When I wake up, I am groggy and have trouble opening my eyes. I squeeze them once, twice, thrice, my eyelids fluttering, and even that pains me. Each time I open my eyes, even a little, I find the world in front of me blurry. My head hurts, throbbing with each breath, until I can’t seem to think anymore. 

Gradually, my eyes adjust to the darkness around me. I see the vague outlines of trees, their branches swaying back and forth. A soft summer breeze blows by, and it is almost lulling as I lie there on the ground. This sound has always been soothing to me, but not so much today. 

Dark. The night is inky black. I process this information slowly. 

I feel my heart drop to my stomach, and I sit up as quickly as I can. I am dizzy, and everything around me is spinning.

Shit. This isn’t good. I bite my lip harshly, waiting for the stab of pain to wake me up further. A few slow breaths, and I wait until everything stops moving then force myself off the ground. I still feel a little off-kilter even now. 

Where exactly am I?

Everything looks so different at night. I feel kind of lost here, having never been out this late. Usually, I am always back home by the time the second warning bell tolls in my village. 

The last thing I remember is going down the hill to find the wheel of my cart and falling. I am drawing a complete blank of what happened after that. Everything is dark. I must have hit my head and passed out unconscious. Looking at the night that has settled around me, I think a lot of time must have gone by. 

I feel panic settling deep in my bones, and my frown deepens. 

At this moment, all I can think about is my parents and visions of their being torn apart and eaten by Trolls. I assume their screams must have pierced the stillness of the night. Of course, I never saw them dying, but I can only imagine something like this happening that night. 

This is not good. 

I begin to move forward, trying to be as quiet as I possibly can, with the trees being my only guide. I think I am going North, in the direction of my home, or at least I think I am. My compass is back in my cart, but by now I’m sure all the stuff in the cart has been raided by the Night Dwellers. Everything is lost. 

I swallow painfully, my throat constricting in fear. I’m lucky they didn't follow my scent down the hill and I didn't wake up to something gnawing at my bones or dragging me back to one of their caves. 

Maybe I am lucky. 

I’ve heard horrifying stories from animal hunters who have stayed out past evening. That sometimes happens when they happen to run behind. They swore that each time, they felt they were followed and stalked by Night Dwellers the second the sun disappeared. And they barely managed to survive that ordeal. 

At the end of their stories, they always said when they reached the safety of their cellars, the screams of the Night Dwellers shook the walls of their cabins, going right down to their very souls. The breaths of these beings were so rancid that the smell of it crawled through the walls and down to the floors to the place where they were holed up, turning their stomachs sour for the rest of the night. 

But what haunted them the most come morning were the furrows that were left by the claws of these Night Dwellers outside their homes, the grooves so deep that it looked as if a scythe had done it. 

Maybe these Night Dwellers were still lurking on the trails, looking for straggling humans more than hunting for things in the woods. Hopefully, for my sake. But in all my life, I’ve never been that lucky. Never. 

Each step I take, I think of it to be my last as I peer into the darkness. I see nothing moving, but I can’t be sure. My heart drops deeper into my stomach with its every beat. I feel ill with fear; my breaths have hastened in panic, even though I’ve not heard or seen anything so far. I continue forward, having no other option. Just the anticipation of something bad waiting to happen is killing me. Something really bad.

My mouth becomes dry as I smell the scent of smoke carried toward me by the breeze. Someone has lit a fire, and they are close by. Maybe they aren’t humans but something else. 

I think of Trolls and other things—things with sharp teeth that would want to eat me in different ways. 

One wrong move and I am dead. 

I can feel the dread slowly seeping into me as sweat begins to roll down my forehead. Suddenly, I hear the shuffling of feet and laughter coming from somewhere around me. My body trembles, and I rush to hide behind a tree, away from the trail I was walking on, despite my better judgment. 

I pray I have not spotted. I cover my mouth with my hand, hoping to conceal my breaths as these voices grow louder, and they seem to be moving nearer. I hear a language not of my own and swallow hard. 

