Chapter 6 – What Watches in the Woods

Dexter had never truly understood the phrase "frozen with fear" until this moment.He was crouched behind a fallen log, barely breathing, watching two impossible things simultaneously: five armed hunters setting up equipment in the clearing, completely unaware that less than thirty yards away, something massive was watching them from the shadows.The Shadow hadn't moved. Not an inch. It stood between two ancient oaks, its form partially obscured by branches and dappled sunlight, but Dexter could make out its basic shape. Quadrupedal, but wrong. The proportions were off—legs too long, shoulders too high, head positioned at an angle that didn't match any animal he'd ever studied.And it was staring at the hunters with an intensity that made Dexter's skin crawl.Isabel was pressed against the tree next to him, camera in hand but not raising it. Smart. Any sound, any movement, could draw attention. Martin and Jesse were somewhere to their left, hopefully staying equally still.One of the hunters—a younger man with a scope-mounted rifle—swept his gaze across the tree line. For one heart-stopping second, his eyes passed right over where the Shadow stood.He saw nothing.How? Dexter thought frantically. It's right there. How can he not see it?But the hunter moved on, focusing instead on mounting a trail camera to a tree trunk.The leader of the group—the bearded man they'd seen first—knelt beside the stone circle, examining it with professional interest. "Definitely not random. Look at the spacing. Geometric.""You think the animal did this?" another hunter asked skeptically."I think we're not dealing with an ordinary animal." The leader stood, brushing dirt from his knees. "Whatever's out here is smart. Real smart. Which means it's also dangerous.""All the more reason to find it before someone gets hurt," the younger hunter said."Before some civilian gets hurt, you mean." The leader smiled grimly. "We find it, we document it, and then we take it down clean. One shot. The university can study the carcass all they want."Dexter felt Isabel tense beside him. He wanted to shout, to reveal themselves, to do something. But what could four unarmed civilians do against five men with rifles?The Shadow made the decision for them.It moved.Not away. Toward.It stepped out of the shadows with deliberate slowness, and suddenly it was fully visible in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. Dexter's mind struggled to process what he was seeing.It was easily eight feet tall at the shoulder when it stood on all fours. Its body was covered in dark fur—not quite black, more like a deep charcoal that seemed to absorb light. The musculature was wrong, too defined, too powerful. Its head was vaguely canine but elongated, almost crocodilian. And its eyes—Its eyes were the worst part.They weren't glowing now. In the daylight, they were just eyes. But they were positioned too far forward, too human-like in their placement. Predator's eyes. And they were looking directly at the hunters with unmistakable intelligence.The leader saw it first.He went rigid, his hand moving slowly to his rifle. "Nobody move," he said quietly. "Nobody make a sound."But one of the other hunters—a heavyset man with a camera—panicked. He raised his camera and the flash went off.The Shadow's reaction was immediate and terrifying.It opened its mouth—too wide, unhinging like a snake—and released the same harmonic howl they'd heard yesterday. But up close, it was different. Worse. The sound seemed to bypass Dexter's ears entirely and vibrate directly in his skull, in his teeth, in his bones. It felt like his entire body was resonating at a frequency that shouldn't exist.The hunters scattered.Two of them ran. One dropped his rifle and stumbled backward. The leader and the young hunter stood their ground, raising their weapons."Don't shoot!" Dexter heard himself yelling, stumbling out of his hiding place. "Don't shoot it!"Everything happened at once.The leader turned, surprised. "What the—who are you?"The Shadow moved impossibly fast, covering twenty feet in a single bound. But it didn't attack. Instead, it positioned itself between Dexter and the hunters, low to the ground, head swiveling to track everyone simultaneously.Protecting him? Or trapping him?"Back away slowly," the leader said, his rifle still raised but his hands shaking. "All of you. Nice and easy.""You don't understand," Dexter said, his voice cracking. "It's not aggressive. It's just—"The Shadow turned its head and looked at him.Really looked at him.For a moment, Dexter forgot how to breathe. Those eyes—there was something behind them. Not just animal instinct. Not just predatory calculation. Something more. Recognition? Curiosity?Judgment?Then Isabel was there, grabbing his arm. "Dexter, we need to go. Now."The Shadow swung its attention to her, and she froze mid-step."Don't run," Martin's voice came from somewhere to the left, shaky but trying to stay calm. "Running triggers chase instinct. Just... just back away. Slowly."The creature's head tilted, as if considering this advice.Then it did something that would haunt Dexter's dreams for weeks to come.It smiled.Not a human smile—the anatomy was all wrong for that. But its lips pulled back, revealing rows of teeth that were too many and too sharp, and the expression was unmistakably one of amusement. Like it found their fear entertaining.Or like it was trying to mimic something it had seen humans do.Dexter couldn't decide which interpretation was more horrifying."What the fuck," one