A moment of silence in which I can hear his heavy sigh, almost sounding worried. It’s so far unlike his usual stance that it gives me pause.
“T-there’s something wedged into your door. An envelope of some kind.”
Thoughts instantly start racing in my mind, wondering what it could be.
“It’s wrapped in silk,” he finishes.
I nearly drop my phone to the snowy ground, rememberingthe gift I received yesterday. One I never told him about.
“With the number ‘5’ on it. What is this, Isolde?” he asks.
“I truly don’t know,” I whisper. “I’ll be there as soon as I finish my run.”
Movement in my peripheral view catches my sight, and a gasp escapes me, which Casper seems to catch onto.
“What is it, Isa?”
I don’t answer, merely lean closer to catch a better sight of what’s there. When I can’t get a proper look, I take a few steps forward. My heart is a wild drumbeat within my chest, a bird fluttering frantically in desperate need to get free. Panic in its natural habitat.
“Wait a sec,” I murmur into the phone, ignoring Casper.
Something red litters the white, grey snow, like droplets leading into a track. I follow it, tentatively, silent as a mouse while looking around.
That feeling of being watched doesn’t disappear, and I don’t know what to make of it.
Then, I see a shoe draped in blood. Like an unstitched wound, it leads up to a foot that’s separated from the rest of the body.
A startled scream leaves my lips, my breath hitching.
What the fuck is going on?
The scream echoes through the woods in a symphony that showcases my horror, echoing through the trees. I stumble back, nearly falling into the snow.
“Isa?! Isolde!” Casper’s voice shouts through the phone. “What’s going on?”
If I didn’t know better, I would think he was worried about me—he never truly cared for me. Not really.
“Isolde, what’s going on?”
Drawing back, my eyes are glued to the bloodstained snow. Horror-filled memories pile up in my mind, and I fight to breathe properly, feeling how fucking impossible it is.
My parents’ lifeless bodies right before my eyes.
That feminine giggle.
That dark, masculine chuckle.
“Y-you need to get here,” I whisper into the voice, that feeling of being watched returning tenfold. I look over my shoulder, not seeing anything. But I know something is there. I just don’t know what. “T-there’s a body.”
“What?” When I don’t give him any more of an explanation, he talks again. “Okay, I will be there.”
“And Casper? Bring the envelope.”
Something is going on. My entire body is trembling as I try to make sense of the scene before me: the blood and the severed foot, the trail of crimson leading deeper into the woods, until the body is finally visible, hiding underneath the foliage.
What’s worse? The number ‘5’is drawn into the snow.
My stomach tightens as I scan the woods, every muscle in my body on high alert as I await Casper. I can feel the lingering sensation prickling my nerves, a cold shiver crawling over my skin until the hair on my arms stands with unease.
