Blogtober 2025, Day 9: Moonlight
“Emily!” Sarah’s voice carried too loudly, shattering the
hush. No answer. Only the rustle of leaves settling back into place where Emily
had vanished.
Mark cursed, sweeping his useless flashlight as if sheer
force would coax it back to life. “She knows the rules—nobody splits up. We’ve
got to go after her.”
Tyler shook his head, face pale. “That wasn’t her choice.
You saw how she moved—like she was pulled.”
The three huddled close, breathing quick. Above them, the
branches shifted, letting a stripe of moonlight pierce through. It lit the
trail just enough to show the ribbons again, fluttering though no wind touched
them.
Sarah gripped Mark’s arm. “We can’t just wander in blind.
What if she’s already gone?”
Mark’s jaw tightened. “If we leave her, she will be
gone. Forever. We stick together. No more running off.”
Tyler’s eyes darted to the glowing symbol etched into the
oak, still pulsing faintly behind them. “What if it wants us all?”
The thought hung heavy. Somewhere in the dark, the humming
rose again—softer now, but layered, as if more than one child had joined the
song.
Sarah whispered, “God help us. There’s more than Lucy.”
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