Chapter 3: Escape Denied, Worms Unleashed

The sight was like something from a nightmare. My knees buckled, bile rising in my throat. The branches jutted out of her chest and arms, her face frozen in agony. Blood dripped onto the moss below, pooling at her feet. I wanted to scream.

None of the men dared go forward. Only after the councilman shouted did they finally carry her down. Her clothes loosened, and the coins and cornbread she’d stolen fell to the ground. Her neck was already bruised from strangulation, and what was wrapped around it was the very sausage we ate yesterday!

The coins clinked as they hit the dirt, shining dully in the morning sun. The sausage was twisted tight, a gruesome necklace. Savannah gagged, turning away, her face pale as chalk. My hands shook.

Savannah kept gagging.

“Guardian spirit, she angered the guardian spirit!” The councilman picked up the bloodstained coins, trembling as he fell to the ground. The locals all knelt and chanted words I couldn’t understand.

Their voices rose and fell, a haunting chorus that made my skin crawl. My scalp prickled. The councilman’s hands shook as he pressed the coins to his forehead. I took a step back, wishing I could run far, far away.

I hurriedly looked at Mr. Dalton. As our homeroom teacher, he was supposed to be our backbone. But now he looked panicked too.

The old councilman’s eyebrows twitched. His voice was low, heavy:

“Someone—take them all back! Leave them to the guardian’s judgment!”

Mr. Dalton’s face was ashen, sweat beading on his brow. The councilman’s order was final. Strong hands grabbed our arms, shoving us back toward the house. My heart hammered in my chest, dread settling in my bones.

We were shoved back to the same room by strong men. I stumbled and almost fell.

Savannah, who had never suffered such humiliation, cried so much it was unbearable. Cornbread and sausage were still on the table, but no one could eat a bite. Autumn’s death was still fresh in our minds. The room was heavy with gloom that lingered for a long time.

The silence was suffocating. Savannah sobbed into her hands, mascara streaking down her cheeks. I stared at the untouched food, the memory of Autumn’s twisted body making me gag. Even Mariah was silent, her bravado gone. My chest ached.

“I have a plan,” Mr. Dalton finally said after a while.

“This village is empty at night. We’ll run away after dark and call the police.”

Yes, call the police! Someone had died. The police couldn’t just do nothing.

Hope flickered in the gloom. Savannah wiped her eyes, nodding. I gripped my phone, desperate for a lifeline. Mariah paced, chewing her nails. Maybe, just maybe, we could make it out.

I took out my phone, only to find there was no signal.

All our phones were piled on the table—our signals had been cut off!

“So about calling the police…”

“We have to! As long as we get to the van, we can escape! We’ll get signal there and call the police.”

“Okay!”

Panic set in. No bars, no way out. Mr. Dalton tried to sound confident, but his voice wavered. We all clung to the plan, because it was the only thing we had.

Night fell. Mr. Dalton led Savannah, and Mariah and I followed behind. My breath caught in my throat. This was it—do or die.

Rustling sounds behind us made my scalp tingle. I turned to see a swarm of bugs crawling along the ground, packed together like a giant net. Their segmented, milky-white bodies squirmed over the earth. Even though I grew up in the country, I felt sick at the sight.

“Help—”

Savannah glared at me, and I forced the words back down. She was scarier than those bugs.

The bugs moved in waves, a living tide that made my skin crawl. My stomach flipped. I clamped a hand over my mouth, fighting the urge to scream. Savannah’s glare was enough to shut me up, but the memory of those wriggling bodies haunted me with every step.

When I looked again, the bugs were gone. Was I just seeing things from nerves?

I blinked, rubbing my eyes. The path ahead was empty, but the feeling of being watched never left.

We turned another corner and saw Mr. Dalton’s white van up ahead, shining in the night. Almost there—we were almost out!

Just two steps away, the village entrance suddenly lit up as bright as day, the firelight blinding. We shielded our eyes with our sleeves, needing a moment to adjust. The locals from that morning were at the entrance with torches, blocking us! But when did they light those torches? Why hadn’t we seen any sign of light before?

The flames flickered wildly, throwing shadows across the trees. The locals’ faces were twisted, their eyes hard. The torches crackled, the smell of kerosene sharp in the air. My hope died on the spot. I could barely breathe.

“Hmph, I knew you people would try to run!” The old councilman shook his beard, firelight casting deep shadows on his face.

“You’ve committed a grave taboo and won’t be let off easy!”

Several strong men shouted, raising their torches. The fire grew stronger, almost lighting up the whole woods.

The councilman’s voice was thunder, echoing through the trees. The men advanced, their boots crunching on gravel. Savannah shrank back, clutching my arm. My legs felt like jelly. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.

I was so scared my legs trembled, and Mr. Dalton was sweating buckets, unable to speak clearly. Forget escaping—surviving the night was uncertain.

The air was thick with fear. Mr. Dalton’s shirt stuck to his back, his hands shaking. We pressed together, praying for a miracle.

I stared at my sneakers, resigned. Savannah’s skirt fluttered in the wind. Even here, her aura was hard to hide.

No, she wouldn’t just sit and wait to die.

“As long as you let us go, you’ll get plenty of money!” Savannah put on her best spoiled rich girl act. “A million—how about that?”

Her voice was brittle, desperate. She tossed her hair, trying to look unbothered, but her hands trembled. The councilman’s eyes narrowed, unimpressed.

It was tempting, but to people of faith, money can’t solve everything. Her words were like a bomb, causing an uproar.

“Who said that? Step forward! Today is your death day!”

The crowd roared, anger rising like a storm. Someone spat on the ground. Savannah’s bravado faded, her eyes darting for an escape. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

A fierce look flashed in Savannah’s eyes. Before I could react, Mariah staggered forward, pushed out by her.

Mariah looked back in disbelief.

I avoided her gaze, guilt gnawing at me. Call it selfish, but at that moment, I actually felt relieved. As long as it wasn’t me.

Mariah’s eyes begged for help, but I looked away. The guilt burned, but fear was stronger. In this place, you did what you had to do to survive. That’s just how it is.

The locals closed in, looking like demons in the firelight. Mariah was carried like a pig and thrown into a nearby stinking water tank, struggling wildly. My stomach turned to ice.

Savannah’s face looked like she’d swallowed a bug—disgusted and ugly. I peeked and saw it wasn’t a water tank at all! It was full of white flesh-eating worms, crawling into Mariah’s ears and nose.

Her screams tore through the night, then faded to wet, choking gasps. The worms writhed over her skin, disappearing into every opening. I turned away, bile burning my throat. Horror clawed at my insides.

I vomited bile on the spot.

Mariah quickly went pale, stopped moving, and stared blankly at the sky.

The silence that followed was absolute. The only sound was the crackling of torches and my own ragged breathing. My hands shook.