I’m trembling. We’re both trembling. The thing that’s been watching us is getting closer, and I don’t know what to do. My mind is racing as I try to piece together what’s happening. We need help. Now.
We decided to go stargazing earlier tonight around 10 PM. We were a little tipsy (able to drive) when I got behind the wheel.
We’ve driven down this highway many many times to go stargazing before. It’s one of those roads that starts in the middle of town, but just keeps going.
And going.
Seemingly forever in both directions.
I like to think of this road as a strand in a ball of yarn that broke free, untangling itself from the knotted lump of potholes and splotchy pavement making up the roads of Waco, Texas.
During the day, the drive is peaceful and filled with a desolate background of rolling farmland. At night, however, the stars are magnificent. After only driving a few minutes, the light pollution from town fades into non-existence. There’s even a little unmarked gravel storeyard off the side of the highway, almost as if it were made for a couple like us to stargaze in. It’s always deserted around this time of night, and we can easily slip between the massive piles of gravel, putting walls of rock between us and the highway.
The result is breathtaking. The gravel piles loom tens of feet above us, perfectly shielding us from the light and noise of the one-lane highway. It is an otherworldly experience to lie on that gravel, staring up at the stars in a drug induced haze.
Five months ago, lying there with Zaz next to me, was the moment I realized I wanted to marry this beautiful woman. We were talking about our futures after Baylor and the unease that comes with starting a new chapter in life. I realized that Zaz could be a certainty in this upcoming field of uncertainties.
Then it struck.
I mean we’d been together for over three years at this point. We graduate in May, and I already have a job lined up. She’s got med school coming, and we’re both going to be in Dallas. Everything is perfectly posed for an amazing wedding.
The gravel pit was our first kiss. It’s where we went after I asked her to be my girlfriend.
It’s where I planned on proposing tonight. Ring by spring or whatever.
We passed the barn I use as a landmark for the gravel pit, knowing it should only be a few minutes away. I pulled a weed pen from my pocket, offering it to Zaz.
“Give me that shit,” she said, grinning.
We each took a few hits in preparation for the magic of stargazing.
Somehow, we missed the entrance to the gravel pit. I’m not sure if we missed it because we were coming up the high, or if we missed it because we were somehow supposed to miss it.
I can’t shake the feeling that all of this was supposed to happen. A sick, twisted certainty that what is happening was already planned out, already carved in stone. A simple knowing that when it comes time to make a decision, it’s already been made for us.
Around 10:30 PM, I realized we must have missed the turn. Music was blasting, and Zaz was sleeping in the passenger seat. I began slowing the car down, checking my mirrors and the highway in front of us before disengaging autopilot.
I was much too high to drive, so I was letting my Tesla keep me safe.
Zaz woke with a start, probably stirred by the autopilot’s disengagement beeping. She immediately reached for the music’s volume, lowering it.
I think her exact words were, “Chris, I was having the worst nightmare of my life. I think we were both abducted and drugged in it.”
My heart skipped a beat. I glanced at her, seeing dread mar her sweet, gorgeous face.
“Oh, baby! Sweetest thing. It was just a dream,” I soothed, pausing to put my hand on her thigh, “You good?”
“Yeah, better now that I’m awake.”
I gave her thigh a squeeze, peering into the pits of her dark brown eyes.
“I think I missed the turn for the gravel pit,” I explained, twirling my finger around.
Zaz nodded, gazing through the window and into the dark mass of foliage.
Foliage? There shouldn’t be trees on this drive. Where the fuck did pine trees come from?
I spun the car around once affirming that no cars were coming in either direction. The road was ramrod straight, so I would be able to see headlights long before another car became a danger.
“Hey, Chris?” Zaz floated.
“Yeah?”
“Why are the trees so thick here? How far did you go?”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” I said, frowning, “I couldn’t have missed it by far. It’s only 10:34.”
We’ve driven past the gravel pit a few times before. It should be rolling countryside, with sparse trees, if any. I knew I didn’t make any turns off the road, as autopilot would have spazzed out on me.
We both gazed at the navigation system, trying to make sense of what it was showing. The screen glowed in the dark, showing the impossible information that we were, in fact, at the gravel pit.
The further we drove back toward where we thought the gravel pit should be, the denser the trees grew. They looked like colossal, conical fingers coming to perfect points somewhere indistinguishable against the glittering stars.
After a few minutes, Zaz gripped my arm. Her hand was shaking, white knuckles a stark contrast against my dark skin.
“I think something’s wrong,” she breathed, “I mean… the trees. They keep getting bigger. Shouldn’t we be close to Waco by now?”
“Yeah… I think so,” I murmured, holding in the panic.
With each passing mile, the trees edged taller, the trunks edged wider, like they were trying to claw their way out of the earth and into the sky.
Neither of us had our phones with us. My parents track me on Life360, so I left my phone at home. Zaz lost her phone yesterday, probably when we were bar hopping through Waco’s flourishing nightlife.
