It was just after sunset when I decided to go for a run. The air was cool, the kind that clings to your skin but not in an unpleasant way—more like a gentle warning that night was coming. The park was quieter than usual, shadows stretching long across the path, and the only sounds were my footsteps on the gravel and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.
I was rounding the bend near the old fountain—half-forgotten and cracked from years of neglect—when I saw her. An elderly woman sitting on a bench under a flickering lamp post. She was wearing a long gray coat, even though the evening wasn’t that cold, and a pale scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. Her head was bowed, hands clasped in her lap. Something about her posture felt… off. Almost too still. Like she had been sitting there for hours.
As I passed, she lifted her head slowly. Her eyes caught mine.
“Excuse me,” she said softly, almost too softly for me to hear. “Can you help me?”
I stopped. Not completely—just slowed my pace to a cautious walk. Her voice was calm, even sweet. But something inside me churned. There was no one else around. No cars on the nearby road. No dogs being walked. Just me, her, and a growing sense of dread.
“What do you need help with?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.
She gave a faint smile, the corners of her mouth twitching like it hurt to move. “I lost something… important. I think it’s just over there in the woods. Could you come with me to look?”
That’s when the alarm bells went off in my head. Not because of what she said, but how she said it. Too practiced. Like a line she’d used before. And who loses something important in the woods at dusk?
I hesitated for a split second, then forced a smile. “I’m really sorry,” I lied, checking my watch. “I promised I’d meet someone in five minutes. But maybe someone else will come by soon?”
She didn’t answer. Just stared at me. Eyes dull, but unblinking.
I walked away. Not too fast. I didn’t want to seem panicked. But my heart was pounding like I’d just sprinted a mile. I didn’t look back until I was well out of the park and near the main road. When I did, the bench was empty.
I made it home, locked the door, and shook it off as some strange encounter. Maybe she was just lonely. Maybe I’d let my imagination run wild.
But then the news came on.
“Police are asking for the public’s help in locating an elderly woman last seen in Greenwood Park around sunset. She is believed to be involved in a series of unusual disappearances over the past month. Witnesses describe her as wearing a gray coat and a pale scarf…”
My stomach dropped.
It was her. No doubt in my mind.
I sat there, staring at the screen, my hands cold and clammy.
I had almost followed her into the woods.
And I don’t think I would’ve come back out.