of the hunters whispered.The Shadow lowered its head, almost like a bow. Then it turned and moved back into the forest—not running, just walking, taking its time. Within seconds, it had vanished into the undergrowth as if it had never been there at all.Nobody moved for a long moment.Finally, the leader lowered his rifle. He looked at Dexter with a mixture of anger and fear. "Who the hell are you people?""Local researchers," Isabel said quickly, finding her voice. "We've been tracking the creature. It's not dangerous if you don't threaten it.""Not dangerous?" The heavyset hunter with the camera emerged from behind a tree, his face pale. "Did you see the size of that thing? Did you see its teeth?""It had multiple opportunities to attack and didn't," Martin pointed out, also emerging from hiding. Jesse appeared a moment later, tablet clutched to his chest like a security blanket.The leader studied them. "You're the cryptid people. The ones who've been poking around the park.""We're cryptozoologists," Dexter said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "And yes, we've been studying the creature. Which is why you need to leave it alone. It's not a threat unless—""Unless what? Unless we try to defend ourselves?" The leader shook his head. "Look, I don't know what you think you're doing, but that thing is dangerous. Maybe it hasn't hurt anyone yet, but it's only a matter of time.""You don't know that," Dexter protested."Neither do you." The leader signaled to his team. "Pack it up. We're relocating.""Where?" Isabel asked suspiciously."Somewhere you're not. This isn't a game, kids. People could get hurt."As the hunters gathered their equipment and left the clearing, Dexter felt a wave of frustration. They'd had the Shadow right there. Right there. And now it was gone, and they had nothing but questions."Did everyone see what I saw?" Jesse asked quietly once they were alone."The smile?" Martin said. "Yeah. I saw it.""That wasn't a smile," Isabel said, but she didn't sound convinced. "That was just... animal behavior. Showing teeth. Dominance display.""It was a smile," Dexter said firmly. "It was showing us it understood. That it's aware of us the same way we're aware of it.""That should be exciting," Martin said. "Proof of high intelligence. But instead, it's just...""Terrifying," Jesse finished.They stood in the clearing, surrounded by the carefully arranged stones and shiny objects, and Dexter realized something fundamental had shifted. This wasn't just about discovering a new species anymore. This was about confronting something that challenged every assumption they'd made about the natural world."We need to go," Isabel said. "Those hunters are going to regroup and come back with more people. We need to figure out our next move before they do.""Agreed," Dexter said. "Back to my apartment. We need to review everything we know and make a plan."As they hiked back toward the parking lot, Dexter couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. He glanced over his shoulder multiple times, but saw nothing. Just trees and shadows and the ordinary forest that suddenly felt anything but ordinary.They were halfway to the parking lot when Jesse stopped suddenly."Guys? My tablet's acting weird."Dexter turned. Jesse was tapping at his screen, frowning. "The GPS is glitching. It says we've been walking for forty-five minutes.""It's been ten minutes, tops," Martin said."I know. But look." Jesse showed them the screen. The GPS track showed their path, but the timestamps were wrong. According to the device, they'd started walking at 8:47 AM. Dexter checked his phone.It was 9:52 AM."That's not possible," Isabel said. "We left the clearing at 9:30. I checked specifically.""Check your phones," Jesse said urgently.They all pulled out their devices. Every single one showed the same time: 9:52 AM. More than an hour had passed.But none of them could remember it."We lost time," Martin breathed. "We actually lost time.""There has to be an explanation," Isabel said, but she sounded uncertain. "Phone glitch. All connected to the same cell tower, same error—""All our devices?" Jesse shook his head. "Including my tablet which doesn't use cell service, just GPS satellites?"Dexter's mouth was dry. "When the Shadow howled. That sound. Do you remember what happened after?"They all thought back. The howl, the vibration in their bones, and then... nothing. A gap. The next clear memory was the creature walking away."It did something to us," Martin said quietly. "When it made that sound. It did something to our brains.""Or our perception of time," Jesse added. "Some animals can affect their prey's nervous system. Electric eels, certain jellyfish. Maybe the Shadow produces some kind of... I don't know. Sonic weapon? Infrasound that disrupts neural function?""Infrasound can cause hallucinations, nausea, feelings of dread," Isabel said, her journalistic mind clearly trying to rationalize. "There are documented cases. But this? An hour of lost time?""We need to tell Dr. Marsh," Dexter said. "This changes everything. If the Shadow can affect human perception like this—"His phone rang, making them all jump.It was Dr. Marsh."Mr. Quinn," her voice was tight with controlled panic. "Where are you right now?""Just leaving Millbrook Park. Why?""Get out. Get out now and stay out. We've had an incident."Dexter's blood ran cold. "What kind of incident?""Two hikers went into the park early this morning. Experienced outdoorsmen, knew the trails well. We just found them twenty minutes ago near Ridgeline Trail." A