They warned that I would find no peace. And yes, returning to the woods was a daunting prospect. But I also knew that if I didn’t take action, I’d surely rot and wither into the ground. So something is to be said about moving on, but we must first face what is holding us back. It’s just I’d never imagined having found what I did.
If not my future self, I warn you that no true answer lies waiting for those who read ahead. There is no concrete step-by-step walkthrough of what happened, nor is there a guide to aid us through the recovery. I think the world has a way of granting us balance, but I’ll get into that later.
Does that sound too journalistic? Perhaps. Note to self-edit later for… expression?
But is that not what this is meant to be? To express myself and work through what I’ve seen? What I think I’ve seen? C’mon… Focus.
It was a bleak autumn’s day when I went out to look for her. When she went missing, it had been the height of a blistering summer. I remember how the seasons would only enhance her sun-kissed face. It’s funny, the little things that we remember.
I parked my car and looked towards the woods. I had nearly parked in the same spot and would have done so again had it not been for the massive muddy puddle that had taken my place. I hesitated at the foot of the trail, for these woods were the prison behind my eyes. I watched as her memory danced around me.
“C’mon, Seb! We don’t have all day!” she shouted playfully as she pulled her bulky backpack from the back seat and slammed the car door shut.
“Don’t have all… Anoush, we left early for this!” I shouted indignantly, taking care not to damage her gear as I slammed the trunk of my sedan.
She walked back towards me with a smile that’d stop the world. “I know… I’m… I’m sorry. I’m just so excited! Thank you for coming with me!”
I felt my face loosen into a grin. I couldn’t stay mad at her for longer than a minute. “Hey, I’m happy to help.”
I let out a sigh. I was knackered, as my shift the night before had dragged on later than I expected. However, I tried my best not to let a lack of sleep ruin my mood. She’d worked very hard on this project, after all.
I walked towards her, shouldering a duffel bag packed to the brim. She smiled again at me, wonder bright in her eyes. Who’d of thought we’d be investigating something so morbid?
“Thank you for carrying the gear. I want to dash around and get an idea of the environment before we start recording!” she chirped.
I adjusted the strap on my shoulder and pretended to have found relief. At that moment, a white pick-up truck with a green stripe passed by and parked a few spaces away from my own. As she double-checked her backpack, I turned and waved to the park ranger as he got out of his seat. He raised a hand in a friendly nature before popping down onto his tailgate to change his shoes.
I turned back to face Anoush. “Couldn’t you have… I don’t know. Phones are pretty impressive nowadays, Anne. I heard that the camera on the new-”
“It’s not the same,” she interrupted. “You’ve seen what they use on TV shows now, and besides… If I want to gather a following, we’ve got to use the right gear, right?” she reasoned while excitedly waving her hands through the air as if addressing her adoring crowd.
“Great day for a hike, isn’t it, folks?”
Anoush and I turned and found that the park ranger had wandered over. His uniform was ironed to such perfection that the edges of the fabric seemed sharp. His pristine grey shirt reflected the blazing sun above, and his khaki green cargo pants were held up with a belt ladened with gadgets and tools. His boots looked freshly polished.
Anoush beamed. “Yes, it is! We’re going to be working on a documentary today!”
The ranger smiled kindly, like an old grandpa who finally got to see his grandkids. He put his hands on his knees to be at Anne’s level and asked: “Oh really! Fantastic. What’re we studying today, young lady?”
“The history behind the Wolves of Teton Forest, sir! It’s part of a series that my brother and I-” but she trailed off, for the man had stood back up and left his kindly smile behind.
He turned to me with an eyebrow raised. His expression was grim. “Do you think this young woman should be interested in these things, son?”
I shrugged. “Anoush is in her final year of high school and is a blossoming reporter in the making. Trust me; she can handle these things better than I can.”
The ranger shook his head slightly before turning back to my sister.
“Alright, young lady. Who am I to stunt a future reporter?” He said with a facsimile of a smile.
“The trails here are winding,” he continued after a moment, having recovered from the mention of the Wolves. “and it’s awful easy to get lost. So if you need anything, look for someone with this, alright?” He pointed to the PARK WARDEN badge on his uniform.
“Thank you!” Anoush chirped before saying her quick farewell and bolting toward the trailhead.
After a moment, the ranger turned to face me with a face of sad understanding. “You just keep a close eye on her, alright, son?”
I nodded. “Always have, sir.”
When I caught up to Anoush, she was waiting for me a few paces up the trail, having stopped to read a sign with information about how we could reach the cabin. Then, finally, she turned to me, face glowing with excitement.