Night Dwellers.

Trolls or Daemons, maybe.

Their treads grow louder, leading me to believe they are bigger than I have imagined them to be, not smaller. I watch as two tall and large bodies move along the trail. Their silhouettes constantly waver as the trees between us don’t allow a direct vision. 

To me, it looks like they are carrying weapons, just as huge as their bodies, and I wonder how many humans have been pummeled to death by them. One suddenly stops walking and becomes still, making the other one halt too. I push my palm tight against my mouth, nearly suffocating myself.

The one who stopped first lifts his nose as if sniffing the air and says some words not understood by me, but I can surmise them. “Do you smell that?”

The other one too takes a big whiff of the air and nods. I am sure of his response. “Yes. A human.”

They look at each other and start shuffling and grinning manically. “A female human.”

I hear a grunt followed by a growl as their eyes dart in different directions. “She’s close.”

I am nearly one with the tree bark as I don’t want even my shadow to fall on the path they are on. I can hear them moving, and to my shock, instead of moving away, they are growing closer to where I am hiding. The branches snap, and the leaves rustle as the foliage is moved to allow their passage. Now I know they are no longer walking on the trail but are on the course to hunt me directly in the forest. I can see the shadows of their bodies getting bigger, the closer they get to me. My heart thuds loudly in my chest, I hope they can’t hear that. Even my lungs seem to have stopped breathing completely. 

Run or stay…run or stay…run or stay…

What do I do? I fight against my instincts to remain hiding and lift my foot to run, but it is right at the very moment that I am grabbed by the scruff of my neck not by them, but by another. A giggle rings through the dark night, but I can understand the words spoken by this one just fine, unlike the talks of the other two presumably male Trolls. “She’s mine. I found her first!”

I can’t make out if this being is male or female or what species it is other than its thin, small, and bony body—not something I would associate with a Troll. But with such a diminutive body, I wouldn’t think that it would challenge a Troll. But it did. Maybe the intelligence of this Night Dweller is low. 

I don’t want to die! What do I do? I am surrounded by three of the Night Dwellers, and one of them has me. I can’t fight either. I don’t know how.

And if I scream, no one will hear me. It will only attract more of these things, and the situation will only worsen. I breathe heavily through my mouth. One of the bigger Trolls laughs heartily and steps forward, now directly in my view. “Not only are you puny, but you’re a dumb Skeller. Go back to your cave and leave us the woman. What use will you have for her?”

I can understand the Troll now; although, his face is still in the shadows, and I cannot get a good look. His eyes, however, shine golden in this darkness, unlike the tales that said their eyes were dull and scary dark red. 

I had no idea that these beings, the Night Dwellers or even the Trolls, could speak our language. That is even more frightening.

And a Skeller…what is a Skeller? I have never heard of their kind. No stories or anything. Has anyone, even the hunters, ever encountered them?

“And you! What use would you have for this fat cow other than using her for your main dish? You’re just a dumb Troll from the Vonkill tribe!” hisses the thing behind me, its claws pressing against my neck.

“I’m just a dumb Troll from the Vonkill tribe, huh?” the man…no, Troll…grumbles.

The other Troll beside him, with the same golden eyes, narrows his gaze. “We’re the twin chieftains...not just any Trolls, thing. Give us the girl now, and you won’t be killed.”

The Skeller cackles behind me, seeming to not believe they are the chieftains of the Vonkill tribe. “Then I’m the Queen of caves and mines. Get lost, damn petty Trolls! This one’s bones are mine.”

One of the Trolls sighs deeply while glancing at the other. “Kill her?”

A weapon shifts off the taller Troll’s shoulder as their eyes focus dangerously on the Skeller behind me. “Couldn’t agree more.”

My heart sinks, as without regard for my safety and uncaring about my standing in front of them, they swing their weapon toward us. I barely manage to duck, and when I do, the Skeller’s claws scratch my neck. Luckily, they are surface wounds and not deep enough to cause me terrible pain.

