Chapter 1: A deserted road.

I realized, after walking on the empty, deserted road, that walking and crying was not a promising idea. The desolated path was shrouded by a dense canopy of towering trees, their branches interlacing like skeletal fingers reaching towards the heavens. The moon, hidden behind dark clouds, cast intermittent shadows that danced eerily along the uneven pavement. The chorus of chirping crickets filled the night air, their relentless symphony punctuated by the occasional croak of a frog from a nearby pond.

With each step I took, the sound of my own footsteps echoed in the silence, amplifying the unease that had settled deep within me. The rhythmic thud of my shoes against the worn-out road seemed to synchronize with the rapid hammering of my heart against my chest, creating a disconcerting symphony of fear and anxiety.

"Wow, even my footsteps are sounding like I am in a conjuring movie," I muttered, a tremor in my voice. "Damn you, Annabelle."

As I continued my solitary journey, the shadows cast by the towering trees became more menacing. Each twist and turn in the road seemed to reveal hidden horrors, imaginary figures lurking just beyond my peripheral vision. My overactive imagination conjured images of malevolent entities hiding behind the gnarled trunks, their eyes glinting with malicious intent. A shiver ran down my spine as I quickened my pace, desperate to escape the oppressive darkness that enveloped me.

Amidst the tense atmosphere, a sudden sound shattered the stillness—a twig snapping under an unseen force. My heart leaped into my throat, its frantic beats drowning out the chorus of crickets. Gripped by fear, I instinctively reached for a broken twig lying at the side of the road, a feeble attempt at arming myself against the unknown. Clutching the makeshift weapon tightly, I fumbled with the bags in my hands, trying to maintain some semblance of control amidst the chaos of my emotions.

"Why in the world do I have so many bags?" I cursed myself, the frustration evident in my voice. Stumbling with my burdens, I muttered, "If I die tonight with this much luggage, my spirit will most probably get bound to this luggage."

My eyes darted nervously, scanning the encroaching darkness of the forest. The inky blackness seemed to hold countless secrets and unseen threats. My senses heightened, I became hyper-aware of every sound and movement, my imagination conjuring scenarios of lurking danger. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, intensifying the eerie atmosphere.

Unexpectedly, my feet collided with an obstacle, and I found myself unceremoniously sprawled on the ground. The impact reverberated through my body, my ears ringing from the suddenness of the fall. Before I could gather my bearings, a strong hand clamped over my mouth, stifling any scream that threatened to escape.

"Oh God, stop screaming," a husky voice demanded, a mixture of irritation and concern lacing his words. "Or else my ears are going to bleed out."

Startled, I blinked up at the person who had silenced me, my eyes widening at the sight before me. The stranger emerged from the shadows, bathed in a sliver of moonlight. His features were a symphony of captivating contradictions. Tousled locks of brown hair, kissed by the wind, framed a face that could have been sculpted by an artist's hand. His eyes, the most exquisite shade of blue I had ever seen, held a depth that seemed to peer into my soul, their intensity softened by a glimmer of genuine concern. Soft, rosy lips curved into an amused smile, revealing a hint of playfulness. And his jawline, sharp and defined, hinted at a strength that both fascinated and unnerved me.

"I am not killing you," he explained, his voice laced with amusement, as if he were privy to the chaotic thoughts swirling within my mind.

I looked at him, my heart still racing, my grip on the twig tightening involuntarily. The tension in my body slowly eased as I reluctantly allowed myself to be captivated by his enigmatic presence. There was something about him, something inexplicably alluring, that compelled me to lower my defenses.

Gaining some semblance of composure, I stood up abruptly, raising the twig defensively in front of me. "Who are you? Let me go," I proclaimed, a mix of fear and defiance lacing my voice. "Or else, I will hit you on your face."

The stranger stepped forward, stepping into a patch of light that filtered through the trees. As the glow accentuated his features, I found myself caught in the gravity of his gaze. Time seemed to stand still as I drank in every detail—the intensity of his blue eyes, the warmth of his smile, the way his hair danced with the breeze. In that moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of us, suspended in a momentary pause.