“Did you see that?” she chirped. “Park Warden! Maybe he was around at the time it happened! Do you think he’d give me an interview? Oh, I hope so!”
“I don’t know, Anne. His face went all sour as soon as you mentioned it. It might be best to leave the man to do his job.” I suggested thoughtfully.
She pouted but then brightened up and made her way up the trail. “I guess, but he didn’t have to call me a ‘little girl, now?”
I shrugged and followed behind her. The shade cast from branches and leaves above immediately relieved my neck and back. I trudged a few paces behind, but she practically flew between the trees like some sort of fairy. She was an artist obsessed with her next big project.
We walked for half an hour before resting on a fallen log at the side of the trail. The tree’s bark had been stripped off and replaced with dozens of initials, hearts, and signatures etched into the pale wood. She plopped down, swung her backpack from her shoulder, and offered me one of the two water bottles that had been hitched to its sides.
I gently placed the duffle bag down at our feet and sat beside her. I could hear the heat buzzing and see the ground shimmering in the distance. I wiped my forehead and found she had pulled out a worn notebook from her backpack. She studied it with great concentration.
“Last minute revising?” I asked plainly, half intending to prolong this break for as long as possible.
“Yes,” she said simply without raising her head. “I want to ensure I have a good idea of what we’re covering today.”
I nodded, ultimately deciding to allow her to study in peace—a few moments passed.
“Who’d have thought such a horrible thing would have happened in such a beautiful place,” she said simply, without having recovered her nose from her pages of notes.
I bowed my head, quietly disturbed by the subject of today’s investigation.
“Is there anywhere for such a tragedy to take place?” I asked.
She looked up at me with a thoughtful expression; her hazelnut eyes narrowed with focus. She then scanned the pristine woodland around us.
“No, I suppose not.” She said with a sigh. “But that’s just where evil likes to hide, in a place you’d least expect it,” and she looked off into the distance.
Silence sat between us for a few moments. I stared ahead into the trees, whereas she returned to her notes. A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about the tragedy that had occurred here all those years ago. The clap of her book snapping shut brought me back to earth from my thoughts.
I was startled when I caught her gaze. Her face was set in a steely frown, her eyes ablaze with a raging determination far beyond her years. I blinked expectantly at her, completely taken aback by her polar shift of disposition.
“We’ve got to do right by them, Seb.” She demanded before hurriedly collecting her notes and popping off the log without another word. I watched her as she strode away up the trail, deeper into the woods, stalking her purpose with the purposeful stride of a hunter.
I looked up the path and watched her memory disappear amongst the foliage. I felt the smooth surface of the fallen tree as I rested my weary legs upon it. I hadn’t expected the physical effects of this place on my body. Though I wasn’t hauling a heavy duffle bag with supplies, I was winded. The sins crawling on my back were more solemn than anything else I’d ever carried.
I closed my eyes and listened to the world around me. From above was the frequent bickering of crows. Behind me, I heard a skittering squirrel scurry up and down trees, preparing for the harsh winter ahead. A woodpecker drilled hungrily in the distance. The sounds and trials of man we lost here and the natural world continued blissful and oblivious.
A persistent odor of decaying leaves and damp soil covered the area like a thick blanket. The period of vibrant autumnal colors had passed, and we were left with the messy, dreary aftermath of the exhaustive process necessary to shift seasons. I considered how many seasons had passed since I lost her. I felt my eyes sting as pain rioted behind them with an insatiable appetite for release.
I looked up, desperate for relief from the woods of penance, but found that the grey, perpetual cloud cover further trapped my emotions.
I pushed myself onward and marched up the trail. The incline was steep, but I couldn’t rest until I had more answers. Guilt nipped at my ankles; I did not stop again. When I reached the clearing, I suddenly found I couldn’t take another step. I shot out a hand and caught myself on a tree to prevent crashing to the ground. I doubled over to catch my breath, but when I looked up, it was snatched away swiftly once more.
At the far end of the clearing stood Anoush, who turned back to face my direction and waved me over.
It had happened so fast.
“We’re nearly there!” Anoush said, beaming with encouragement. She had rushed ahead and burst from the treeline towards a clearing. We had been hiking for an hour and had reached the crest of the hill. The natural clearing offered us a fantastic view of the woods around us, rewarding our efforts.
“Careful around the cliff, Anne!” I scolded.
When she turned to face me, her childish grin cut through her face of steely determination, which she had retained for the entirety of the hike. She took a few more paces towards the ledge and pointed a finger over the cliff and the woods below.
“The cabin is just over there! We’re so cl-“ she said before the ground beneath her crumbled and she dropped out of sight.
“Anoush!” I bellowed and dashed towards the ledge. The world moved as if each second was worth a hundred hours. I fought against time and physical limitations and threw myself toward her.
