Chapter Five

Elena

It was raining all morning, and after about an hour, I decided to pack all my valuables and take them with me to Pinehaven. A warm cup of coffee inside a diner would do me some good, maybe even a proper breakfast. A bit late, I think to myself as I glance at my watch, but better late than never.

As soon as I step into Pinehaven, eerie silence descends upon me like a shroud. I walk slowly, glancing about with curiosity. The cobblestone pathways echo with the hollow sound of my footsteps. The cottages seem to lean away from me, casting elongated shadows. Windows are tightly shut, as if the villagers are shielding themselves from an unwelcome presence. The soft breeze carries the hushed whispers of leaves, in absence of human voices. For a moment, I wonder if this is some ghost town.

But then, I finally see people. They are huddled in small groups at the village square, their voices lowered to barely audible murmurs. I head over to them, but their eyes flicker with uncertainty and wariness. I am surrounded by unspoken tension and the misty veil of mistrust.

I try to look at it from their point of view. They're probably a closed community, a small one at that. They're not used to outsiders, or they simply don't like them, as is their right. Still, the hostility feels overpowering and somehow… needless.

I'm wondering which way to turn, to find a restaurant or a diner, but I'm reluctant to approach a group of people, who are obviously all talking about me. I don't even need to see them staring in my direction to know.

At that moment, I notice a lone figure aside from everyone else, standing by a weathered wooden post. Our gazes meet, hers with a mixture of apprehension and forced courtesy. I approach her, and it almost seems that she will turn around and run away, just so she wouldn't have to speak to me. But her feet keep her in place as I near her.

"Excuse me," I ask, trying to sound as friendly as possible, "could you recommend a place to eat around here?"

The lady looks at me, her steel cold blue eyes staring deeply. At first, I'm not even sure that she will reply, but after what seems to be a lengthy silence, she does.

"There is a small inn on the outskirts of the village," she tells me, pointing in a certain direction. "You'll find it down that path."

"Thank you," I smile nervously, wondering if this was a good idea.

I follow the path I was given, but the atmosphere doesn't shift. I keep noticing the fleeting glances of people I pass by, and the hushed conversations that accompany my every step. After a short while, the inn's fa?ade comes into view.

I have to admit that it is, more or less, what I expected it to be. There is a quaint charm to it, but also a note of somber neglect, as if someone had built it up to a certain point to make it fully functional, then left the aesthetics to the wind. A wooden sign creaks overhead, bearing the faded name. The Pinehaven Inn. I scoff at the originality.

I keep approaching it, surveying the whole place. If I weren't so freaked out by the people, I would actually like the ivy creeping up the weathered walls and the windows. But something tells me that this won't be a safe haven at all.

You can still go back, reason tells me.

But my stomach growls in response and it is settled. I push open the door, and a gust of chilly air greets me as I step inside. The atmosphere inside is even worse than outside. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood mingling with a hint of extinguished hearth. Dim lanterns hang from wooden beams, casting pools of warm light, as the dirty windows barely let any in. The low hum of muffled conversations pauses briefly as the innkeeper glances at me. In fact, everyone does.

I swallow heavily, feeling all those eyes on me. But now that I'm inside, I will get what I came here for. Trembling slightly, I walk to the innkeeper, a stout figure with a worn apron dirtier than the windows, if such a thing was even possible.

"Hello," I smile, in an effort to keep a friendly demeanor despite the palpable tension here. He doesn't say anything in return, and just keeps wiping a glass with a cloth. So, I decide to continue. "Do you have a menu I could take a look at?"

Someone snickers behind me, but I don't turn around.

"We've got stew and bread," he grumbles. "That's it." His gaze avoids direct eye contact.

"Stew sounds good," I reply, deciding to ignore his lack of courtesy.

"Take a seat," he orders.

"Thank you," I smile, as unexpected rebellion stirs inside of me. The more impolite they are to me, I want to reciprocate exactly the opposite.

I take a seat at one of the worn wooden tables, and the innkeeper disappears somewhere in the back. The other people in the inn continue their hushed conversations, their eyes still on me.

After what seems to be a whole eternity, the innkeeper returns with a steaming bowl of stew. He places it before me without a word, the clatter of the bowl on the table breaking the uneasy silence that hangs in the air around us. He still refuses to acknowledge me in any other way, but the stew smells so delicious that I forget all about it.

I start eating as soon as he turns his back to me, and only now do I realize how hungry I've been for a hearty meal. I finish relatively quickly, placing the spoon onto the table. When I lift my gaze, I notice that two men have approached my table, their expressions unreadable. I wonder if that bear mace would work on men as well. I lower my hand to my pocket, feeling the outlines of the small, metal bottle. Its presence comforts me, but only a little.

Suddenly, the two men take their seats at my table, without an invitation. One of the men, his features beaten by the harshness of the wilderness that surrounds this place, clears his throat before speaking.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asks, his tone neutral, but probing.

"No," I reply confidently. "Just passing through."

"Through Pinehaven?" the other one whistles. "There's nothing to see here, girlie. You should have just continued on your merry way."

I can sense an undercurrent of suspicion in those comments, but I choose to respond politely, just like with the innkeeper.

"I plan to," I assure him. "But a girl's gotta eat, no?"

