowered the rifle and tossed it into the snow. “Nobody has to get hurt. We’ll go. You’ll never see us again.”

“No, it’s not that simple.” The hunter nodded toward the cave, his expression cold and unyielding. “Tukta! Get the other girl!”

“No! Stay away!” Kiki’s scream echoed from inside. She snatched up a rock and hurled it with all her strength. It struck the advancing man square in the chest, making him stagger.

Instantly, the other two hunters swung their rifles toward the cave entrance.

BANG BANG BANG

The crack of gunfire shattered the stillness of the forest, the sound reverberating like thunder against the mountainside. The man at the cave’s entrance crumpled forward, his body slumping lifelessly against the opening.

Smoke curled from the barrel of Riley’s revolver. She stood just a few meters away, hunched low, arms trembling from the weapon’s violent recoil. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, fixed on the man she’d just killed. Her chest heaved, but she didn’t move.

The remaining two hunters stared at her in shock and disbelief.

Riley didn’t hesitate for another second. She pulled the trigger, blasting two more rounds into the chest of the lead hunter with thunderous claps. The impact sent him tumbling backwards, limbs limp, his blood seeping into the powdery pristine snow.

Riley turned toward the last man.

POP

A burst of heat tore through her chest. She gasped, stumbled, and fell hard onto the ice, her elbow smashing against frozen rock. Pain bloomed deep in her ribs. She clutched her side, the agony sharpening her vision into a tunnel. Her attacker was cycling the bolt, preparing to fire again.

Panic and adrenaline surged through her body. She raised the revolver. 

BANG click click click

The cylinder was empty. 

Her fingers dug into her coat, pressing hard on the wound. The man was still breathing, just barely. She crawled toward her rifle lying in the snow. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her weapon and forced herself to her feet. Her breathing was shallow, the sharp sting in her ribs threatening to bring her back down, but her mind screamed for survival. 

She hobbled up to the incapacitated hunter, and with a quick, jerking motion, she worked the bolt, discarding a bullet and chambering a new round. 

The hunter was lying on his back, gasping for breath, blood bubbling in his mouth. The heavy bullet from the revolver had shattered his ribs and pierced through his lung. 

Their eyes met. 

Kiki emerged from the cave, shaking as she stepped over the corpse blocking the entrance. She looked at Riley and spotted her rifle’s muzzle hovered inches from the only surviving man’s face. His wide, terrified eyes pleaded silently, but Riley’s gaze burned with a mixture of hatred and pain. 

“Riley?” Kiki called out to her friend, her voice small.

Riley didn’t respond. The man beneath her was shaking, and his expression twisted with terror and pain gave her a chilling sensation of satisfaction. Something evil stirred deep within her heart as she looked into his eyes. He knew he was about to die.

Darkness pooled at her feet, roiling and viscous. Riley shifted the muzzle downward, pressing it directly over his heart. The man silently begged for mercy with his desperate eyes. The rush of power and control was invigorating. 

Kiki held her breath, her eyebrows low as she observed her friend. Though hardly visible, an undeniable darkness was cloaking her. It was jagged and malevolent, like a massive flying monster had perched on her shoulders. Her fear and panic swirled together like a raging torrent in her heart. The more she trembled and ached, crushed by her powerful emotions, the more clearly she began to see the dark figure. 

Riley’s finger teased the trigger. 

Kiki cried out, “Wait, don’t!” 

The violent crack of another gunshot echoed through the frozen landscape. 

Kiki dropped to a crouch, her arms shielding her head.

Riley ejected the spent casing. The sharp snap of the bolt echoed in the trees. Her voice then cut through the frigid air, sharp and commanding. “Kiki, let’s go!”

Kiki stood, legs shaking, and picked her way through the snow now soaked in red. Her boots slipped slightly on the frozen ground as she stumbled forward.

“Why?” she whispered. “Why did this happen?”

When Riley faced her terrified friend, her eyes softened and her muscles relaxed. She gently covered Kiki’s eyes and led her away from the site of the massacre. “Come on,” she said quietly. “Let’s get out of here.”

They walked until the distance between them and the massacre was sufficiently far. Eventually, Riley collapsed beside a tree, gulping from her canteen, the water trickling down her chin. 

She slid the strap of her pack off one shoulder, wincing sharply. “Shit, Kiki… can you help me carry this? It’s getting too damn heavy.”

Riley’s breath came in short gasps. She sagged against the trunk, her face pale beneath the streaks of sweat. “Ah, yep. They got me pretty good,” she muttered, trying to laugh, but it came out as a strained exhale. 

Kiki dropped to her knees beside her friend, panic flooding her mind. “Riley, you’re hurt! We need to get you to a hospital!”