I found myself at the ledge and noted how it had eroded further into the clearing. Far below me were a gushing river and an ocean of trees. I looked over to where Anoush had pointed before she had vanished from view- disappeared from my life. I stood in that clearing for a long time.
I stumbled down a game trail at the side of the cliff and made my way to the river. The ground was slick and nearly sent me flying into the water more than once. I took the last few leaps down the trail and orientated myself with my surroundings. I pulled out my compass and looked past the river and into the surrounding woods.
The ranger’s outfit was crisp, as if a military official had ironed it. His tired grey eyes bore into my own, almost as if he’d find my little sister inside my head.
“So she fell here then, son?” he asked. His voice was gruff, and his tone sharp.
“Y-yes Mr. Stevenson,” I stammered. I blinked and caught his sharp grey eyes again.
“And you didn’t see her washed away or pull herself across to the other side?” he continued, placing his hand on my shoulder.
“No, sir, I didn’t. By the time I got to the ledge of the cliff up there, I couldn’t see her. So I called you as I…I ran down the path….” I explained, but I found it hard to continue. My throat was a wet paper straw that had begun to cave.
After a gentle pat, he pulled his hand away; then, he turned from me to address his colleagues and the dozen or so volunteers. He sent a few downriver, a few across, and two smaller parties in other directions. They strode away quickly, shouting her name. Then, finally, he turned to face me once again.
“We’ll find her, Sebastian,” he promised.
Water gushed under the bridge as I crossed its wooden structure. The wood below me groaned and creaked with a superficial threat, daring me to turn back. To turn away when I still had the chance. Yet I persevered, determined to be the brave man I should have been the day I lost her. I found my legs were weak when I stood on the far side of the river. I had never been this far.
I had expected to feel like I had crossed over some barrier. I had expected it to be like removing a foggy pair of glasses. I had expected this to change my perception of the world around me. To allow me to see beyond the fog of grief and shame.
I had paused, waiting for this moment I had longed for since that day. I was waiting for some kind of change, a sorely needed sense of relief. But it never came; it was too slow to respond, just as I had been when Anoush fell away off the cliff.
I spun on my heel with hands in the air and let out a pained howl. Then I froze, for my eyes caught a glimmering figure standing behind me on the edge of the hill. I blinked reflexively, for the light was bright like the sun. I turned, rubbed my eyes, and I found that the figure had gone once my vision returned.
My trembling legs grew weak, and I fell to my knees. I digested what I thought I had just seen. The figure on the hill had been looking down at me. Through me. Deeper into the woods behind me. I thought it had been crouching, but I was sure it stood on four legs, like a large dog—a wolf.
Like the Wolves of Teton forest.
A chill ran down my spine. I felt like I had just been doused with a torrent of frigid water. I clutched at my chest and tried to catch the breath that I’d just lost. After a few moments, I was able to slow my breathing. I released a handful of grass I wasn’t aware I had latched on to and stood up, brushing the damp soil off my hands on my pants.
The woods were quieter down here as the sound of the river washed away the cries of crows and the skittering of squirrels. I looked into the unexplored woods behind me and took another deep breath. Ahead, a trail waited for me, framed by two ghostly pale birch trees on either side. I took a quick swig of water, steeled my nerves, and strode beneath their reaching branches with the determination of a lost soul.
Only an hour or two had passed before I finally arrived at the cabin. It was made of dark wood, and the roof had caved in on the far right corner. It was once an old trapping cabin. A shadow of its former self now served as a point of interest for those who hiked through here.
Embedded in the muddy soil at my feet was a faded yellow strand of police tape.
As I climbed the three wooden steps to the door, the aged wood groaned in protest. I took a moment to relax my shoulders, which had been tight and bound by my anxiety. Then, I ran a hand down the door, which seemed innocent enough. However, locals like myself and Anoush knew the heinous, cruel acts, which had been rumored to have been locked away.
No creak hinted to the woods of my intrusion as I pulled the door open and made my way inside. A musky, damp smell wafted over me immediately. I clicked on my flashlight and took in my surroundings.
The old trapping cabin boasted only one room. In the far right corner, a rusted log burner peaked out from a pile of decaying rubble and was slightly illuminated by the cloudy day above. To my immediate right was a metal structure for a single-sized cot, above which was a shelf that housed half a dozen soggy books. To my left sprawled a felled table and two prone chairs. One of the chairs was missing a leg, seemingly snapped off.
There was an external counter and cupboards in the far left corner, though there was nothing of interest to note. It had been a long time since anything edible had been stored inside. Despite this, miscellaneous garbage articles littered the floor or even hung off the open cupboard doors. It seemed everything about this structure was in disarray, an example of chaos.
