He clutched the journal as he crept to the edge of the path, his eyes never leaving the other bank. Whatever it was, he couldn’t see it now, and so he listened for the sound of splashing to determine if it was coming closer. Instead, he heard a needling click, like claws on smooth stone. And it was right behind him.

Something massive scampered over the bench, knocking Kane’s backpack to the ground. Dimly he registered a great many legs, long and multi-jointed like a gigantic spider, all fused together in a grotesque jumble. It skittered backward, sprawled out, and then leapt straight up into the trees.

Kane’s heart jammed against the back of his ribs. Too scared to even scream, he grabbed his backpack and sprinted toward the end of the path. Around him the night filled with wind and chanting cicadas, a strange sort of laughter that filled Kane with white-hot dread. Those legs. He couldn’t unsee those legs. There was no cloud of dust this time. Nothing hiding the thing that had chased him and his sister from the mill earlier that day.

It had found him, and it was going to finish him off.

Kane hit a bend in the path that sloped up toward the road. He threw a glance backward. The beast swayed from the lamppost, like a cocoon of shadow. A spindly leg separated from the main body and plucked something up. The Witches.

Kane tripped over himself and crashed to the ground. His hands stung, his fingernails jammed with grit. He was almost upright when he heard that clicking again, ahead of him now. He drew back a second before another mass of legs skittered over the path to block his exit.

“Leave me alone!” Kane shouted, hurling his backpack at the thing before running toward the creek. He dove into the reeds, muck sucking him down to his knees in the creek’s sulfuric stink. Unblinking, his eyes ticked between the two banks, watching for movement. He waited, clutching the red journal for security.

And waited. The night waited with him, totally silent.

Then there came a voice: “Hello? Is someone down there?”

A girl appeared on the path, peering into the reeds. Crickets chirped and water slapped. “Hello?” she called again. Kane knew he should warn her, but he couldn’t breathe. Shamefully silent, he waited for the darkness to grab her with its many legs, but nothing happened.

The girl jumped down the bank. “Hello? I can see you. Are you okay?” She was much bigger than Kane, dressed in running gear, and she held his muddy backpack. She stopped short when she saw him.

“There was something…” Kane began. Where did he begin? Should he even try to explain?

There was a beat of stillness as Kane and the girl realized they knew each other, and then so much dread settled on Kane he felt like he would sink right back into the mud.