Riley smirked weakly, brushing off the concern with a wave of her good hand. “Relax, it’s just a little .22 round. May as well be a BB gun.”

But when Kiki unzipped Riley’s jacket, her heart stopped. A deep red stain bloomed across her shirt, vivid against pale skin. “Riley, I don’t know what to do! What do I do?!”

Riley seized her wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “First, breathe. I’ve got a first aid kit in my pack. Same one I use at work—there’s a chest seal inside. Grab it.”

She leaned back, pressing a shaky hand to her forehead. As the adrenaline faded, pain surged up, intense aching in her lungs, sharp stabbing jolts in her elbow, and a powerful burning from the bullet lodged just beneath her rib.

Kiki’s hands trembled as she fumbled through the oversized pack, her fingers brushing past water bottles, every size of bandage, and emergency foil blankets before finding the compact kit. 

Riley tugged at her shirt, grimacing as the sticky fabric peeled away from the wound.

Kiki returned, clutching the kit like a lifeline. She hesitated, unsure where to start. “Riley, I… I’ve never done anything like this…”

“It’s fine, just help me take this shirt off so you can put the chest seal on.” Riley slowly and limply raised up her broken arm, grinding her teeth. “My elbow’s completely fucked. I need help.”

Kiki swallowed hard and knelt closer, her shaky hands cold and clumsy as she helped guide the sleeve over her arm. The shirt came free with a sickening tug. She spotted the gruesome bullet wound beneath her collarbone, blood oozing sluggishly in the freezing air.

“Fuck, it’s cold.” Riley shivered, her chest bare to the wind.

Kiki bit back a sob and got to work. She tore open a gauze pad, slathered on disinfectant, and cleaned the skin around the wound with water from her bottle. Her hands shook as she positioned the sterile pad, then applied the chest seal with trembling fingers.

“OW! Ow—okay, stop!” Riley jerked away, face contorted in pain.

Kiki winced, empathetically feeling powerful pangs through her own chest. “I’m sorry. I thought I was supposed to apply pressure.” 

“You’re not wrong,” Riley hissed through gritted teeth, “but I’ll take it from here.” 

She smoothed the seal’s edges herself, slow and deliberate, each motion etched with pain. Then she staggered upright, leaving the bloody shirt in the snow. Her right arm hung limp at her side as she tucked it inside her jacket and zipped up. “Fell hard on my elbow. This hike back is gonna suck.”

Kiki’s bright blue eyes brimmed with tears. “What are we gonna do now? What about those people? Are we… Are we going to jail?”

Riley leaned against her, heavy and unsteady. “Listen carefully. Here’s what happened: we were exploring the cave. Those guys showed up, yelling about trespassing. We didn’t know we were on their land. They made me drop my rifle. When they thought I was unarmed, they shot me.”

She locked eyes with Kiki. “I returned fire with my revolver. Took out the one chasing you first. Then the other two.”

Kiki furrowed her brow. “But you—”

Riley put her glove over Kiki’s mouth. “Hey. We feared for our lives. It all went down exactly the way I said. Understood?”

Kiki finally understood. She offered a slow nod, but her nerves were still shaken. “This is so wrong. You almost died. You could still die. We need to get you help, Riley, now.”

Riley straightened as much as she could, shifting her weight off Kiki. “I’m not gonna die. But if I did, hey, dying to save your life? Everyone would call me a hero, haha.”

“Don’t joke about that!” Kiki snapped, her voice cracking.

Before she could say more, Riley lifted a hand sharply. “Shh.”

She stumbled up to Kiki and dug through the backpack for ammo. Her fingers, stiff from the cold, clinked against the metal casings. She dumped the spent shells from the revolver’s drum and reloaded, one cartridge at a time. Then she leaned close and whispered, “I think I heard someone else.”

Kiki froze, her chest tightening. She was on the verge of hyperventilating as her wide eyes scanned the shadows of the forest. She clutched the straps of her pack and bit her lip. 

Riley motioned with the revolver. “Move.” She shoved the heavy rifle into Kiki’s hands. “There’s nine shots left. Hold the stock under your arm. After you shoot, flip this lever up, pull the bolt back, push it forward, then flip it down again. Got it?”

She wiped her runny nose, then pulled the mask over her mouth. “It might be up to you to save us if more of those tribal pigs attack again, so stay sharp.”

Kiki stared at the weapon in horror. The weight of it, the cold steel and oiled wood, felt alien in her trembling arms. “What?! I can’t use this!”

Riley gave a thin, humorless smile. “You might not have a choice. I can’t shoot worth a damn left-handed.”

