Most Liked Stories in What If? #1

9/21/2024

Most liked by readers

Intriguing, bone-chilling, heartwarming, and thought-provoking short stories by various genre authors.

Lost in the Woods by Erika M Szabo

The headlights of the police vehicle cut through the gloom, creating ripples of shadow and light through the trees. Officer Angela Devon, a tall, athletic woman in her late twenties pulled up behind the silver car. With the headlights off, it was parked on the side of the winding road that ran through the middle of the dense forest.
“This is Officer Devon, pulling up at the location now,” she spoke into her radio, peering through the windshield. “There is a car here, and according to the GPS locator, the call came from two hundred yards away in the woods.” She said, hoping it was just a prank call made by bored teenagers, but until she knew for sure, she wouldn’t leave. Not if there was even the slightest possibility that someone was in trouble.
“Copy that,” the dispatcher’s voice crackled through the receiver, followed by a short burst of static. “I’ll be on standby if you need backup. Over.”
Angela cut the engine and turned off the headlights. She leaned back against the headrest with a sigh. Without the headlights on, the forest seemed to be closing in on her in the eerie light of the full moon, darkness spilling out through the branches.
She grabbed the flashlight from the glove compartment, switched it on, and then pushed open the driver’s side door and climbed out slamming the car door closed behind her. The large bluish-white beam flooded the trees in front of her, creating ghostly shadows in her peripheral vision.
She really did not want to be there, but she was the only officer on duty who had been able to answer the call. Her partner’s wife went into labor, and nobody was available to take his place for the night shift. In their small town, way up in the mountains, and a small department with only a handful of officers, it wasn’t unusual for the officers to answer calls alone.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Angela muttered under her breath.
The 911 call that had come in had been an odd one, to say the least. A woman crying for help, saying she was being followed by someone she couldn’t see. In the background, the operator could hear footsteps thudding in the distance, and heavy breathing, but that was all. The phone went silent before she could give a location, but they had managed to trace the area where the call had been made. In the forest by a country road a few miles from town, the caller identified herself as Bella Mason, a twenty-four-year-old clerk at the local hotel. Why would a young woman be out here alone, in the middle of the night? Perhaps meeting someone in secret, Angela thought, and only hoped she’d lost her phone, and whoever found it made the prank call, rather than being anything serious.
Hefting her flashlight into the other hand, she made sure she had her radio, taser, and Glock within reach and stepped into the forest.
Given that the location had been out of town, and it had taken twenty minutes to get there, Angela had no idea where the woman might be. She was only one person, and she wouldn’t be able to search the entire forest on her own, but she would do her best to follow any tracks that she could find. She wouldn’t leave until she was confident nothing bad had taken place.
Twigs and underbrush crunched under her feet as she moved between the trees, shining her flashlight in a wide arc. Bugs flitted around her, attracted by the glow, but she paid them no mind, other than occasionally brushing a mosquito off her cheek. Despite the cool night, it was humid beneath the canopy of trees, and a bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck, making the collar of her uniform stick to her skin.
The woman on the phone had raggedly gasped out ‘Bella Mason’ when the operator had asked for her name, so that’s what Angela began to call out, her voice echoing through the forest.
“Bella Mason! I’m a police officer responding to your 911 call.”
She winced when the sound bounced between the trees, the echo growing strange and distorted. She didn’t like the thought of attracting the attention of anyone—or anything—that might be hiding in the shadows, but there was no other way she could go about it. She had to hope that Bella heard her somehow and could give Angela a clue as to where she was.
Seriously though, what was she doing out here in the middle of the night?
“Bella! Bella, are you out here?” She continued to call out as she traversed through the trees, brushing branches and silky moth wings out of her face. “Bella! It’s the police. I’m here to help.”
Nearing the approximate spot where the call came from, the deeper into the forest she went, the quieter it got. She could no longer hear the sound of small rodents and insects scurrying in the undergrowth, or nightbirds ruffling their feathers high up in the trees. Even the wind had fallen still, no longer rustling the leaves. There was only her own labored breathing, and the soft crunch of her boots against the fallen twigs on the ground.
It was almost like walking in the graveyard at night. Everything was so still, so quiet. Angela felt nervous about disturbing the silence, but she quickly shook that thought away. She was there to answer a distress call, which meant she had a job to do.
She cleared her throat and wiped away the perspiration that beaded her forehead. “Bella! If you can hear me, please answer.”
As the echo faded into silence, Angela thought she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. Soft, spongy, like someone walking barefoot in the sand.
She turned, swinging her flashlight in the direction of the noise. “Bella? Is that you?”
She saw a fleeting shadow by a wide tree from the corner of her eye, and Angela felt a shiver of fear twisting her stomach. If it was Bella, she would have answered. Had I merely imagined it? “Who’s there?” She croaked out the words, and suddenly, her mouth and throat felt dry. She swallowed hard and felt the flashlight slipping from the sweat that was accumulating in her palms.
Get a grip, there’s nobody out here but me and perhaps Bella, if it’s not a prank. And don’t be a scaredy cat. Your eyes just played a trick on you with that shadow.
When it was clear there was nobody there, Angela turned around and continued walking, though now the darkness and fluctuation of light from her flashlight was making her disoriented, and she couldn’t remember which way the road was.
“Don’t get lost now,” she muttered and debated calling for backup but decided against it. The station was short-staffed as it was, and she didn’t want to rob the town of help if a real emergency occurred. She could handle this on her own.
She paused for a minute and took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She probably should have come up with a plan before charging blindly into the forest, but she didn’t normally have to deal with calls like this without her partner, and she felt a little out of her depth.
Trying to think rationally, she asked herself the question: If Bella thought she was being followed, what would she do?
Running was the first answer. If she could find a place somewhere safe, then she would probably hide. But where was there to hide in a forest like this?
Angela looked around, shining her flashlight over the ground. If she ran, there would be traces. Footprints. The ground was spongy and damp, and when Angela looked behind her, she could see evidence of her own boots treading through the soil. If Bella had run through here, there would be footprints left behind. She just had to find them. She was so wrapped up in her trail of thought that she barely noticed she was no longer alone.
Continue reading in the book HERE