Again, the feeling that this was supposed to happen. An icy grip tightened around my heart, as if a long-dead hand had reached up from the grave to claim it. I couldn’t escape the gnawing suspicion that the position I found myself in was not my choice, but a diligent working of fate.
By 10:54 PM, the trees fully engulfed our field of view. They were no longer colossal claws jutting up near the edge of the road. Instead, they were so large, we could look up through the glass roof and see the undersides of the lowest branches gnarl together like clasped fingers, completely and totally cutting us off from the twinkling night sky.
The trunks were like guardians of some forbidden sanctuary, towering like the pillars of a forgotten temple rising up from the earth. Each trunk was straight and true, as if hewn from the very stone of the earth, and the branches above stretched out like the arms of ancient gods. They seemed to sway with an unholy energy, as if imbued with some blasphemous power. The trunks themselves were a marvel to behold, each over 500 feet in diameter, without a single blemish or mark on their impossibly smooth surface. Each one was like an exquisitely carved amber-hued marble column, stretching up into the darkness, a monument to the power and presence of fate. And yet, they were not meant to be admired or revered like the columns of some grand cathedral. No, these pillars were different. They were infernal, wicked pillars signifying a perversity of natural order.
The pine trees stood in rows, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Their trunks stood like an army of monstrous soldiers awaiting their master’s call, remaining in perfect posture until beckoned. It was as if some colossal being had planted them in perfect alignment, sculpting a grotesque garden of towering pines. The ground beneath them was barren, as if scorched by the inferno of their dark power.
We started the drive with around 60% battery. At 10:55 PM, it was nearing 35%.
It was draining fast, but maybe that was just my mind playing tricks on me.
Suddenly, we spotted a light up ahead. It was the first thing we’ve seen besides pine for a while now. Approaching it, I slowed the car to a crawl, taking in the sight. It was a streetlight, but not like any we’d seen before— it was pristine, as if it had been installed just hours ago. The industrial burst of all-too-white light it cast illuminated a strikingly large area, revealing a dirt road snaking off between the pine trunks.
I stopped a few feet from the light’s edge. Something about being inside the pool of light was unnervingly inviting.
We waited a few seconds, silently pondering what it meant.
That’s when I saw it.
Naked, but far enough out of the light to hide its fine features.
It was looking directly at us. That much was clear.
I gawked.
I pointed.
Zaz couldn’t see it.
I floored it.
Zaz gripped the armrest, shouting something I couldn’t hear over my racing thoughts.
The human, the thing, didn’t move as we sped past, only turning its head to watch.
I drove on, feeling my heart rate peak. The highway began twisting and turning, no longer the straight arrow it was before.
At 11:03 PM, I saw it again. It was waiting for us around a turn, barely staying out of the light cast by my headlights. I shrieked, accelerating full force.
At 11:26 PM, we reached the streetlight, again. The impossibleness of the situation spiraled my mind into disarray.
“What the fuck,” Zaz choked out, beginning to sob.
The thing was still there, but not in the same spot. This time it was inches from the pool of light, opposite of the dirt road. It was so close to the light, almost begging to be revealed in revolting glory.
“Do you not see that person?” I whispered, willing my voice to not crack.
“Chris, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re scaring me and I want you to stop.”
“Zaz, how am I the one who’s scaring you? Where the fuck are we?” I paused, spreading my arms out and pointing at the ghastly trunks around us, “This is what’s scaring ME.”
Before the words left my throat, the thing moved.
Its skeletal arm rose into the streetlight, revealing a hand that seemed almost spectral in the harsh glow. The fingers stretched out, pointing in our direction with an eerie stillness that suggested something beyond human physiology. Its wither-like limb seemed to blur the lines between life and death, flesh and bone. I was frozen in place, trapped by the stillness of this otherworldly creature.
Then it pointed down the dirt road, as if beckoning us to plunge into the abyss.
Zaz calmly suggested, “I think we should go down the dirt road.”
“NO!” I screamed back.
She jumped a bit, not used to me raising my voice like that.
“What the fuck,” she muttered, brow furrling.
“You still can’t see it?” I said, pointing at it. It still had its arm outstretched, reaching down the dirt road in gut-wrenching stillness.
Every inch of my inside was screaming, begging, for me not to go down the road and do what the thing wants.
I took a breath.
I peered at the ghastly arm outstretched in the streetlight.
I swallowed.
I decided to trust my girlfriend.
The possibility of this humanoid creature being a hallucination seemed more plausible than its impossible existence.
That feeling sprung into the pit of my stomach again. The moment I turned the car into the dirt road, it felt like we were supposed to go down the road. Every breath I drew came in like a whispered curse, a preordained, etched riddle in the very fabric of the universe. The future was a foregone conclusion, a dance to the tune of some malevolent puppet-master, and I am just a marionette, helpless to resist the pull of fate.
The thing watched us go.