Kiki clung to the rifle as she walked, her steps heavy. Her eyes filled with tears and her heart ached. “This isn’t right. This can’t be happening.”

“None of this is,” Riley said grimly, limping forward to take the lead.

They followed their own tracks through the snow, heading back the way they’d come. Riley pressed on, her breaths short, sweat beading under her clothes despite the cold. Her steps grew slower and stiffer. Kiki trailed behind, exhaustion dragging at every movement.

Hours passed before they reached the orange flag Riley had planted earlier. The rope hung as a lifeline over the jagged rocks they’d climbed before. The purple sky had dimmed, the brightest twilight hours long since faded, and the forest had been plunged into an inhibiting darkness. 

Riley flipped her headlamp to the brightest setting, but its beam of white light was easily swallowed by the gaps between the trees. With the temperature plummeting, she felt the encroaching threat of hypothermia.

Riley sank onto the edge of a flat rock, her feet dangling over the steep edge. She looked at the rope, then at Kiki. “I don’t know if I can make it down these rocks right now,” she admitted, her voice heavy with fatigue. “You might need to leave me here and go get help.”

Kiki dropped the backpack with a thud, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her own exhaustion. “No!” she snapped, shaking her head violently. “Absolutely not! You can do this. You have to. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Riley shined her headlamp down the jagged slope. “Alright, but if I fall, you might have to leave me behind for good.”

“Shut up!” Kiki snapped. “I’m not leaving you. I can help you get down.”

Before Riley could argue, Kiki hoisted the heavy backpack off her shoulders and hurled it down the slope. The bag tumbled and crashed against the rocks, landing with a muffled thud at the bottom.

“Kiki!” Riley groaned, flinching at the sight. “My emergency tent and blankets are in that bag!” 

“Then we’d better get it,” Kiki said, already gripping the rope. She reached for Riley’s arm. “Hold onto me. We’re going down together.”

Riley’s right hand was numb. Her left barely worked. But she wrapped her good arm around Kiki’s waist and braced herself.

The first drop was the farthest down. As soon as they started, Riley lost her grip. She slid down the icy rock, crashing onto the platform below. She landed on her feet, but the impact sent a fresh shock of agony through her entire body. She unleashed an excruciating cry and crumpled against the cliffside.

“Oh god, Riley! Are you okay?” Kiki rappelled down in a hurry, steadying her. “We’re almost out. Just hold on, okay?”

Riley bit her lip, her eyes full of tears. She steeled herself as best she could, then gave a slow nod while reaching around Kiki’s back. “Okay…”

They continued the descent. The drops grew shorter, the path marginally easier. Kiki guided Riley step by step, pouring every ounce of strength into keeping upright. Until finally, they reached the end of the rope. 

Kiki’s breath came in sharp, shallow puffs. She looked out across the snow and narrow trail between the trees ahead. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without that rope. You really saved us with it.”

Riley didn’t respond. She was barely upright. Her face was ghostly pale, her nose raw and red. Her right arm hung uselessly, and the pain that once screamed now simmered, her mind lost in a detached, numbing fog of desperate endorphins. 

Kiki’s heart cracked. She grabbed the backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and slipped under Riley’s good arm, pulling her close. It was her turn to carry the weight.

Each step forward was a grueling battle against the elements. The fierce wind howled, its chill slicing through their coats like icy razorblades. Snow whipped across their faces, stinging their cheeks and blurring their vision. 

Together, they trudged forward. The moon had appeared over the mountain behind them to cast its cold white light between the dense trees. Their hobbling silhouettes were dwarfed by the looming wilderness.

They were nothing more than two small figures fighting against a merciless, frozen world, their headlamps like tiny embers being slowly extinguished by an icy abyss. 

Chapter 4

After what felt like an endless, agonizing journey, the frosty shore of the lake came into view. Kiki’s heart surged with hope. She gripped Riley tighter and hauled her forward. “We’re almost there! Come on, Riley, keep moving!”

Riley lost her balance as she was pulled and collapsed facedown in the snow. 

“No! No, no, no! Get up!” Kiki dropped to her knees, clawing at Riley’s jacket and rolling her onto her back. Tears streamed down her face, freezing almost instantly against her windburned cheeks. “Please, we’re so close. You can’t stop now!”

Riley didn’t respond. Her body was still, her shallow breaths barely visible as they stirred the frigid air. 

Kiki pressed her face to her friend’s chest, sobs wracking her body in broken, gasping waves. The weight of despair wrapped around her like a vice, squeezing the strength from her bones.

“Riley, please,” Kiki cried, her voice dry and cracked. “I can't do this without you...”

After a long moment, a weak cough broke through the silence. Riley yanked off her facemask and tossed it aside. “Bitch... I’m trying,” she muttered, then pushed herself up on her good elbow. Her face was pale but alive.