Chaos, I had thought, until my eyes locked onto what was directly in front of me: a desk.
The chair had been neatly tucked away. I approached cautiously, for I did not entirely trust the integrity of the floorboards below. They creaked beneath my weight for the few paces it took to reach the desk. It had two sets of drawers at either side; the two on the right were open to some degree and empty. Both on the left were closed, each secured with a small, shiny lock.
My eyes glanced over the top of the desk, which was surprisingly tidy, unlike the rest of the cabin. A gas lantern perched on one side, and a small bundle of newspapers was left askew. They had yellowed with age.
However, what caught my eye was a familiar little notebook in the center of the desk.
I sat on the edge of her bed as she got up from her chair and faced her corkboard. She removed a tack from her lips and pinned an old news article clipping, pausing to tether a thin line of red string from the new tack to one of the many others on the wall.
My eyebrow raised. “Anne, you look crazy with this in your room. I’m glad there isn’t a tinfoil hat laying around…yet.”
She shrugged, taking a step back to admire her collage of newspaper clippings, pictures, and sketches. “I just like the aesthetic,” she said simply. “Makes me look like I know what I’m doing.”
“What, are you saying you don’t? You’ve been studying this for weeks; have you been procrastinating?”
She turned to me with an indignant chuckle. “Hey, watch it. I can’t see you doing anything constructive!”
I raised my hands in defense. “I am here to offer constructive criticism, aren’t I?”
We laughed, then, after a moment, she reached to her desk and picked up a small, worn notebook. She held it tenderly before extending it out for me to read.
“The wall is just flavour for my social media presence,” she said, using her thumb to point behind her. “Everything that matters is in that little guy. So go on, have a look through!”
I opened the book and found it was nearly packed tight from start to finish with hand-written notes, neatly folded maps, and sketches. The back had a small pocket filled with tightly folded newspaper clippings. I flipped through to the neatest and more intelligible page and began to read.
WOLVES OF TETON FOREST
Pg. 42 Local legend for Emberbrook Country
In 1996, two young girls (neighbors) were last seen playing in the Teton Woods. They had been left unsupervised as their respective homes backed into the forest. When they did not return in time for dinner, their parents contacted a park ranger, a family friend and went out looking for them.
The alarm was raised when they discovered one of the girl’s watches. It was a wind-up Minnie Mouse watch and had stopped not long after they were recorded to have entered the woods. Despite the community and police alike, the two girls were never found. A few locals were interrogated: a relative of one of the girls and the ranger called, but no evidence of foul play had been discovered.
However, since the two girls went missing, many unusual calls have been made concerning the woods. Occasionally, lights from inside the Old Trapper’s Cabin (which had been thoroughly investigated as a potential crime scene) have been reported flickering from the inside. Furthermore, some have reported having heard the voices of young girls trapped within, but they find nothing but a crumbling shack when they approach and look around.
The most notable reports, though, are the Wolves of Teton woods. Numerous locals have reported sightings of a single or a pair of giant wolves dashing through the trees like phantoms. Unfortunately, they have not been captured on film, nor have they been reported to make a sound as they run through the undergrowth. Yet, interestingly, many have claimed these two ghostly figures have guided them out of the winding trails in Teton Woods.
There are no wolves or coyotes in Teton Woods, nor in the immediate area. (See page 13)
I let out a deep breath. “I guess this is why we weren’t allowed there as kids, huh?”
She nodded, and I handed back her notebook. She replaced the elasticated band around it and returned it to her desk.
After a moment, she sat down in the swivel chair opposite me and placed her hands on her lap.
“I want to go there to film a documentary,” she said. “Will you help me?”
I tilted my head to one side. “Do I have a choice?” I asked dryly.
“Not really,” she smirked.
My shaking hand reached out toward Anoush’s book and touched it. I never hoped to find anything, but this was too much. My head swam with a million questions and was tossed about in the storm in my mind.
I pulled out the chair and fell into it without grace. I placed the book in my lap, though it had grown blurry as my eyes burned with emotion. I held it with both hands and felt along the book’s spine. Had she been here? How did they miss this when they searched the place?
I absent-mindedly removed the band of the notebook. When it popped off, I felt the moisture escape from the sudden snap of movement. I took a deep breath before I delicately peeled its damp pages open. I saw a smudged 42 in the corner. I had expected to see her notes washed away from the elements and the passage of time, but my eyes grew wide when I read something completely unexpected.
Written repeatedly down the page was a single sentence.
‘It was him.’