pause. "They're alive, but they're... They're not making sense. Talking about shadows that moved wrong. Time loops. One of them won't stop screaming about eyes in the trees. We've got them in an ambulance headed to Millbrook General.""Were they attacked?""There's not a mark on them. But something scared them badly enough that one of them is catatonic and the other is having a complete psychological breakdown. We're evacuating the park and closing it indefinitely. If you know what's out there, now would be a very good time to tell me."Dexter looked at his friends—Martin pale and shaken, Jesse frantically reviewing his tablet data, Isabel listening intently while her hand unconsciously moved to her camera as if seeking comfort in something concrete."We need to meet," Dexter said. "All of us. There's something you need to see."They reconvened at Dexter's apartment an hour later. Dr. Marsh arrived with a laptop and several thick folders, her professional composure cracking around the edges."Show me everything," she said without preamble.They did. Isabel's photographs. Jesse's thermal imaging and drone footage. Martin's sketches and folklore research. Dexter's timeline and pattern analysis. And finally, Jesse's tablet data showing the missing hour.Dr. Marsh listened, occasionally making notes, her expression growing grimmer with each revelation.When they finished, she was quiet for a long moment."I need to tell you something," she said finally. "Something that's not in any official report."She opened one of her folders and pulled out a photograph. It was old, faded, dated 1978."This was taken by a park ranger named Thomas Whitmore. He was doing a routine survey after the storms that summer when he found... this."The photograph showed a clearing in the woods. In the center was a circle of stones—just like the ones they'd been finding. But in this photo, the circle wasn't empty.There was a body.Or what was left of one."Jesus," Martin whispered.The remains were arranged in the center of the circle, bones laid out in a specific pattern. Not torn apart by scavengers. Arranged. Deliberately."Whitmore filed a report, but it was buried," Dr. Marsh continued. "The official story was that a hiker had died of exposure and animal scavengers had disturbed the remains. But Whitmore's notes tell a different story. He documented strange markings on the bones. Symbols carved into the trees around the site. And his final entry..." She pulled out a photocopy of a handwritten note. "He wrote: 'It's not an animal. It's not a spirit. It's something in between. Something that remembers. And it's watching us the same way we watch it.'""What happened to Whitmore?" Isabel asked."He took early retirement six months later. Moved to Florida. Died in 2003. But before he died, he sent this package to the Conservation Office with instructions that it should be opened if there were ever another wave of sightings." Dr. Marsh pulled out another document. "There's more. Dental records identified the body from 1978. It was a hunter named Raymond Cross. He'd gone into the woods looking for whatever was killing livestock. He was experienced, armed, and he knew the terrain.""And it killed him," Jesse said quietly."Maybe. Or maybe he died of something else and the Shadow just... arranged him afterward. We don't know. But here's the thing that kept Whitmore up at night, according to his notes: the body had been there for weeks. But when he found it, it wasn't decomposed the way it should have been. It was preserved. Almost mummified. Like something had been keeping it that way."The room was silent except for the hum of Dexter's refrigerator."Why are you telling us this?" Dexter asked."Because you're going to keep investigating no matter what I say. I know your type—curious, stubborn, convinced you can understand something that might be beyond understanding. And because..." Dr. Marsh closed her folders. "Because I think you might be right. I think the Shadow is trying to communicate. But I also think it's dangerous in ways we don't fully comprehend yet. And I think those hunters are going to force a confrontation that could end very badly for everyone involved.""So what do we do?" Martin asked."We document everything. We establish communication protocols. We figure out what it wants before someone else forces it to become the monster everyone thinks it is." Dr. Marsh stood. "But we do this carefully. No more amateur expeditions. No more wandering around in the woods hoping to get lucky. From now on, we work together. Professionally. Scientifically.""And safely," Isabel added."And safely," Dr. Marsh agreed, though her tone suggested she wasn't sure safety was possible anymore.After Dr. Marsh left with copies of all their research, the team sat in exhausted silence."So," Martin said eventually. "That was a lot.""Yeah," Jesse agreed."We should probably call it a day," Isabel suggested. "Process everything. Regroup tomorrow with fresh perspectives."Everyone nodded, but nobody moved."Can I ask something?" Martin said quietly. "When the Shadow looked at us today... did anyone else feel like it was trying to tell us something?""Yes," Dexter admitted. "But I have no idea what.""I think..." Martin hesitated. "I think it was a warning. 