Kiki let out a breathless laugh, tears still falling. She helped Riley to her feet, supporting her weight as they trudged forward. “We’re almost there. Let’s go.”

Her glasses were frosted over, but she didn’t stop to clear them. Just ahead, the UTV shimmered like a mirage of salvation. Kiki helped Riley into the passenger seat; Riley slumped sideways against the door with a groan. Kiki threw the rifle and backpack into the trunk, barely sparing a glance at the nearby cabin until something caught her eye. A faint flame flickered in the window, and a particularly concerning shadow danced just behind the glass. 

She forced her eyes away. There was no time for fear. 

Kiki scrambled into the driver’s seat and turned the key, thankful it was left in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and she cranked the heater to full blast. The warmth wasn’t much, but it was enough to thaw her trembling hands and offer a sliver of comfort. She looked over at Riley, whose chest rose and fell in shallow, rhythmic pulses.

“Riley!” Kiki nudged her leg. “I need directions. Tell me where to go!”

No response. Riley’s eyes were half-closed, staring blankly ahead. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Kiki smacked the steering wheel, struggling to keep herself from falling apart. She sucked in a deep breath, forcing her trembling hands to steady. If Riley couldn’t guide her, she would have to find the way herself. There was no other choice. Riley’s life depended on her.

Her hands trembled as she wiped her glasses and peered into the swirling white beyond. She drove blindly into the snow. Then—like a rope thrown to a drowning swimmer—she spotted the familiar trail markers jutting from the snow.

She followed the trail. 

However, as Kiki pressed onward, the trail markers disappeared. The snowy wilderness seemed to stretch endlessly, and nothing looked familiar anymore. She looked to her dying friend once again for help. 

“Tell me where to go, Riley. Come on, please just say something. Anything.” 

Silence. 

Swallowing hard, Kiki returned her gaze to the trees. Something about the moonlit wilderness felt wrong, though she couldn’t quite say why. All she knew was that turning back was no longer an option.

That’s it, Kiki—Luna Lake and Mount Blackwood. We’ll be at the station soon.

Kiki’s eyes shot wide open as she heard a voice in the back of her mind. Just as her hope had begun to unravel, something caught her eye—the eerie wooden stick figure she’d seen earlier. Relief surged through her. She slammed the gas. She was on the right path.

Shimmering sparks suddenly appeared between the trees. City lights, blurry and distant, popped into focus one after another as she pressed forward. 

“Finally!” Kiki cried. The UTV broke free from the forest and onto the road. She veered toward civilization, urgency eclipsing caution. Spotting a couple walking ahead, she skidded to a stop and unzipped the plastic window.

“Please!” she gasped. “Where’s the nearest emergency room?”

The startled couple exchanged glances before both pointing down the same road. “That way, there.” 

Without waiting for another word, Kiki floored the gas, tearing through intersections, ignoring stop signs and red lights. Every second mattered.

“You’re right, Kiki.” Riley mumbled, her voice dry and brittle.

Kiki’s heart sank into her stomach. “Riley? We’re almost there. Hang on—you’re gonna be okay.”

“Demons are real,” Riley whispered, her glassy eyes fixed on something far beyond the windshield.

Kiki’s stomach twisted. She risked a glance at her friend.

“Look,” Riley said, weakly raising a trembling hand. She pointed at nothing. “He’s here with us. He’s always been here.”

Kiki nervously glanced around as she sped forward. She clenched the wheel, fighting back tears. She forced herself to look straight ahead, refusing to let fear slow her down. 

Then salvation greeted her. The hospital sign appeared through the snowfall like a beacon. She sped toward the emergency entrance, treads skidding as she pulled onto the curb and slammed the brakes, ignoring the painted arrows and No Parking signs. 

She rushed through the sliding glass doors in a full sprint. 

“Help! Someone help me!” she screamed, her voice raw with desperation. “My friend’s been shot! She needs help now!”

Her words came out in broken gasps, and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. She looked down at her cold, shaking hands, illuminated by the bright white hospital lights, stained with Riley’s blood.

“Please… please save her…” 

Two EMTs bolted toward the vehicle. Through her blurred vision, Kiki saw them pulling Riley’s limp body from the passenger seat and onto a stretcher. The doors slid shut behind them, drowning her in fluorescent silence.

The sound of squeaking stretcher wheels broke through her haze as they rolled past. 

Kiki looked up just in time to see the doctors swarming around Riley, barking orders, moving fast. A nurse was already squeezing fluids into an IV. They disappeared down the hall. She wiped her eyes, barely able to see, but she watched until Riley was gone from view.