I shook my head and peeled back a page, only to find the exact same thing. Then, as I carefully peeled through each page of the book, I found more of the same- coming to realize that every single page held the exact same message, written repeatedly.
‘It was him.’
I tilted my head upward as if expecting to find an explanation written on the dripping ceiling. Instead, I gently closed the book, turned to my side, and found a pair of eyes watching me from beyond the door.
A ghostly white wolf was standing in the open doorway.
I jumped from my seat, startled, but held onto the notebook and clutched it to my chest. The ghost spun on its tail and dashed out into the woods. Without thinking, I chased after it.
Muddy ground squished and squelched as I leaped from the cabin and spun around, looking for the wolf. There it was, waiting for me at the head of a trail at the side of the place. When we met eyes, it turned once more and raced away from me. With an indescribable surge of energy, I ran after it.
Its tail bobbed up and down as it flew through the wood a few feet above the ground. Its form seemed to stretch and wrap around the trees like smoke. My legs, which had felt weak since I had entered the woods, gained incredible newfound strength. I was the sun chasing the moon without a thought of stopping.
I dashed through trail after trail behind the ghost. It turned its head back a few times to check if I had fallen behind. I didn’t falter when it broke from the beaten path, and I had to leap through small streams or slide down steep embankments. My arms grew littered with scrapes and scratches- but I persevered. We ran faster and faster until I reached a small clearing and lost sight of the wolf.
I spun around on the spot, eyes scanning for the glimmering figure of the ghost. After a moment, I caught its glow between the trees. It waited on an opposite hill from where it had led me. I took a few steps towards it but reached a drop that opened to a significant dip in the forest floor, separating the two hills. Below, I saw a white truck parked to the side of a rough trail. My eyes shifted when I caught the shine of two boots, and a man appeared from the cover of pine trees off the path. He strode towards the vehicle with a muddy shovel.
I looked back at the wolf and fell to my knees as I saw it fade away. It didn’t back into the shadows cast by the trees but instead fell dimmer and dimmer like an old light with a dying battery. I peeled the book open once more. I read the one line that had possessed the notebook aloud with my tight throat.
“It was him.”
I looked up and was surprised to see the fading ghost of the wolf sitting in front of me. I closed the book and reached out a hand to touch it. It bent down its shimmering head but faded from existence before I had reached it.
Initially, the police were reluctant to reopen the case. However, they quickly caved with sympathy when my desperate hysteria had won them over, and the next day I met them at the head of the trail. They followed me while kindly making small talk until we reached where I had seen the man emerge from the woods.
They then went ahead, and I followed a few paces behind them. After a few minutes of trudging through the undergrowth, one put up his hand to stop us. He waved his colleague over and pointed down behind a bush. A beat passed as they stared open-mouthed at the ground before looking at each other, with the colour drained from their faces.
Someone had draped a blanket over me, though I wasn’t sure when or by whom. I had been at the station for a few hours before the Detective I recognized from two years ago returned. She wiped her muddy shoes on the mat at the door and headed toward me. She sat down in the chair next to mine and held her head in her hands.
“Sebastian, I’m so sorry.”
After a moment, she continued. “What a horrible place for such evil,”
“It’s just where it likes to hide, I think,” I said quietly.
I looked up from the floor to her, and we caught sight of each other. Her dark blue eyes had been framed with raw emotion. She took a moment to compose herself, then took my hand. They were still cold from having been outside. I squeezed back anyway.
“We can put the three of them to peace, now.” She said softly. “It’s finally over.”
“Why did he go back?” I asked, my voice raw and broken.
She stared at the wall opposite us for a long moment before reaching into her deep coat pocket and pulling out an evidence bag. Inside I saw the shape of an ordinary, worn notebook.
I instinctively reached for my own breast coat pocket, where I had placed Anoush’s book. My hand pushed down against the fabric of my coat- but I only felt the shape of my body. The book was gone.
“He returned to bury this last piece of evidence. Do you recognize it?” she said softly.
I gawked at her and to the book concealed within the plastic.
“Y-es, but…” I started, but I felt I was beginning to lose more than just my words. I clenched my jaw and rubbed at my temples. “That was hers, yes.”
She looked at me, then returned it to the protection of her deep coat pocket with a soft nod. She retook my hand, and we caught eyes once more. I could tell she had a question to ask but was aware of the thin ice we sat on. After a few moments of considering how to word it, she asked a question as delicately as she could.
“How did you know to go out that day? How did you know to be there at that time?”
I took my hands from hers and held them between my legs. I stared at the wall opposite us, which she copied as if she thought I was seeing the truth laid out on a poster.
“Tell me, Detective. Have you ever seen a wolf with freckles?”