Dawn to Dusk
by Molly Gaines

The only light was shining from the moon and a singular streetlight, which could barely be made out through the trees in the distance. Gravel crunched so loudly under my feet that it seemed deafening, and the only other sound was the constant hum of cicadas that created a suffocating blanket of white noise. As I made my way through the pitch black I wondered how somewhere so close to campus, within feet of a main building and so many students, could seem so all encompassing and desolate. I figured it was a figment of my imagination and that I was just manifesting an invisible threat and adding to my own anxiety. I told myself that the trail had been designed to inspire peaceful thoughts, provoke tranquil feelings and as a convenient cut-through to the back parking lot. These logical thoughts helped to push some of my uneasiness aside and I tried to focus on that as I continued my walk along the trail.

Winding paths lined with sectioned logs and surrounded by collapsed and rotting vegetation lead to several small clearings. Placed strategically inside of the clearings are several stone structures with surrounding pieces of wood. As I passed each clustered area, the purpose of the structures perplexed me. The wood stumps and make-shift benches were placed around the stones as if they were tables. I got the impression that they would not make an ideal table because of the uneven surface, short height, and lack of leg space underneath. Did they have another purpose and why were they such an odd shape? Did we not have anything better to dedicate our funding to? Just as I was delving into the rabbit hole that my preoccupied mind can turn in to, I heard an unfamiliar noise coming from the opposite end of the trail. Before my mind could register the noise as being out of place, an odd thought popped into my mind. Those structures look exactly like altars. The kind you see in horror movies that are used to make the sacrificial offerings, human sacrificial offerings. I scoffed at the idea and thought the only thing being sacrificed was my tuition money.

I realized that the strange noise had continued and I was still unable to place it. The noise sounded something like a horse, decked out in bells, dragging a lame leg, but softer. Jingle, Jingle, clip, clop, draggggg. Clip, clop, jingle, draggggg. My breath got caught in my throat as I started to mentally list the reasons why no one else should be on the trail at that time of night. The cicadas had fallen silent and the sound of them was replaced by my heart beating wildly in my chest. My upper lip began to sweat and I could hear the blood rush through my ears as the sound grew closer, louder. The realization that I may be in actual, real life danger froze me in my tracks.

I considered running back the way I had come. I thought about pulling out my penknife and trying to put up a fight. I had already imagined a million gruesome ways in which this creature had ended my life, and it seemed like an eternity before I was able to move again. Just as the noise reached me and began to round the corner, I threw up my arms and started to frantically swing them in the darkness. “Officer report back,” crackled from a radio and a stunned security guard, with a broken leg and crutches, stared wide-eyed at me. The keys on his belt jingled, as he nervously adjusted his belt.

I let out a yelp of surprise and maniacal laugh that echoed off the trees and into the night. He seemed to be as surprised as I was and without missing a beat he said “Hey! The trail is only open from dawn to dusk. It’s not safe to walk through here after that.” I managed to croak out a thank you and wobbly continued to my car. As I stepped out of the tree line and into the clearing of the parking lot, I shook my head at my own stupid paranoia. I could feel my cheeks burning and the cold sharp sting of my sweat-soaked shirt. I glanced down into my purse to grab my keys and that’s when I felt the bright white pain of something crashing into my skull. I only remember that the already dark night faded away completely, into nothing.

When I wake the pain from my head is so horrendous that I can feel myself begin to vomit. I open my eyes and the agony increases tenfold. All I can see are stars blinking against the ink of the sky and I force myself to think coherently. Where am I? What has happened? How long have I been here? I cannot remember details and manage to lose consciousness again. When I come to, I struggle to put together a series of events. The sound, the security guard and his broken leg, then what? I need to establish my surroundings. I sap all of my strength to lift my neck up and look around. The place seems familiar and strange at the same time. There are stone structures and wooden seats exactly like the trail on campus but we seem to be in an underground chamber or cave. There are candles and lanterns lit and I am chained to one of the stone structures. Around my stone, carved into the dirt, is some type of drawing and words in a language that I can’t understand. This stone doesn’t seem entirely different than the others except the thick covering of blood on the top. A deep, sinking feeling takes over me and the last thing I hear is the jingle of keys.