“We made it,” she whispered. 

The chaos of the ER buzzed and blurred into static. A group of nurses surrounded her, their voices muffled and blending into the background noise. Her body trembled, vision tunneling. The adrenaline drained away, leaving her hollow and weightless.

The next morning, Kiki awoke in a hospital room. 

Her face and hands were wrapped in thick bandages, and her lips cracked with every breath. Her body ached, her throat burned—but none of it mattered. Only one thought pulsed through her mind.

Where’s Riley?

She tried to sit up, but a metallic tug at her wrist stopped her cold. She looked down.

A wave of panic surged through her. “Hello?” she called.

A man in a gray trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat stepped into the room. His face was stern but not unkind, his piercing eyes softened by a hint of sympathy. 

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Detective Carter. If you’re up to it, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Kiki’s heart raced. She glanced at the man, then back to her cuffed hand. “Is Riley okay?” she blurted out.

Carter’s expression shifted slightly. He paused, his pen hovering over a notepad. “She’s stable. Took a bullet to the chest, but the doctors say she’s lucky to be alive.”

Kiki exhaled a trembling breath, relief overwhelming her.

Carter stepped closer and unlocked the cuff with a quiet click. “All right,” he said gently. “Now tell me what happened.”

She rubbed her wrist, staring at her swollen, bluish fingertips. The detective’s calm, steady presence made it easier to speak through the weight of the memories.

“I… I don’t know. I uhm…” Kiki shook her head, her eyes already forming tears. “We went hiking to find a cave near the mountain. Then they attacked us.”

“They?” Carter asked, pen scratching against paper.

Kiki swallowed hard. “Some men. They looked indigenous, I think. I don’t know for sure. They said we were trespassing on their sacred land. They were furious.”

Carter scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, they’re territorial. Think they own the whole state.” He scribbled a note. “So How’d your friend end up getting shot?”

Kiki’s throat tightened, and she pressed her bandaged hand against her mouth as the memories flooded back—The blood, the gunshots, the darkness. She forced herself to speak. 

“They made her drop the rifle she was carrying,” she said quietly. “It was for protection. From bears, not people. Then one of them came after me, he was told to drag me out of the cave. Riley screamed at them to stop, and… and then they shot her.”

Carter’s pen stopped. His gaze sharpened. “So how did you two make it out of that situation alive?”

Kiki froze, her mind racing. Riley’s story echoed in her ears: We feared for our lives.

“She had a revolver in her jacket,” Kiki said slowly. “They didn’t know. I—I threw a rock at the guy who was coming after me, and when they turned to look at me, she shot them. It was self-defense. She’s a security guard, and she knows how to shoot. If she hadn’t… they would’ve killed us. We feared for our lives.”

She pulled her knees to her chest, curling inward. “I was terrified. I don’t remember everything clearly.”

Detective Carter leaned in slightly, his piercing gaze steady as he jotted down her story. “So when we recover the bodies, they’ll match your version of events?”

Kiki stared at her blanket, jaw tight. “I have proof.”

She reached over to the chair beside the bed, where her jacket had been folded. Resting atop it was her digital camera. She picked it up, clicking through the photos with trembling hands.

“This,” she said, holding the camera out to the detective.

He took it, examining the small screen. The photo showed Riley standing with her hands raised. Two men had their rifles aimed at her, while a third man advanced toward the camera—toward Kiki. The jagged walls of the cave’s entrance framed the image.

Carter’s expression hardened as he studied the photo. “This is some pretty convincing evidence.” He carefully slipped the camera into a plastic evidence-bag. “We’re going to need to hold onto this for the investigation.”

Kiki’s gut reaction was to protest and demand the return of her camera, but she stopped herself just in time. Her fists clenched at her sides as Detective Carter tipped his hat and disappeared down the hallway, his quiet conversation with other officers fading behind him.

Her heart was racing, but after a few moments to calm down, she realized she was free to roam around. Her next course of action was to find Riley. Kiki slid off the bed, her frostbitten toes stinging against the tile floor. She ignored the pain. She had only one goal in mind. 

She wandered into the hallway, steadying herself against the wall. Then, just ahead, she saw her—Riley, pale and battered, using her IV stand as a makeshift cane. Her arm was encased in a cast, and her hands wrapped in bandages.

“Riley!” Kiki squeaked in delight. “You’re okay! I’m so, so glad!” 

She rushed forward, throwing her arms around Riley, who grunted in pain but held on tight with her good arm, resting her chin on Kiki’s hair.

“You saved my life, Kiki.” Though she wanted to, Riley couldn’t bring herself to smile. “I thought I was being the hero, but it’s you.” 

