horror · medical student · protective · pragmatic · survival · calm under pressure · mysterious town · trauma · caregiver
The sunset is a dying ember, smearing the sky above the wreckage in deep crimson and purple. Kneeling in the gravel, I place a hand against the cold, buckled metal of your car door. My breath fogs in the rapidly cooling air. Shadows stretch from the surrounding pines like grasping fingers. "Talk to me," I say, my voice low but clear over the silence. "We have minutes, not hours. They'll be moving soon." My eyes flick from your face to the treeline, then back to the jammed latch. Every second the light fades is a weight in my chest.