𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬
𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲
𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟔

from the eyes of
— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 —

Hours passed by—terrible long hours with only my thoughts and the lonely creepy forest around.

The Appalachian was not known as the creepiest mountain range in all of America for no reason. And that was only proven seeing as it felt like the literal trees were watching me.

It felt like I was walking through the pages of every ghost story and horror movie I'd ever heard. I liked a good horror story, but I never wished to find myself in one. Especially the extra creepy Earth ones that take place in a forest. Give me something in space, at least.

The trees were massive, towering above me like ancient sentinels, their dark trunks twisted in ways that looked unnatural. Every so often, a faint breeze would whisper through the forest, sending the branches creaking and groaning like they were sharing secrets I wasn't meant to hear.

It didn't help that the Appalachians came with their own brand of folklore.

People told stories about the kinds of things that roamed these mountains. There were tales about shadowy figures that could mimic voices to lure you into the woods. People talked about strange lights appearing at night, leading hikers off the trails, never to be seen again. And then there were the creatures—monsters with glowing eyes, razor-sharp teeth, and an appetite for anything unlucky enough to cross their paths.

I'd even stumbled across one story a while back about the "staircase" that randomly appeared deep in the forest that led to nowhere. People said stepping on those stairs would curse you, or worse, take you somewhere terrible that no one could come back from. Not even the TARDIS would be able to find me.

The thought made me shiver.

Back on my Earth, my home—an alternate version of Kentucky in an alternate version of reality, nobody had time for creepy folklore. My world had been unraveling at the seams, falling apart so quickly and so chaotically that ghost stories were laughably low on the priority list. Nobody cared about the "boogeymen" in the woods when the sky was threatening to rip open and swallow entire cities.

But here? With the forest pressing in around me and shadows that seemed to move in the corners of my vision? Yeah. Here, those stories felt real. Too real.

I hated how unsettled I felt. Fear wasn't something that I was used to anymore, not with everything that life liked to throw at me. Okay, fine, that's a lie, I always feel fear; but now, I am just a professional at ignoring it. I feel fear but I am not afraid.

But there was something about the oppressive quiet of this place that gnawed at me. My footsteps barely made a sound against the forest floor, and every so often, I caught myself glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting to see glowing eyes staring back at me.

And it was fucking bright daylight out—I can't imagine how this place looks and feels in the dark of the night.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing I had to worry about. My stomach twisted into knots as I thought about the colossal mistake I'd made. I'd left my backpack and Vortex Manipulator in the TARDIS. What kind of idiot does that? That backpack was my lifeline. It was my safety net, my purpose, my one guarantee of getting out of any bad situation. And now? I was stuck here, in the middle of nowhere, without it.

"You know better," I muttered to myself, my voice barely above a whisper. "You know better than to leave the one thing that you always need behind..."

I let out a sharp, frustrated breath and kicked at a rock, sending it skittering across the forest floor. This was so unlike me. I was supposed to be careful. Calculated. The kind of person who always had a backup plan. But here I was, stranded in the Appalachian Mountains without any way to call for help. I knew the Doctor would come for me, but the question was when.

He wasn't exactly known for his punctuality. He could show up in the next ten minutes, or I could be waiting here for ten years. And, honestly, the thought of being stuck here for that long was more terrifying than any monster lurking in the woods.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away, and focused on the sound of running water in the distance. A creek. Finally, something good. I picked up my pace, weaving through the trees until I spotted it—a clear, bubbling stream that looked clean enough to drink from.

Dropping to my knees, I leaned over the water, cupping my hands to take a drink. The coolness of it felt amazing on my skin, and I could already imagine how much better I'd feel once I wasn't parched.

But before I could even lift the water to my lips, there was a sudden rustling behind me. I froze. My first thought was animal. My second thought was not an animal. Before I could do anything else, three people burst out of the trees, surrounding me in an instant.

"What the—" I started, but they were already talking over me, their voices chaotic and frantic.

"She's gotta be one of them!" A guy with dark hair and caramelized skin said, his eyes wide and darting around.

"Are you one of the missing people?" A girl with messy blonde hair asked, her voice panicked.