Kiki buried her face against Riley’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing. Through the thin hospital gown, she saw the bloodstained bandages covering her friend’s wounds.

“You saved me first,” Kiki murmured. “I just returned the favor.”

Riley chuckled weakly, then winced. “Alright, that kinda hurts. Let’s ease up on the chest area, huh?” She gently broke off the hug, though her hand lingered on Kiki’s shoulder. “Man, we’re gonna miss our train at this rate. And I doubt the cops are letting me leave until their investigation’s done, anyway.”

Kiki shook her head, brushing away lingering tears. “Doesn’t matter. We’re not going anywhere until you’re healed.”

A nurse appeared moments later to gently guide Riley back to her room, and Kiki followed without question. From that moment on, she refused to leave her friend’s side.

Later that evening, long after their train to the Anchorage airport had departed without them, Kiki sat beside Riley’s hospital bed. Her phone glowed softly in her hands as she composed messages to friends and family. Next was Scarlett, who was definitely freaking out by now.

She opened a blank email and began to type.

Subject: We’re Fine
To: [email protected]

Hey Scarlett,
Don’t worry about us. We’re staying a few days longer than planned. You’re never going to believe this, but we’re currently being detained by the police.

Long story short, Riley shot and killed three men who ambushed us out in the middle of nowhere. Total self-defense—they shot her first. When the police investigated, the bodies were already gone.

Apparently, there’s suspicion that some of the local tribes near Mount Blackwood are involved in some messed up shit. I overheard the word “cannibalism” while eavesdropping on the police in the hallway outside of Riley’s room. 

So yeah… Yikes!

Anyway, Riley’s recovering fast. We should be home once she’s cleared and pays the fine for carrying a concealed firearm without a permit. That’ll be the day after tomorrow.

Suffice to say: worst vacation ever.

—With love,
          Kiki

Message sent. 

For a moment, she stared at her phone, imagining Scarlett’s reaction—probably halfway between a heart attack and a murder plot. A small, tired smile crept across her face.

When she looked up, Riley was shoveling mashed potatoes into her mouth while staring blankly at the hospital TV.

“I told Scarlett what happened,” Kiki said, glancing at Riley to see her reaction.

Riley nodded, eyes still fixed on the TV. “Did you make me sound like a badass?”

Kiki rolled her eyes. “I told her this is the worst vacation I’ve ever had.” She climbed onto the bed beside her, curling up close. “How are you feeling?”

Riley shrugged, thumbing the remote. “Good enough, I guess. They said the bullet hit my third rib. If it had been a centimeter lower, it would’ve pierced my heart.” 

Kiki quietly stared at her, then gently lifted the edge of Riley’s hospital gown to examine the bandages.

Riley raised an eyebrow. “You tryin’ to look at my tits?” 

“No, dummy,” Kiki muttered, letting the fabric fall. “I’m just still having a hard time understanding all this. Everything happened so quickly.” 

“You know how it is. Shit happens,” Riley explained. 

“‘Shit happens,’” Kiki mocked, mimicking her tone. “Stop trying to act cool. I know you must have something to say about it.”

Riley shook her head. “Nope. It is what it is.” 

Kiki sighed, giving up the battle. She rested her head on Riley’s uninjured arm, eyelids fluttering. “Fine. Goodnight then. I need to wake up early and finish my presentation.”

Riley put down the remote and absentmindedly stroked Kiki’s hair, her gaze unfocused. The cartoons on the screen blended into nonsense. Her thoughts were churning loudly enough to drown out every other sound.

Did I just get away with murder?

“No, it really was self-defense,” she muttered out loud. 

Kiki’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of Riley’s voice. She looked up, surprised to see tears streaming silently down Riley’s cheeks. But she said nothing—only laid her head back down, closer this time.

When Kiki was finally snoring, Riley sniffled to clear her nose. Then suddenly, a sound slithered through the dim room. 

“Murderer,” a disembodied whisper reverberated from wall to wall. “Murderer.” 

Riley jerked upright, her eyes darting around the room. They were alone. 

Kiki sat up as well, alarmed. “You okay? Do you need something?”

Riley’s voice came out shaky. “Did… did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Kiki’s tone softened with a hint of skepticism.

“A voice. It said—” She paused, then slumped back against her pillows. “Never mind. I think I’m high on painkillers.”

Kiki laughed gently and tucked herself back against Riley’s side. “Lucky you.”

Riley tucked her broken arm under the blanket and closed her eyes. The uneasy feeling didn’t fade, though. The longer she kept her eyes closed, the more it deepened. Her eyes popped open. 

Suddenly, the once comfortably lit room felt dark. An ominous blackness seemed to seep out from the corners, a mixture of the absence of light, and a physical presence. 

