Whispers of the Turning Seasons (part 25)

The lantern swung gently from the branch, its warm glow painting the snow beneath it in trembling circles of gold.

Evelyn’s breath puffed in short, uneven clouds as she stared at it—
the same lantern that once hung beside the nursery door, lighting her childhood nights with a soft amber glow.

But now it looked different.
Wrong.
Like a relic pulled from a grave.

Rowan scanned the area carefully.

“No tracks leading to it,” he murmured. “Not fresh ones, anyway.”

Ellis added, “He hung it here hours ago—maybe earlier in the day.”

Evelyn stepped closer.
The lantern creaked, swaying.
She reached out, fingertips brushing its cold metal frame.

A memory flashed—
the woman humming beside her bed, lantern casting soft shadows across the nursery walls…
and a silhouette standing outside the door.

Tall.
Still.
Watching.

Evelyn jerked her hand back.

“Evelyn?” Rowan said softly.

She shook her head.
“I’m okay. Just—memories.”

Ellis stepped around the tree, shining her flashlight in careful arcs.

“Whatever he wants you to remember, this is his way of pulling it out. Piece by piece.”

Evelyn swallowed.

“I want to stop remembering.”

Rowan met her eyes.

“No. You need to. Because whatever he’s planning—your past is the key.”

Evelyn hated that he was right.


---

The Hidden Message

Rowan lifted the lantern down carefully.

“There’s something inside.”

He opened the small glass door.

Inside was a folded card—
old, edges burnt, handwriting shaky.

Evelyn’s stomach clenched.

Rowan handed it to her, letting her open it herself.

She unfolded it slowly.

Inside—
a drawing.

Childlike.
Crayon.
Two figures.

A girl in a red coat.
A tall figure next to her, holding her hand.

But the face of the tall figure was scribbled out violently.

Beneath the drawing was a sentence:

“You forgot me.”

Evelyn pressed a hand to her chest.

Her pulse hammered.

Rowan whispered, “He’s sending you your own drawings.”

Ellis added, “Ones he kept. Ones he took.”

Took.

Evelyn felt dizzy.

“Wait,” she whispered. “If he has these drawings… then he was inside the nursery before the fire.”

Rowan nodded grimly.

“And if he was inside before, he could’ve been around for months. Years. Long enough to feel like—”

“—he belonged there,” Ellis finished.

Evelyn felt sick.

“Why would he want to be part of our lives?”

Ellis exhaled slowly.

“He wasn’t trying to be part of your lives, Evelyn.
He was trying to take them.”


---

The Branch Snaps

A sudden crack echoed through the trees—
sharp, close, unmistakable.

Rowan’s weapon was drawn instantly.

“Down!” he hissed.

Evelyn ducked behind the tree as Ellis lowered into a defensive crouch.

Snowflakes drifted silently, but the forest itself seemed to hold its breath.

Another crack.
To the left.

Rowan motioned for the group to form a triangle—protecting Evelyn in the center.

Evelyn’s heart thundered.

“Is he here?” she whispered.

Rowan’s jaw clenched.

“Yes.”

The forest was silent again.

Too silent.

Then—
a low whistle.

The lullaby.

Slow.
Mocking.
Echoing between the trees.

Evelyn’s eyes filled with tears.

“That song,” she whispered. “Why that song? Why always that one?”

Rowan didn’t answer immediately.

Then, with a quiet hardness, he said:

“Because he wants you to feel small again.
Helpless.
Reachable.”

Ellis scanned the treetops.

“He’s trying to trigger you. He’s controlling the pace.”

The whistling moved—
not closer…
but circling.

Around them.
Encircling the trio like a predator toying with its prey.

Evelyn grabbed Rowan’s arm, voice shaking.

“He’s hunting us.”

Rowan shook his head.

“No. He’s hunting you.”


---

The Shadow Behind the Lantern Light

Snow shifted behind them.

Evelyn turned—
and saw it.

A silhouette.

Tall.
Still.
Standing just at the edge of the lantern’s dying light.

Her breath caught in her throat.

His face was hidden by shadows, but she could see—

A coat.
Dark. Heavy.
Snow collecting on the shoulders.

Long hair pushed back behind his ears.

Boots half-buried in the snow.

He didn’t move.
He didn’t run.
He didn’t approach.

He stood there…
like he’d been waiting for her to turn around.

Rowan stepped in front of Evelyn, gun raised.

“DON’T MOVE!”

The figure remained perfectly still.

Ellis shouted:

“Hands where we can see them!”

Nothing.

No movement.

No reaction.

As if the figure wasn’t afraid at all.

Evelyn whispered, “Why isn’t he scared?”

Rowan didn’t take his eyes off the man.

“Because fear is for prey.”

The figure slowly lifted his head—
revealing only a faint smile in the shadow.

Then—

A single blink.

And he stepped backward into darkness.

Vanishing as if the forest swallowed him whole.

Rowan sprinted forward.

“STOP!”

Ellis chased after him.

Evelyn stood frozen, unable to breathe.


---

The Discovery in the Snow

Rowan returned moments later—frustrated, panting, empty-handed.

“He’s gone. No tracks. No direction. He just—disappeared.”

Ellis shook her head in disbelief.

“Nobody vanishes that fast. He’s using the trees. High ground. He’s trained.”

Rowan glared into the darkness.

“He’s playing with us.”

Evelyn sank to her knees.

“Why? What does he want from me?”

There was no answer.

Only the quiet whisper of the snow.

Then Rowan noticed something near where the man had stood.

“Evelyn…” his voice softened. “Come see this.”

She walked to him, legs trembling.

In the snow, partially melted from body heat, was a single item:

A music box.

Her music box.
The one from the basement.
The one the boy had carried.

Except now—
it was open.

And the inside was empty.

The melody mechanism had been removed.

Evelyn felt her heart stop.

“He took the song,” she whispered.

Rowan looked at her.

“No… he claimed it.”

Ellis’s voice lowered to a near growl.

“He left the box as a message. He took the part that matters.”

Evelyn staggered back.

“What does that mean?”

Rowan answered with a grim quiet:

“It means he’s not finished.”