"Where's everyone else?!" Another man, taller and burlier and paler demanded.

"Who's doing this?!" The girl added, stepping closer.

"Were you kidnapped too? How long have you been out here?"

"What's your name?"

"Who are you?"

They fired question after question, their voices rising in a chaotic crescendo until I finally snapped.

"SHUT UP!" I yelled, pushing myself to my feet and throwing my hands out. "Just—shut up! Who are you people?"

The sudden outburst worked. They all went silent, staring at me with wide, startled eyes. For a moment, the only sound was the creek bubbling behind me and the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. Then, after a pause, the tall, sturdy man with strawberry-blonde hair stepped forward. He looked me up and down, his brow furrowed in suspicion.

"I'm Zachary," He said, his voice calm but firm. "And I'm getting the feeling you haven't been kidnapped."

He tilted his head slightly, waiting for my response, but all I could do was stare at him. Kidnapped? Missing people? What the hell?

"No," I said carelessly, looking around the forest with mountains looming in every which direction. "Can't say I have been... lately..." I hummed.

"Fucking hell!" The woman cried out. "Then what're you doing out here? Everyone knows to stay away from the woods—staying in town is the safest it gets!" She was almost nagging me.

I tilted my head, raising a curious brow at her.

The other man, not the strawberry blonde, the one with dark hair stepped forward. He held up a hand at the woman as though telling her to back off.

"Hold on, Ellery, she might be out doing the same as us..." He told her before turning to me. "Are you looking for someone too?"

I stared at him for a long moment. "No."

Now he looked confused.

The other man stepped forward. "Then what the hell are you doing out here?" He asked me gruffly. "Ellery is right—it's not safe to be in these woods, let alone by yourself..."

Lying came like second nature to me, but at this moment, I chose not to lie. Well, not lie much AKA, I won't tell an absurd additional fabrication to what I've already been telling people in this universe.

"I travel with a goofy and chaotic bowtie-wearing alien man who is too good for this universe. A few hours ago I tried to pilot his spaceship-slash-time-machine, but I guess I pressed the yellow button instead of the green one and now I am stranded here..." I told them all straight-up while looking around. "I hate it here..."

They all stared at me blankly for a few moments before the woman let out a loud and sarcastic laugh, throwing her head backward. "Great! So you're insane! Maybe she has been kidnapped and escaped and is now experiencing a psychotic break..." She told the others, voice turning dead-ass. "We need to get her to a doctor..."

Indeed, I do need the Doctor.

"I am being a thousand percent serious..." I huffed in response.

"Ellery—" One of the men started only for me to cut them off.

"But don't worry, before I got tossed outta the TARDIS, I saw that this is somewhere in Kentucky, in the Appalachian, right? I was born in Louisville... so more south, I suppose..." I hummed, not bothering to mention that it was an alternate Kentucky from this one that I was born in.

"Louiseville? That explains everything..." The dark-haired man laughed genuinely. "Y'all folks from Louisville are insane..." He spoke, voice lilted with a deep Southern twang as the others voices were too. "But why do you sound like you've been Californified?"

"I travel a lot, and if anything I have been Chicagofied..." I defended, crossing my arms. "Or Britishified? Is that a word? I don't know—the alien I'm traveling with sounds British and his two other human companions are British... well the girl is Scottish, but same difference if you ask me..." I rambled.

The man smiled at me. "Oh, yep, I stand corrected, I really hear it now. That quick and mean American city-goer dialect... you definitely not British though..."

I scoffed, trying to hide the smile threatening to appear. "Well, I can't say I like sounding like a Southern hick..."

He clicked his tongue, his words coming deep and drawled. "Southern hick? Or Southern gentleman?"

"Try Southern Belle..." I threw right back.

"Please stop," Ellery pinched the bridge of her nose.

The other man—the strawberry blonde who appeared the oldest out of all of us, physically at least, stepped forward while reaching into his backpack. He pulled out of a large water bottle and handed it to me.

He may have appeared the oldest, somewhere in his mid-30s—but I knew he was not the oldest. That title, unfortunately, belonged to me.

Ah, what I would do to be a young and spry 37-year-old again...