Riley’s breathing quickened as a cold, foreign fear settled into her chest. 

Behind the veil of darkness, she could feel a menacing presence staring back at her, brimming with hatred. It felt like looking down the barrel of a loaded shotgun while the trigger was slowly being squeezed. Every aching muscle in her body tensed against the invisible onslaught. It pressed into her like a weight she couldn’t push off.

Riley squeezed her eyes shut, then relaxed her body little by little. The demonic presence felt disturbingly familiar. The same malevolent energy had hovered around her during that fateful moment—the third execution.

Flashes of the past replayed through her mind. She recalled her father’s haunted gaze during his sentencing trial, his madness. Riley’s hands trembled. 

Maybe he wasn’t crazy… Maybe he really did see it…

“Riley?” Kiki’s soft, caring voice pierced the darkness like a golden torch in a dark cave. 

The shadows recoiled, slinking back into the corners. The lights brightened. Riley blinked hard and gasped for air, choking on her breath. 

“I’m… I’m kind of freaking out,” she said, her voice raspy. “I thought the lights went out. Like, completely. Until you said my name.”

Riley turned on her side, locking eyes with Kiki. “Don’t leave me alone, alright?”

Kiki stared back, her eyebrows squeezing together. Her curious icy blue eyes scanned over Riley’s face, studying her expression and contemplating her words. 

“I won’t leave,” Kiki whispered. “I’ll stay right here until you’re okay.”

Riley nodded, trying to steady her breath. Kiki’s warmth was a tether. But even as her friend nestled beside her once more, Riley could still hear something at the back of her mind. The memory of her father’s voice gnawed at her resolve, echoing the words he’d tried so desperately to explain.

Chapter 5

Nearly a decade ago, Riley sat in the witness box, dwarfed by the scale of the courtroom. Her legs swung just above the floor, the hem of her buttoned-up shirt clenched tight between nervous fingers. She kept her eyes fixed on a distant corner, avoiding the jury’s gaze.

Across the room, her father sat beside his defense counsel, unnervingly composed. His black hair was neatly combed, his beard trimmed with precision. Hands flat on the table. The prosecutor then stepped toward a whiteboard displaying several pinned photographs. His voice cut clean through the silence.

“Mr. Driscoll,” he began, the disdain in his voice purposefully unmasked, “I’d like you to take a look at these images.”

Riley’s father offered them the briefest glance: two victims lying in ICU beds, their faces grotesquely swollen. Beneath the bruises and bandages they were nearly unrecognizable as human. He turned back to the prosecutor, expression unreadable.

The prosecutor held up a medical report. “Seventeen facial lacerations. Two grade-three concussions. Avulsed incisors. Fractured nasal and orbital bones. Skull and maxillofacial trauma. Collapsed lungs.” He looked over the page, then directly at the defendant. “That’s not just a beating, Mr. Driscoll.”

Driscoll’s voice came low, flat. “Wasn’t tryin’ to kill ’em. Just wanted to hurt ’em.”

A ripple of unease moved through the entire courtroom. 

The prosecutor raised an eyebrow, letting the weight of the statement settle over the jury. “And after all that, you left. No call to emergency services. You just walked out.”

“They were breathing,” Driscoll replied. “Figured they’d make it. And they did, so thank God I was right.”

The prosecutor let the silence stretch. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

The defense attorney rose smoothly, adjusting his tie and stepping forward with confident precision. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he addressed the jury, “let’s be clear. What my client did was wrong. No one's disputing that—not even him.”

“But our justice system doesn’t try people for being angry. We’re here to determine intent. Was this an act of attempted murder, or a violent loss of control? Because there’s a difference, and the law demands we acknowledge that difference.”

He walked slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in.

“My client turned himself in. He didn’t run. He didn’t lie. Every detail he gave law enforcement has been verified—including the fact that he handed his savings to his daughter before surrendering, something the police wouldn’t have known about without his admission. He’s not here to spin a story or dodge responsibility. He’s here to face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be.”

Riley glanced toward the jury. Some leaned forward; others scribbled notes. Most simply stared, faces unreadable.

The defense attorney continued, “So now, I ask you to hear from the man himself—no dramatics, no legal jargon. Just the truth. Mr. Driscoll, please tell the court what happened that night.”

Riley’s father gave a slow nod, turning to face the jury with the same unsettling calm. He spoke with a deep and gravelly voice. 

“Walked in on my wife with another man. Lost my temper. Beat the hell out of both of ’em. No plan—just rage.” His dark eyes scanned the courtroom. “Afterward, I knew I’d end up in jail. So I gave my money to Riley and took her to her aunt’s. I didn’t want her seein’ her mom like that. Then I turned myself in.”

