Night Encounter
Aviana
“And exhale,” Dr. Flores instructs, his calm voice cutting through the still air of the gym, now transformed into his yoga studio.
A collective breath escapes from the class, a medley of whistles and sighs filling the room.
“And that’s it for today. Thank you for your time. I’ll see you all again in a couple of days. Now, go onto your next class, go exploring, take a nap—do whatever your heart desires.” Dr. Flores says, his weathered face betraying the wisdom of a thousand sun salutations.
It’s a beautiful day, too perfect to waste indoors, so I decide to seize the moment and go for a hike since I don’t have anything planned until my session with Dr. Brenner later. Or at least, that was the plan—until I collide with a wall—or rather, a chest.
Looking up, I realize it’s him .
“Why does this keep happening to me?” I mutter under my breath, stepping back.
“Dr. Brenner, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I was just excited to go for a hike with this glorious weather and was rushing.” I stammer, embarrassed.
“No need to apologize,” he replies with an easy smile. “How about I join you? The trails are beautiful this time of day.”
I hesitate, glancing at him. “I’ll see you later anyway for our session,” I say, trying to make it clear I don’t need company now.
As we start walking, the crunch of rocks beneath our feet fills the silence for a beat before he glances over at me.
“How are you adjusting here at the retreat?” he says, a lightness in his tone.
I smile. “It’s fine.”
He chuckles. “As a therapist, I know that is not a real answer.”
I just glance at him with a smile. It is the most real answer he will be getting from me.
We fall quiet again, but it feels easier now, more comfortable.
“So—”
“Avi—”
We both speak at once, breaking into a soft chuckle.
“You first, Dr. Brenner,” I say, gesturing for him to continue.
“Cade,” he corrects. “Please, just call me Cade. And stop apologizing so much.”
I grin sheepishly. “Alright,” pausing. “Cade. What were you going to say?”
He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been thinking about your schedule, and I’d like to propose a slight change. I want to incorporate morning and evening sessions with you, if that’s alright.”
My brow furrows. “Morning and evening sessions? Why?”
He looks at me earnestly. “I believe the structure and routine could really help you. The mornings are a good time to set intentions for the day, and the evening sessions will give you a chance to reflect, process, and unwind. Plus, I’d like to do one session at the peak—more of a meditation session, in nature, so you can really clear your mind. I think it could be incredibly beneficial for you.”
I hesitate, considering it. “I’m not sure… that’s a lot of time. I was planning on having some time to rest and be alone in my schedule.”
“I understand,” he says quickly, his voice steady. “But the extra sessions will be tailored to you—nothing too intense, just an opportunity to dig deeper, especially with the natural surroundings. That meditation session at the peak will help ground you in a way the others can’t.”
I sigh, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. “Alright, I’ll give it a try,” I say finally, though a small part of me wonders how much it will really change. “I’ll see you later for the first evening session, then?”
“Exactly,” he says, offering a reassuring smile. “Meet me at the trail after dinner. We’ll start with the evening session, and then tomorrow we’ll head to the peak for that meditation session.”
“I’ll see you later, then, Dr. Bren… ummm, Cade,” I reply, giving him a small smile before we part ways.
Back at my cabin after a long walk, I reach for the door—only to pause. A small note is taped just below the handle, the paper fluttering slightly in the evening breeze.
Frowning, I peel it off and unfold it.
Be cautious of Dr. Cade Brenner. He is not trustworthy. Stay away from him.
A cold shiver crawls up my spine. My eyes dart around the dimming landscape, scanning the trees, the path, the shadows stretching across the retreat grounds. But there’s no one there. No sign of who left this warning.
Swallowing hard, I step inside and lock the door behind me. I stare at the note, my mind racing. Who wrote this? And why are they so certain I shouldn’t trust Cade?
***
Dinner passes uneventfully, though I can’t shake the sensation of being watched. As I clear my tray, my eyes sweep the room, searching for the source of my unease. There are plenty of glances in my direction, but none that feel particularly threatening. Still, the feeling lingers.
I turn back around—and nearly collide with Cade. He stands too close, his easy smile in place, but there’s something unreadable in his gaze.
“Ready for our evening session?” he asks, his voice smooth .
I hesitate. The note flashes in my mind, stark and chilling. Be cautious of Dr. Cade Brenner. He is not trustworthy. Stay away from him.
“I just need to grab a few things from my cabin first,” I say quickly. “My water bottle, my map… oh, and my phone.” Knowing my phone will be of no use, I make excuses.
His smile falters, just for a split second, before he nods. “Of course. I’ll wait for you outside.”
I turn away before he can say anything else, keeping my steps measured, even. My pulse beats wildly in my throat. The note had been a warning. And suddenly, I can’t tell if I should be more afraid of what I don’t know about Cade—or the fact that someone thought I needed protecting from him.
***
The trail head is empty when I arrive. Cade is nowhere to be seen, even after I wait for ten minutes.
Frustrated but unwilling to waste the opportunity of a night walk, I decide to head out anyway. The cool night air wraps around me as I step onto the trail, my footsteps quiet against the dirt path. The sky is dark, speckled with stars, and for a moment, I let myself breathe, trying to shake the unease still lingering in my chest.
But my mind keeps circling back to Cade. He said he would be waiting for me outside, yet he is nowhere to be seen. Had he gotten tired of waiting? Given up on the session entirely?
A part of me is relieved. The other part can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.
The evening air is crisp, the sky painted in deep purples and oranges as night descends. The quiet is almost unnerving, broken only by the buzz of insects and distant bird calls.
Then I hear it—a twig snapping.
“Hello?” I call out, my voice trembling.
Silence.
“Who’s there?”
Another snap, closer this time. My heart pounds as I scan the shadows. A figure emerges at the top of the trail, tall and unmoving.
“Cade?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
The figure doesn’t respond.
Panic rises in my chest. My hand fumbles for my phone, but before I can call for help, the figure starts moving toward me—fast.
“Move, Aviana,” I whisper to myself, but my feet feel rooted in place.
“That’s right, Little Bird. Run,” a distorted, robotic voice taunts.
The nickname sends a jolt of terror through me. Little Bird . Why does that make me feel terrified yet comforted at the same time?
I force my legs to move, sprinting down the trail with no clear direction. The figure is behind me, gaining ground.
“Keep running,” the voice taunts, smooth and laced with anticipation. “You’ll be the perfect girl for me once I catch you.”
Thinking to myself, it can’t be him. It can’t be Mr. Widlow. He always called me his perfect girl.There is no way he knows where I am. I am hundreds of miles from where he was last known to be.
I hear a robotic voice singsong “Ready or not here I co -,”
Branches scrape my arms as I veer off the path, desperate to lose him. The air grows thick with the sickly sweet scent of foxgloves.
“No,” I gasp, my vision starting to blur.
“Avi, no!” A voice pierces through the haze. “Avi? Oh shit, Aviana please you have to wake up. Dammit, foxgloves. Why did you have to run into the patch of foxgloves?”
“Wha-?”
“Avi, Little Bird, you’re safe. I have you.”
“Who are you?”
The last thing I see is a masked figure leaning over me, dark eyes staring into mine.
“Nightshade,” he whispers before everything goes black.