Then again, being eternally 27 was a good sub.

"Here, I imagine that you're thirsty..." He told me kindly.

Ellery reached into her own bag and pulled out a granola bar—she gently handed it to me and I took it from her happily. She was much shorter than myself, but still sturdy and strong-looking.

"Hopefully this clears up your head, crazy lady," She easily said and I snorted at her words.

The water felt good—it soothed my throat as I hurriedly drank it, not realizing just how thirsty I was until now. I suppose falling to the ground and using the knockoff version of 'the force' will do that to you.

The cool liquid was a welcome distraction from the gnawing unease settling in my chest. The granola bar was next—I unwrapped it quickly, the plastic crinkling loudly in the otherwise quiet forest.

Ellery, who had handed it to me, stood with her arms crossed, watching me like I was some alien creature, which I guess I kinda am. But I wasn't sure if it's because she thinks I'm insane or if this is just her default personality. Probably both.

"Thank you," I muttered between bites, glancing at her and the other two.

Ellery appeared to be around my physical age—a short woman with muscular curves. Her blonde hair was flowy, stopping at her shoulders but rather fluffy as most women in the 80s kept their hair.

The man who handed me the water was the tallest and most muscular here—a gruff mountain man who stood well over 6-foot, at least 3 or 4 inches over 6-foot. He looked like he punted trees for fun. He had to be somewhere in his mid-30s, his strawberry blonde hair was cut short and his face kept a messy beard.

Lastly, the other guy, the dark-haired one who called me "californified" was about the same physical age as me. Maybe a little younger, but I really couldn't be sure. He was around the Doctor's height, a steady 6-foot. He was nowhere near as muscular as the mountain man, but he had his own strong build.

All of them were wearing deviating variations of flannel with jeans and thick jackets and hiking boots. Yep, definitely Kentucky.

They were all staring at me with different degrees of curiosity and concern. I swallowed hard, the food sitting heavy in my stomach. "So... now that we have an understanding, mind telling me who you people are and what you're doing out here?"

Zachary stepped forward, his gaze steady and serious. He looked like he carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders, and judging by the lines etched into his face, it had been weighing on him for a while.

"I'm Zachary," He said. "Sheriff of Wallins Creek."

"Sheriff?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Small-town lawman in the creepy woods? Sounds like the beginning of a bad horror movie."

His lips twitched into what might have been the ghost of a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Feels like I'm living one."

Ellery huffed, shifting her weight and throwing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "I'm Ellery. Deputy. And, no, before you ask, I'm not out here for fun." Her tone was sharp, defensive, but there was a softness underneath it—a crack in the armor that told me she was barely holding herself together.

"And I'm Isaiah," The dark-haired man said, stepping forward with an easy smile that didn't quite match the tension in his body. "Also a deputy. Secondary, deputy," He quickly added seeing the glare that Ellery threw him.

I looked between the three of them, taking in their exhaustion, their barely concealed frustration, and the way they seemed to lean on each other without even realizing it.

"Alright," I said carefully. "So what's the deal? Why are the three of you out here playing Scooby-Doo in the middle of nowhere? For a case, I presume? You mentioned missing people..."

All three spoke with the typical Southern American accent one might think was typical of people from Kentucky. And without realizing it, I had begun to follow suit—my natural demeanor in being able to copy and speak in anyway coming out full force. There was now the slightest Southern lull wrapping my words and growing stronger by the moment.

Isaiah's smile faded, and he glanced at Zachary, who nodded grimly. The Sheriff took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as he prepared to explain.

"For the past four months," Zachary began, his voice low and heavy, "Wallins Creek has been... haunted."

"Haunted?" I echoed, tilting my head.

"Are you sure we can trust her?" Ellery asked. "If she doesn't know what's been going on and isn't from Wallins Creek, she might very well be a suspect..."

"Exactly why she's staying with us," Zachary said sharply, and before I could blink, there was a shiny badge in my face. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you..." He told me, and I was left gaping in shock. How the fuck was I arrested this quickly!

"Are you fucking kidding me? I didn't do anything!" I spat furiously.