A resounding crack followed by a smash echo throughout the night air, and the body behind me collapses to the ground.

One of the Trolls sighs again. “The females are a lot weaker and easier to kill. Maybe we should use her bones for decorating. It’s not every day a Skeller emerges from their caves. What do you think?”

The other laughs evilly. “No, perhaps we can use her insides. Her cunt…I think...would make a good pouch to carry around and show off to the others.”

They both snigger in agreement as they think of ways they can use the Skeller’s body. I am still shocked at the sight of what I am facing. Two Trolls standing in front of me. One Skeller dead behind me. My eyes round in fear as my legs refuse to move. I take a deep breath in, hoping it will help me collect myself. 

I need to run now! Or else my ‘cunt’ will be used as some pouch too.

My feet start shuffling forward before my mind can agree with me or make any other cohesive plans. I hear the two laugh louder, now making fun of me after they are done mocking the dead Skeller. I sprint ahead, trying to put as much distance between us, their voices muffled with each step. Yet I can still hear them. 

“I wonder how fast she can run with those plump, little legs.”

“Not far. Humans can’t see well in the dark like we can.”

“Should we chase her now?”

“Yes, but let's give her a head start. It’s only fair. And it will make the hunt interesting.”

“A game. I like it already.”

That is the last I hear from the two chieftains as I continue running aimlessly deep into the forest, my eyes constantly darting in all directions and keeping a lookout for the Night Dwellers or Trolls that I may run into.

I see a flicker of light in between the trees, and from an instinct born out of my need to survive, I run toward that light. I can smell it now. A campfire. I know that smell very well. 

It is small, but I am hopeful it belongs to a human dwelling as it is in the North. I hope it is a human hunter who can help me escape these beings and get back to my village. 

Please…just please…let me get to the humans in time before either of these Trolls find me.

Branches slap my face, and I trip over my own two feet as I continue to run in the dark. My mind is focused on my escape, and nothing else matters. My body aches from all the bruises and scrapes that batter it, but no matter what, I keep pushing forward to increase the distance between me and the Trolls. 

The light in the distance grows brighter as I near it, and I begin to feel happy, my feet rushing forward with inner speed. My joy wanes when my eyes take in the bones and a half-eaten carcass lying around it. I try to slow down and change directions, but by then I am already at the campsite. Great. Now I am out in the open, as if inviting the Trolls to eat me. 

I should have known. I’m so stupid!

I feel tears running down my face when I hear one of the Trolls from earlier call out to me from my left, “Where’d ya go, fatty?”

The other screeches from the right, “The fatty has surprised me, though. She managed to run faster than I imagined.”

They have surrounded me. 

They begin to cackle as the first one counters, “But not as fast as she hoped.”

“Unlucky she is.”

I swallow hard again and am about to start running, when I hear a gruff voice stop me in my tracks. “I wouldn’t run if I were you.”

I don’t even have time to gasp as something comes barreling from the trees in the direction I came running from. It drops down behind me with a loud thud, dirt kicking up in the air, but I don’t dare to move.

A large hand falls roughly on my shoulder, and the man or the being says, “You run to the twins, and they will strip you down to the bone, alive and all. Stay here, and I will not do anything like that to you. You have my word, lassie.”

His fingers sink into my flesh, the dull nails marking my skin, and I am struck by a second wave of fear. And indecisiveness.

What should I do?

I stand rooted to my spot, unable to see his face, but chills traverse down my spine on listening to his next words. 

“You came just in time for dinner. I’m hungry.” 

My heart drops right down to my feet, wanting to escape my body, as chains of cold dread wrap around me. Because of my selfish reasons for not wanting to leave my stuff behind, I seem to have encountered a set of hungry Night Dwellers, many or all of whom are set on eating me, including the one I have just run into. 

What the hell, Journee!