The dirt road twisted and turned, disappearing between the towering trunks of the forest. My headlights strained to penetrate the inky darkness, casting only a weak beam on the uneven ground. It was as if the branches and needle-leaves were alive, sucking out any source of light that dared to intrude upon their domain. The canopy of impeccable branches overhead formed a dense, impenetrable barrier, cutting us off from the stars and any hope of guidance. Each bend in the path brought us further from the main road and deeper into the heart of the forest, deeper to where the thing wanted us to go.
As we rounded a bend, the headlights caught something on the edge of the road. My heart jumped to my throat as I realized it was the humanoid thing again, standing there motionlessly as if waiting for us. It was comfortable in the shadows, a mere outline of a figure, just close enough to the beam of light to make out its shape but not close enough to reveal its features. The darkness seemed to cling to it, as if it were an extension of the creature itself.
I took a sharp breath in, but said nothing. I had already upset Zaz enough.
A few minutes later, we reached another pristine streetlight. Three teenagers stood in the incandescent glow, chattering amongst themselves in a playful fashion. They were oblivious to our approach, as if they were the only souls in existence.
I rolled down my window.
Their heads snapped toward us in perfect unison.
One of them stiffly stepped forward, smiling generously. He looked to be about 15 years old, with bleach-blonde hair and manicured teeth. His clothing was plain, as was his companion’s— solid black hoodies and jeans.
“Excuse me, do you know where we are?” I asked.
He held eye contact for a palpable second too long, as if looking through me and into the forest behind.
“Hello, sir, we’re [his mouth moved, but no sound came out].”
“I’m sorry, where did you say we are?”
Again, his mouth moved and no sound came out. He finished with a smile. All his buddies were still staring at us intently with dumb smiles on their faces.
I gave Zaz a sideways glance, and she shrugged.
“Ah…” I started, “Well, I think we’re a bit lost. How do we get back to Waco?”
The air got colder. His smile died. A breeze blew through the trees, creaking and crackling through the branches.
“You want to get out?” he questioned, his cheerful tone beginning to lose its edge.
“Uhh… yeah.”
“Okay. Then keep driving that way for 2 miles,” he responded, pointing the way we were heading, “Then turn left at the streetlight. Waco is about 10 miles from there.”
“Thank you, “ I said.
“You really need to get out.”
“What?” I stammered.
“Get out,” he said, with more force.
His buddies nodded with him.
“You want out, so get out.”
I rolled up the window and drove the direction he indicated.
The car was at 12% when we made it to the streetlight.
We were back on the highway, impossibly under the same light where I very first saw the humanoid thing.
It was still there, watching us from beyond the light. It shook its head and pointed back down the dirt road with the same posture as before.
I didn’t say a word to Zaz. She was crying again.
I turned left. I drove 60 MPH for ten minutes.
No Waco.
The thing was there at every other curve, watching.
At 12:04 AM, the trees on the right gave away to a massive chain link fence, rising four or five stories tall. Beyond the fence, a cliff loomed. The jagged edges of the rock face rose near the height of the fence, as if straining to break free and unleash their fury upon the world below. The fence seemed to be holding the cliff back, like a desperate attempt to contain the untamed fury of the earth itself.
At 12:09 AM, a third pristine streetlight appeared. The teenagers were under it, along with the thing that Zaz couldn’t see still slinking in the shadows.
The streetlight illuminated the ground, showing a trail leading to the fence. I slowed down to a roll, creeping closer to the teenagers.
Again, they didn’t perceive us until I rolled down the window.
Again, their heads snapped towards the car in freakish unison.
“Hey, sorry to bother y’all again, but we still haven’t found Waco.”
This time, they weren’t smiling. The one from last time raised a middle finger.
They turned to the fence, walking down the trail. The one from last time produced a key card from his pocket, pressing it on some sort of reader.
The fence began to move, sliding against the cliff’s face. It was a titanic version of those rolling fence gates. I could see wheels and a track at the bottom of this portion of the fence, clearly having been operated regularly.
The teenagers began to climb.
Not just climb, but scramble. They launched themselves upward like arachnids in a frenzied dance. I don’t know how to describe the agility they exhibited. They sped up the cliff face, bending at impossible angles, joints popping with each unnerving maneuver.
It was as if their bodies had become unhinged, able to contort and flex in ways that human physiology could not allow. They reached the top within seconds, vanishing over the crest of the cliff.
The gate slid to a close behind them, leaving us with the thing.
I’m typing this all into my Tesla touchscreen. How do we even have an internet connection?
My car is at 3%.
Zaz hasn’t stopped crying.
I put the car in park.
The headlights went out.
I turned off the cabin lights to save battery.
The thing vanished into the trees opposite of the fence.
A few minutes ago, it reappeared.
It’s edging closer.
Now it’s only a few feet from Zaz’s window.
She still can’t see it.
I can almost make out its face.
What the fuck should I do?
Where are we?