Zacharay shrugged. Ellery was smirking in amusement and Isaiah looked like he felt bad.

"For our own safety—you were spitting some tall tales just minutes ago... I'd like to question you back at the station... but for now, what do you know about the missing people of Wallins Creek?" Zachary asked me.

"Nothing!" I cried out. "I literally just got here!"

Zachary nodded slowly. "Uh-huh, well, I will determine if that is the truth, if you are a suspect, or if you're just truly insane when we get you back to the station. For now, as you are under arrest but we have no plans of going back to town just yet, you will remain with us. If you try to run, I will put you in handcuffs and we will escort you back to the town prison ourselves... understood?"

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes but did not argue seeing as it wasn't like I had anywhere to go. "Wait, but you said Wallins Creek is haunted?"

"Not by ghosts," Ellery interjected sharply. "By something real. Something dangerous."

"People are going missing," Isaiah added, his tone quieter now. "Over 35 in the last four months. No bodies. No signs of where they went. Just... gone."

I frowned, my stomach twisting.

35 people?

That wasn't just a string of bad luck—that was an epidemic. "And you think it has something to do with the forest? With me?"

Zachary nodded. "I don't know if it has something to do with you or not, but you being here is incredibly suspect. Tell me, does it have anything to do with you?"

"No!"

"Well then, you don't have anything to worry about when we question you down at the station." Zachary explained before Isaiah piped up.

"People hear screams at night, see shadows moving in the trees. Some of the older folks in town say it's tied to the old legends about the mountains—about the monsters that live out here." Isaiah told me.

Monsters. Of course. Because this wasn't creepy enough already. "And what do you think?" I asked, looking directly at Zachary.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening.  "I don't care what it is. I just want my daughter back."

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. His daughter. That explained the shadows under his eyes, the way he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"She went missing a few days ago," He continued, his voice cracking slightly. "She was walking home from school, and she never made it back. I've been combing the woods ever since."

Isaiah stepped in, his expression somber. "My mom's missing too. She loved to run—used to do marathons all the time. She went for a run about a week ago and never came home."

"And my brother," Ellery said, her voice softer now. "He went to a party a couple weeks ago. Never came back. So I'm begging you to be truthful, please tell us if you know anything..."

I stared at them, my chest tightening as the reality of their situation sank in. This wasn't just about solving a mystery or chasing down a ghost story. This was personal.

"I'm sorry," I told them all honesty, trying to appear genuine as possible. "I truthfully don't know anything about this..."

They all sank in disappointment but did not argue.

"The town's too small to get any real help," Zachary explained a moment later. "Wallins Creek doesn't have the resources to handle something like this, the police force is fifteen of us in total. And three of us are out here—the others stayed behind to take care of the town. Harlan County doesn't seem to care. So it's just us."

"It's not just that," Ellery added bitterly. "Everyone in town knows this is connected to the forest. They've been talking about it for months—how it feels... wrong. Like it's alive. People don't even go near it anymore unless they have to."

"And you think this 'something' in the woods is responsible for the disappearances?" I asked, trying to piece it all together.

"We don't just think," Isaiah said, his voice firm. "We know. Whatever it is, it's out here, and it's not going to stop. Not until we stop it."

That explained why they were not being too harsh against me.

They already knew that the thing taking these people is in the woods. But they aren't stupid—I am suspicious given the situation, it's why Zachary arrested me. But he knows deep down that I don't have anything to do with it; however, it'd be foolish if he didn't arrest me for precaution.

I felt a pang of sympathy for all three of them. They were desperate, clinging to hope in a situation that seemed hopeless. And as much as I wanted to keep my distance—to stay out of their mess—I couldn't ignore the pull in my gut, the voice in my head telling me to help.

Especially because I knew that if the Doctor was here, he'd already be questioning them. Already been forcing his help onto them. If the Doctor was here, he would be leading this expedition.

Unfortunately for these people, they didn't get the Doctor. They got half of THE POLARIS JADE instead.

"Alright," I said, crossing my arms and giving them a small, determined nod. "Let's find your people. And while we're at it, let's figure out what the hell is haunting this forest."

Zachary blinked, clearly surprised by my sudden declaration.