With a chuckle that resonated in the night, he broke the enchantment. "So when are you going to hit me? After checking me out?"

My confusion morphed into embarrassment as I realized my lingering gaze. Heat crept up my cheeks, and I scrunched my nose, closing my eyes momentarily to regain my composure. "So this is how I die," I whispered, more to myself than to him.

Another chuckle escaped his lips, drawing my attention back to his captivating presence. "I promise I'm not killing you," he reassured me, the warmth in his voice offering a glimmer of comfort.

Reluctantly, I loosened my grip on the twig, my defensive stance relaxing. I glanced at the dark forest surrounding us, still wary but inexplicably drawn to this stranger. Perhaps it was the vulnerability of the night or the weariness that seeped into my bones, but a part of me felt strangely at ease in his presence. It was as if an unspoken connection had formed, transcending the boundaries of familiarity and trust.

"Look, if you're not killing me," I huffed, my voice tinged with annoyance, "can I go?"

A flicker of concern crossed his eyes, momentarily replacing the amusement. "I don't know where I am standing right now," he confessed, his gaze turning towards the desolate road strewn with my scattered belongings. "And I don't have time for chats."

As he spoke, I noticed a genuine sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability that mirrored my own. The world suddenly seemed less menacing and more full of possibilities. Hesitant but curious, I gestured towards my bags. "You know, I'm lost and burdened with all these bags. If you're not a murderer or a psychopath, could you lend me a hand?"

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You need to go to the right; there is a motel," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "But don't go to the left side; there are rogues there."

I raised an eyebrow, half amused and half skeptical. "Rogues? Are we in a medieval fantasy?"

He stumbled over his words, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "I mean, I've heard that this neighborhood has a fair share of... unsavory characters."

I regarded him with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "And why should I trust you? You could be one of those unsavory characters yourself."

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture adding to his disheveled charm. "I know it's difficult to trust a stranger, especially at a time like this," he admitted, his voice taking on a softer tone. "But I genuinely want to help you. You're lost, and I can't simply leave you alone in the darkness, where something bad could happen."

His sincerity touched a chord within me, softening my wariness. I glanced at the foreboding forest once more, contemplating my options. Even in the face of uncertainty, an inexplicable sense of comfort emanated from this enigmatic stranger. Perhaps it was foolishness or a newfound willingness to embrace the unknown, but something compelled me to take a leap of faith.

"Fine," I relented, my voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and caution. "You can drop me somewhere... but I still don't fully trust you. So, if you try anything shady, I'm going to throw my bags at you and beat the shit out of you."

A playful smirk danced across his lips, and he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. You can beat the shit out of me if it makes you feel safer," he conceded, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I at least know your name?"

I paused for a moment, contemplating whether to reveal this sliver of my identity. "My name is Isabelle," I finally said, my voice steady but guarded.

He nodded, his eyes fixed on me with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. "Isabelle," he repeated, savoring the sound of my name as if testing its melody.

"Why'd you have to think about it for a moment?" A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "By the way, are you sure you're not Ted Bundy 2.0 or something?"

A burst of laughter escaped my lips, the tension in the air dissipating momentarily. "No, I assure you I'm not," I replied, amusement coloring my voice. "But tell me, stranger, what should I call you?"

He tilted his head, his gaze lingering on mine. "I'm Isaac," he said, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of mystery.

Isaac. The name rolled off his tongue with a certain elegance, adding to the enigmatic aura that surrounded him. Something about him, about Isaac, sparked a curiosity within me, an unspoken desire to unravel the mysteries he carried.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the unknown journey ahead. "Alright, Isaac," I said, a note of determination in my voice. "Lead the way."

And so, with Isaac by my side, we ventured into the night, our steps merging into a shared path, a chance encounter that would forever change the course of our lives.