The men exchange a glance, as if a silent conversation passes between them. The atmosphere becomes even more charged, and my entire body shudders. I've eaten, now I can get out of here. That would be the smartest thing to do.

I lift my hand at the innkeeper and do a scribbling gesture in the air, to signal for the bill. He frowns, showing me to go to him.

"Where are you staying, girl?" the first one asks, just as I'm standing up.

I know it's not a good idea to tell him that I'm camping out alone just outside of Pinehaven. You never know what other people have in mind for you. And these two men are anything but trustworthy.

"Like you said, I'm continuing on my merry way," I remind him, pushing the chair against the table which made it scratch against the floor loudly.

"Best thing to do," he nods, clicking his lips in a satisfied manner. "It's not always wise to wander into places you don't know. Pinehaven isn't as welcoming as it used to be."

"I've noticed," I say, biting my tongue as soon as I did so, but it was too late. The look on his face was one of displeasure, as if only they were allowed such snarky remarks, but not me. "If you'll excuse me…" I tell them, turning around and walking over to the innkeeper.

I settle the bill with him, and he receives his payment without a word. However, as I turn to leave, he calls after me.

"Girl!" I turn around, still within earshot of him. "You'd best be on your way. Pinehaven ain't a place for strangers, especially not at night."

"Why?" I ask, meeting his stern gaze.

His eyes narrow at me. "We don't need outsiders stirring trouble around here. It's not safe for a young girl like you, all alone. Best you leave before things take a turn."

I can feel a chill down my spine, but I know better than to argue with such words. I don't press any further, realizing that lingering in Pinehaven might really not be the wisest choice.

I leave the inn and hasten my pace through the village, back where I came from, but a growing sense of unease lingers with me. I feel like I'm being watched, which makes me repeatedly glance over my shoulder. The second time, my suspicions are confirmed. The two men who approached me in the inn are following me. They are still at a safe distance, so I quicken my step even more. But they do the same.

Desperation grips me as I navigate the labyrinthine paths of a village I don't know, in an effort to escape them. I don't want to run back to my camp. The last thing I should do is lead them there. So, I keep leading them in circles, hoping to lose them, but the winding alleys lead me to a dead end, a small, secluded space with no way out. I turn around, my heart racing.

"Well, well," one of the men sneers, with a sinister note to his voice. "What do we have here?"

"I'd say she needs our help, Charlie boy," the other one replies.

"I'm fine," I tell them as confidently as I can, but my entire body is shivering with fear.

"Seems like you got lost, little bird," the first one says again. "We already told you that Pinehaven isn't a place for outsiders, especially ones who don't know how to behave."

The other one chuckles darkly, circling me with an unsettling swagger. "Yes, rather rude of you to speak to us like that. We don't take kindly to outsiders being rude."

I've realized that the danger is only escalating, but I still attempt to keep my fear at bay. "I didn't mean any offense. I'll leave, just… let me go."

Their laughter echoes off the narrow walls, like a haunting soundtrack to my growing fear. I look at one of the men, then at the other one, and realize that they are reveling in the power they have over me. Little by little, they continue to close in on me. They don't want to just intimidate me. No. What they want is much darker than that.

"Leaving won't be enough, little bird," the first man sneers, his words sending a chill down my spine. "We need to make sure you remember not to wander into places you don't belong."

I walk backward, but I hit a wall and I realize there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I'm trapped here, just like a little bird in a cage. Suddenly, I remember my bear mace. My hand dives into my pocket and my fingers wrap around the small metal bottle. I extract it quickly, holding it up as a warning.

"Back off!" I shout as loudly as I can, in hopes that someone might hear me and come to my aid, but that hope soon dies out, because I don't know anyone here. "I'm not afraid to use this!" I shout again.

The men exchange an amused glance, their laughter echoing all around us.

"Oh, look," the first man says, unfazed by the poor excuse of a weapon in my hand. "The little bird thinks she can fight back. Cute."

I maintain a shaky grip on the bottle, as the alley seems to narrow and the shadows close in on me, and the men continue to advance towards me.

"What are you gonna do, spray us with your fancy bear mace?" the other one chuckles. "You're way in over your head, girl."

I might be able to take one of them out. Scratch him, bite him, kick him, buy myself enough time to run past him. But what about the other one? I can't take on two men twice my size. It is then that I face a harrowing realization – it is not the bears I should be afraid of, but rather humans.

"Well, that seems rather unfair, doesn't it?" Suddenly a voice cuts through the darkness, and I see an approaching shadow. "Two grown ass men against a girl. Luckily, I'm here now to even the odds."

The two men turn around and stare Cal straight in the face. I've never been happier to see someone, even if that someone was a stranger to me.

"Now," Cal says, cracking his knuckles, "are you going to let the girl go or are we going to have a problem?"

The two men exchange a meaningful glance, then the first one beckons the other to go, almost as if they were frightened of him.

"Let's go," the man snarls. "She's not worth it."

Cal and I watch them go, and I feel as if a huge weight has just been lifted off of me.

"Quite the welcome, huh?" he grins.

I exhale deeply, but that anxiety is still inside of me, and I doubt it'll leave me as long as I'm here. "Can we just go, please?" I ask, and he turns serious immediately.

"Sure thing," he replies. "Come on. I'll walk you to your campsite."