She Waits by Lorraine Carey

The sun was just about to set as eight-year-old Mary Jane Eden watched its golden rays spread over the azure waters surrounding Grand Cayman as if to illuminate and warm the sea. She smiled and felt at ease as she sat in her weather-beaten rocker on the second floor of Pedro St. James Castle. It had the best views on the island—it always did, that was until it had fallen into ruin in the 1950s. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky this late September evening. The mahogany wooden floor creaked as she rocked back and forth. The grounds people had left for the day—she knew their routine, after all, she’d been here since 1877. Since that time, she was bound to the property when she was struck by lightning on the steps of the plantation house as she and her brother went to fetch water in some buckets.
Before that, the castle was one of Grand Cayman’s most important historical properties, a place where democracy had taken place back in 1831 and later the governor of Jamaica had proclaimed the end of slavery in the British Empire. The three-story structure resembled that of a plantation solidly built with stone walls 18 inches thick. It was originally built by slaves and William Eden and his family resided there until his daughter was killed by a freak lightning strike during a tropical storm. It was then the family decided to move, leaving the castle to be later occupied as a bar and a restaurant, but only to become victim to two mysterious fires. The seven-and-a-half-acre property is surrounded by colorful bougainvillea and opulent poinciana trees.
The tourists had been sparse lately and Mary Jane wondered who would show up tomorrow. Maybe someone who would want to stay, maybe stay longer than the usual tour. Every day gave her new hope.
She wandered around the three-tier plantation checking to see if anyone was still there. She peered out of the thick louvered shutters once again checking the night sky for any hint of a storm. She went from room to room twirling around in her long white tattered dress. She decided to sit on the wooden rocking horse in one of the main bedrooms. It was a special gift she treasured from her father one Christmas. She rocked away until she became very sleepy.
***
“Now please, please, stay with your guide,” Mrs. Taylor urged. “If you get lost then it will reflect on Grand Island Elementary and we’ll never get an invitation to come back to visit,” she said, her tone firm.
She had been taking her sixth-grade class to Pedro St. James Castle for the past seven years on a field trip. It was scheduled every year by the principal urging local students and expat parents to work on the island to learn the history of the structure.
Mrs. Taylor tried to settle her students in hopes of gaining their interest, instead of posting videos on social media.
“Students, as you know in 1831 this island signed its first democracy papers and the government had been formed,” raved a tall elderly man who was the main docent for the tour. “My name is Mr. Dalton. You will first watch a movie on the history of the castle in our large theater room and then we will begin our live tour. And please remember to have your phones muted or turned off during the presentation.”
The students were all seated in the theater then the lights went out. There was only blackness as the big screen rolled down from the ceiling. A few of Mrs. Taylor’s students began to scream, but it was mostly the girls.
“Ssh!” Mrs. Taylor hissed, putting her finger up to her lips.
“But, Mrs. Taylor, I’m scared, and I don’t like this place!” Jessa Franklin said, clinging to her teacher’s arm.
Dana Benson had her arm around Jessa, being they had been best friends since first grade. “It’s okay, Jessa. It’s just a movie.”
“I can walk her outside, Mrs. Taylor,” offered one of the parent volunteers.
“I’ll be okay, Mrs. Taylor,” Jessa said softly. “I’m going to be brave.”
“The movie will be over soon and then we’ll be out in the sunshine,” Mrs. Taylor assured. “You’ll feel better then.”
The movie began with the portrayal of the beautiful grounds that surrounded the castle as Robert Thompson, the governor from Jamaica held court inside where he issued a proclamation that ended slavery in the British Empire. Outside dark skies rolled in and thunder boomed as a fleet of pirate ships came ashore only to be met with an intense thunderstorm that now caused the castle to be shed in an eerie light. The loud booms caused the entire theater room to vibrate due to a state-of-the-art surround sound system. A misting system had been activated to sprinkle its audience giving them the full effect of the storm, not to mention the musty smell of a damp theater.
