Missing Persons
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“Bernadette turned. Tiny handprints fogged the glass —six, maybe seven of them. And just beyond, in the red glow of the taillights, something crouched low to the ground. Pale. Watching. ‘Damian,’ she whispered, ‘there’s a man in the woods…’ But when she turned back— he was gone.”
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The footage began with wind. Not a strong gust—just a soft, rhythmic howling, like something breathing through a plastic tube. The image flickered. Static. Then: a slide. Bright red. Covered in dew. Calvin Reece’s voice was shaky but clear. “I, Calvin Reece, am recording this in case I don’t come back.” The camcorder jostled. A…
Rose Red Snow White 