Ellery laughed. "And how do we know that you aren't behind it?"

"You don't," I shrugged. "You have no clue—no word other than my own that I have nothing to do with this. But you already have me arrested, what do you have to lose if you let me help you while you're at it?"

"Our lives," Ellery deadpanned.

"I already would have attempted to kill you all if I wanted to," I challenged.

"Mmm..." Isaiah shook his head, resting his hands behind his head casually. "Not exactly... criminals are smarter than attacking right off the back, especially when they're outnumbered, Chicago..."

"Don't call me that," I crinkled my nose.

"Then talk like you're Louiseville, beautiful," Isaiah shamelessly flirted.

He no doubt thought his words would make me flush. Instead, I held strong eye contact, not even batting a lash as I looked him up and down.

He was attractive. Tall, dark, and handsome. He had wide brown eyes and appeared to be mixed. But I did not need know him any further to know that I would chew him up and spit him out within days, the poor man wouldn't even know what hit him. I also hated the fact that I was internally comparing him to a certain British alien.

In complete honesty—when it comes to conventional and typical Earth (particularly 80s America) beauty standards. Isaiah is more attractive than the Doctor. But there is no part of me that is conventional and there is no part of me that runs by the rules of stereotypical Earth beauty.

"Not trying to sound like you, cowboy casanova," I smirked back at him before turning to Zachary.

I heard Ellery release a snort and Isaiah seemed to blink is surprise at my dismissal of his moves.

"What's your name?" Zachary finally asked.

"PJ," I answered simply.

"Your real name," Ellery added, staring at me hardly.

"PJ is my real name!" I defended.

"Oh, please, that's the worst nickname I've ever heard... what's your real name?" She ordered.

My nose scrunched at her words. "PJ isn't that bad," I murmured to myself sourly.

"Your name, gorgeous?" Isaiah tried.

"Isaiah, keep it professional!" Zachary snapped and Isaiah held up his hands.

"Yep—sorry—keeping it professional..." He answered before clearing his throat and speaking to me in a mock deep tone—Southern accent coming even harsher. "Ma'am, what's your name?"

"That is a disgusting voice," I laughed. "You sound like a damn monster..." I shook my head and Isaiah laughed as well. The other two were staring at him disapprovingly making him clear his throat, stop laughing, and stand straighter. I stopped as well, breathing out annoyed. "It's Cooper Starre..." I told them, choosing to go with my actual birth name, ignoring how weird it made me feel.

However, I had been more open to that name after the whole DreamLord situation. I had to be considering the Doctor would switch between calling me by various nicknames, PJ, and now Cooper.

Isaiah snapped his fingers toward me. "Now, that is a totally tubular name..."

Ah, can't hate the 80s.

"Thanks," I nodded.

Zachary glanced at me for a long moment, his sharp green eyes assessing every inch of me. I didn't flinch under his gaze; I met it with an arched brow and crossed arms. Finally, he sighed, reached toward to his back, and pulled out a shotgun.

Over his backpack, two shotguns had been strapped. Now there was only one. Ellery and Isaiah had both also been armed with a shotgun.

"Here," he said, holding it out to me.

Ellery turned on him immediately. "What the hell, Zach? Are you serious? What if she shoots us?"

I raised both hands. "Hey, I'm not a maniac, thank you very much."

That's a lie—I am definitely a maniac. But I am not the type of maniac to turn around and shoot them out of nowhere.

Zachary didn't even look at her. His eyes stayed on me, steady and unyielding. "There are three of us highly trained enforcement officers, against one girl. If she tries anything, we can handle her. But if something out here tries to take her—or us—I'd rather she have a way to fight back."

Ellery groaned and rubbed her temples. "Great. Now I have to watch my back for monsters and her."

"I'm charming and delightful, thank you," I said, taking the shotgun. It was heavier than I expected, but more than manageable. "What kind of ammo are we talking about here? Regular bullets, or does this thing fire something more interesting? Like holy water shells or silver buckshot?"

I hated to admit the excitement that was bubbling up inside. Traveling with the Doctor and even before that—all my exploits were usually space-related. This was new—tiny American town in a haunted mountain range.