A voice echoed from the speakers, “What you are about to see is not for the faint of heart.”
Jessa grabbed Dana’s arm tightly. “I’m going to cover my eyes.”
A frightening portrayal of the storm that had taken the life of Mary Jane Eden, the daughter of William had commenced. Most of the students were silent as they watched bolts of lightning strike the child on the steps of the bottom landing as she and her brother attempted to fill buckets of rainwater.
When the movie screen rolled up, the lights came back on and everyone clapped, especially Jessa.
“Okay, students, now that you know the history of the plantation you’ll get a tour from our guides, Mr. Dalton informed.
“I’m glad, that’s over,” Jessa sighed as she wiped the sweat off her forehead while they walked outside. The bright sunlight hit their faces like a strobe light causing the students to squint. Jessa wasn’t the only one who was glad to be outside as the other students spoke of being spooked in the theater.
“Mrs. Taylor, can I use the restroom?” asked Dante Reed, the class troublemaker and attention seeker.
“Sure, and you know, I think we’ll all take a break before heading on with the tour. Please stay with your group. We’ll meet out by the main house when you’re done,” the middle-aged teacher said while pulling her long brown hair up into a high bun. She wiped the back of her neck with a handkerchief.
“Ya know, Dana, for some reason this place really gives me the creeps. Do you believe the stories about the slaves they kept in the basement and all the strange things that went on here?” Jessa asked while scanning over the lush grounds.
“Yeah, and I kinda like it,” Dana confessed as she smoothed her long black hair in the bathroom mirror. “I especially like the story of how the Eden family moved out right after their daughter was struck by lightning on the stairs in 1835, not to mention how pirates lived here as well.”
“You’re weird, girlfriend!” Jessa shook her head. “I can’t figure you out.”
“No, I just love old places, and I’ve been here before with my mom. There’s something about this place. It makes me feel good in a weird sort of way.”
“Well, it makes me feel sick,” Jessa had her hand on her stomach.
The students gathered at the front of the steps to the main house as they listened to each tour guide give specific instructions.
“Some of the rooms have been sealed off due to preservation,” announced Mrs. Kline, who was dressed as a former housekeeper from the 1800s in traditional Caymanian style. She wore a long, red-checkered dress, a white apron, and a scarf tied around her head.
Mrs. Kline explained to the children to respect and not touch any of the items on display. They were authentic and actually some of the original toys that had belonged to Mary Jane, daughter of the Eden family.
Mrs. Taylor had a tight hold of Dante Reed’s arm. She knew he could be a handful and was well aware of his antics on previous field trips. She wasn’t about to let him spoil this particular trip.
Jessa and Dana were fortunately in the same group. They followed Mrs. Kline up the steps to the first level where the original kitchen was and then a larger room with a long wooden dining room table.
“Would you look at this wooden table!” Dana squealed. “It’s the most beautiful mahogany I’ve ever seen! I wish I could run my hands over that wood.”
“Yeah, I’m looking at it all right,” Jessa mumbled. “And I wouldn’t even think of touching it!”
“You’re still afraid, aren’t you?”
“Just a bit. It’s better now that we got out of that dark movie room,” Jessa replied, rubbing her arms to erase the goosebumps that she still had.
“Just try to relax and enjoy yourself.” Dana put her arm around her best friend. “We’re gonna get some good shots to post on TikTok later. We’ll get so many hits.”
“Well, that doesn’t exactly make me feel better, to tell you the truth.”
As they now made it up to the second level veranda a slight breeze picked up carrying the fruity scent from the red frangipanis that were abundant throughout the grounds. It was a refreshing break from the heat of the midday island sun. It blew a few strands from Jessa’s auburn hair into her eyes. As she brushed them away with her hand, she noticed the rocking chair at the end of the veranda was moving.
She pulled Dan’s arm. “Look! The rocking chair— it’s moving!” Jessa shouted.
Continue reading in the book HERE

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