'Stay away' or 'I could hurt you but I'm choosing not to.'""Or maybe it was asking for help," Jesse suggested. "Like, 'I'm being hunted too.'""Or maybe," Isabel said softly, "it was saying 'I know what you are. Do you know what I am?'"They all sat with that uncomfortable thought."I need to go home," Jesse said finally, standing. "My mom's going to kill me for missing curfew. Again.""I should go too," Martin added. "I have a shift at the bookstore in an hour and I haven't slept in... I don't actually know how long."They gathered their things and filed out, leaving Dexter and Isabel alone in the apartment."You okay?" Isabel asked.Dexter laughed without humor. "I've spent my entire adult life looking for proof that cryptids exist. Now I've found one and I'm terrified. I don't know whether to be excited or horrified.""Both is valid," Isabel said. She moved to the wall covered in photographs and evidence, studying the pattern they'd created. "Dexter, can I ask you something personal?""Sure.""Why do you do this? The cryptid hunting. What are you looking for?"Dexter thought about deflecting, making a joke. But he was too tired for deflection."When I was eight, my dad took me camping. Last trip before the divorce. We were in the woods in Maine, and I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. And I saw something." He paused, remembering. "It was just a shape in the darkness, but it was wrong. Too big. Moving wrong. My dad said it was a moose, but I knew it wasn't. I knew I'd seen something impossible.""And you've been looking for it ever since.""I've been looking for something. Proof that the world is bigger and stranger than we think. That there are mysteries worth solving." He smiled sadly. "My mom thinks I'm wasting my life. My cousin Brad thinks I'm delusional. And until about a week ago, I was starting to think they were right."Isabel turned to face him. "And now?""Now I've found something impossible. And I don't know what to do with it."They stood there for a moment, the late afternoon sun streaming through the windows, illuminating dust motes and the chaotic evidence of their investigation."I should go," Isabel said finally. "I have to file something with the Gazette. They're expecting an update on the 'park situation.'""What are you going to write?""The truth. Or at least a sanitized version of it. 'Unidentified animal sighted in local park. Experts investigating. Park closed for public safety.'" She gathered her camera bag. "The real story... that I'm saving for when we actually understand what we're dealing with.""And if we never understand?""Then I guess we'll be trying to solve this mystery for the rest of our lives." She paused at the door. "Would that be so bad?"Before Dexter could answer, she was gone.He stood in his empty apartment, surrounded by evidence of the impossible, and realized with startling clarity that at some point in the last week, his investigation had stopped being about proving he wasn't crazy.It had become about protecting something extraordinary from people who would destroy it out of fear.And maybe—just maybe—it had also become about the woman who'd decided to believe in him, or at least believe in the possibility that he might be onto something.His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.This is Bill Kowalski. We need to talk. Meet me at my house tomorrow, 8 AM. Come alone. There's something I should have told  you from the start.Dexter stared at the message, a chill running down his spine.What had Bill been hiding?That night, Dexter couldn't sleep.He lay in bed, replaying the day's events. The Shadow's smile. The lost hour. The photograph of Raymond Cross's carefully arranged bones.Around 2 AM, he gave up on sleep and went to his laptop. Maybe if he reviewed the evidence one more time, something would click.He pulled up Jesse's thermal imaging footage, watching frame by frame as the heat signature moved through the woods. There was something odd about the movement pattern. It didn't move like a quadruped. The gait was wrong. Almost like it was choosing how to move, adapting its locomotion to the terrain rather than following instinctive patterns.Dexter slowed the footage down further, watching the moment the signature disappeared.And there—for just one frame—something else appeared in the image.A second heat signature.Smaller. Different shape. Only visible for a fraction of a second before it too vanished.Dexter's blood ran cold.There was more than one.The Shadow wasn't alone.He grabbed his phone to text the group, then hesitated. It was 2 AM. It could wait until morning. Probably.He set the phone down and returned to the footage, watching that single frame over and over.Two creatures. One large, one smaller. Moving in coordination.Parent and offspring? he wondered. Or something else?A sound from outside his window made him freeze.Scratching. Like claws on brick.His apartment was on the third floor.Slowly, Dexter turned toward the window. The curtains were drawn, but he could see a shadow moving behind them. Large. Too large.The scratching continued. Deliberate. Rhythmic.Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.Not random. A pattern.The shadow moved away from the window.Dexter sat frozen for a full minute before finally finding the courage to stand. He approached the window slowly, heart hammering.He pulled back the curtain.Nothing there. Just the fire escape and the empty street three stories below.But on the window, scratched into the grime and condensation, was a symbol.A circle with three lines radiating from the center.The same symbol Martin had found in the folklore book. The Lenape symbol for "the place between worlds."Someone—or something—had marked his window.And they'd known exactly where he lived.Dexter backed away from the window, his phone already in his hand.The hunt had just become personal.