The defense attorney nodded. “He made no attempt to hide. But he ensured his daughter’s safety first. That is not the behavior of a man who just attempted murder and failed.”

He turned back to the jury. “You may be wondering why he turned the assault and battery charge plea, then. He refused the plea deal because it was bloated with irrelevant charges—child endangerment, specifically. He’s not evading justice. He’s asking for justice that fits the crime. The defense rests.”

Before the defense could sit, the prosecutor stood again. “Redirect, Your Honor.”

The judge nodded. “Proceed.”

The prosecutor stepped to the front. “Mr. Driscoll, you’ve spoken at length about honesty. So let’s talk about your recorded interview. In that session, you said something… unusual. Shall I play the tape?”

Driscoll stiffened for the first time. “No need.”

“Then why don’t you tell the court, in your own words, what you saw after the attack.”

There was a pause. Driscoll’s jaw twitched. “I told the cops I was ready to leave after I knocked ’em out. But then I saw... somethin’. A shadow.”

A murmur rippled through the room.

Driscoll stared forward, voice lower now. “I looked at their bodies, and behind them—I swear to God—there was a shadow. Like somethin’ watchin’. And I felt this rage boil up in me. It was a fury I didn’t think could exist in a man’s heart. It wasn’t mine neither. That damn shadow put it in me.”

He blinked hard, his calm demeanor finally cracking. “I ain’t proud of what I did next. I kept hitting them. Over and over. I wanted to stop. I just... couldn’t. But… I did stop. Forced myself to before it got worse.”

The courtroom was silent.

The courtroom was silent, the tension palpable. Riley stared at her father, her heart racing. Her hands gripped the edges of the seat. The lights seemed to dim behind her father’s head. A subtle darkness, barely visible, reached toward her. 

The defense attorney was already rifling through his notes, face pale. “Honest to a fault…”

The prosecutor leaned in, sensing blood in the water. “One last question. Mr. Driscoll, were you or were you not conducting research into so-called ‘demonic phenomena’ in the Alaskan wilderness prior to this incident?”

Before Driscoll could answer, a sudden crash interrupted—Riley had leapt to her feet, her chair clattering behind her.

“Ms. Driscoll!” the judge barked, slamming the gavel. “Control yourself or you’ll be removed from the courtroom!”

Riley squeezed her eyes shut, clamping her hands over her ears as a torrent of grating whispers swirled within her skull, relentless and indecipherable.

“Riley!” Her father’s stern voice cut through the noise.

She opened her eyes and met his intense gaze.

“Be a good girl and sit down,” he commanded.  

Without thinking, Riley obeyed. As she took her seat again, the voices stopped. The courtroom returned to a tranquil calm.

“I… I'm sorry,” she mumbled. 

Across the room, her father’s expression had shifted, his stoic mask fractured into fear and anguish. “Your Honor, may I request that my daughter be excused. For her own well-being.”

The judge nodded solemnly. “Bailiff, escort the witness out.”

Riley’s chest tightened. She didn’t want to leave—she needed to understand what was happening. Yet, as the bailiff approached, she found herself standing and following, her steps hesitant.

“Riley,” her father called after her, his voice soft and cracked. 

She turned back, seeing something she had never seen before: a stray tear streaking down his cheek.

“Don’t let it consume you,” he pleaded.

The courtroom doors closed behind her with a metallic thud that echoed through the marble corridor. Alone, Riley slid to the floor, back against the cold wall. She fumbled for her phone, but couldn’t bring herself to call her aunt. The need for solitude overwhelmed her.

She sat there for what felt like hours before rising to her feet. Her reflection in the polished marble stared back—gray blouse, black skirt, her hair in a neat bun. A model of order and restraint. It was an infuriating contrast to the chaos within. 

With a ferocious snarl, she yanked the hair tie off her head and shook her long black hair free. She kicked off her skirt, the fabric pooling around her feet. With a violent tug, she tore open her shirt, its buttons pinging against the floor. She then shoved the bundled up clothing into a nearby trash can.

Now clad in only a white tank top and black leggings, she pushed through the courthouse doors and stepped into the biting winter air. The cold stung her skin, sharp and invigorating, but it couldn’t quell the fire burning in her chest.

With her phone clutched tightly in her shaking hand, Riley walked between the towering city buildings on her way home. From that day on, the rage burned just beneath the surface—a viscious viper coiled in her chest, ready to strike.

In the years that followed, she learned to hide it well. Yet, amid the chaos inside her, there was one thing—one person—that seemed to truly keep the darkness at bay. 

“Thank you, Kiki. For you are my light in the darkness.”

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