Isaiah snickered. "Yeah, sure. We just keep a stash of vampire-killer rounds in the Wallins Creek police station. Totally normal inventory."

I smirked at him. "Hey, you never know."

Zachary cleared his throat. "Standard buckshot. If you can't handle it, give it back to me."

"I can handle it," I said confidently. I hoisted it onto my shoulder and followed the trio as they started moving deeper into the woods.

The forest felt alive around us. Not in a magical, Disney-movie way—more like it was watching us. Every crackle of a twig, every whisper of wind through the leaves set my nerves on edge. I clutched the shotgun tighter and kept pace with Zachary, who walked slightly ahead of the group.

"So, PJ," Isaiah said, falling into step beside me. "What's your deal? You're not exactly blending in with the rest of us mountain folk."

"I've got no deal," I said. "Just a traveler who got really, really lost."

Ellery snorted. "A traveler who got lost in a spaceship." She threw my earlier words back at me.

"Hey," I said defensively. "It happens. Piloting the TARDIS isn't exactly straightforward."

Isaiah grinned. "Right, the time machine-spaceship. Traveling with an alien in a bowtie. You sure you're not writing a book or something?"

I shook my head. "Nope, just a girl from 2025 Chicago who happened upon a British alien's Time And Relative Dimension In Space AKA TARDIS, I've been traveling with him for a small bit..."

How long had it been with the Doctor now? For him, it had to have been a few weeks—for me, including the month with River and the extra week of running around Victorian London, it'd been closer to a few months.

Zachary turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "You ever thought about being an author? You'd be good at it. You've got the imagination for it."

I shrugged. "Reading's fun on occasion, but writing? Ugh. Boring. Besides, I'd get two paragraphs in and forget what I was talking about. Who has the patience for that?"

"Apparently not you," Ellery muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "So, you think this place is really haunted?" I asked, glancing around. "Or is that just a convenient excuse for whatever's been taking people?"

The three of them exchanged looks. Isaiah was the first to speak, his voice tinged with a wry humor. "Haunted? By anything and everything, sweetheart. But usually, it's not this aggressive."

I raised a brow. "Anything and everything? Care to elaborate?"

Ellery slowed her pace, turning to walk backward so she could face me. Her expression was grim. "The Appalachians have rules," She said simply. "And if you're smart, you follow them. You should know this, didn't you say you're from Louiseville?"

"Rules?" I asked, my interest piqued. "And yeah, but like I said, I've been traveling for a while..."

"Yeah," Isaiah said. His voice dropped slightly like he didn't want the forest to overhear. "Don't go into the woods at night. Don't whistle. Don't look in the trees. If you see something strange, you didn't. If you feel something stalking you, don't run. If you hear something call your name—"

"Don't answer," Zachary finished. His voice was low and serious.

I felt a shiver crawl down my spine. "Anything else?"

Ellery gave a humorless laugh. "Never go outside after dark without a buddy. And if you find yourself staring at something that's staring back, don't be the first to look away."

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the shotgun. "Well, that's... unsettling."

"Welcome to Appalachia," Isaiah said with a smirk. "You're technically one of us, you know. Louisville's not that far off. So welcome home, Appalachian Woman..."

"Whatever, Appalachian Man," I shot back, trying to mask my unease. "Maybe you should get out of town sometime. This certainly makes me glad that I did..."

Isaiah's smirk faltered, and for a moment, a shadow passed over his face. "Oh, trust me," He said quietly. "If I get out of this alive, I'm taking my mom and we're traveling everywhere. You think that alien man of yours has room for two more on his ship?"

Ellery rolled her eyes. "Isaiah, don't tell me you're believing her insane rambling?" She asked him.

Isaiah shrugged. "If the Appalachian legends are real then who's to say a bowtie-wearing alien in a time-traveling spaceship isn't?"

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Ellery groaned.

I smiled, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "The Doctor—" I was cut off by Ellery.

"The Doctor?" She squawked incredulously. "That's his name? God almighty, that definitely means ya' escaped a psych-ward..."

I ignored her and continued speaking to Isaiah. "He sometimes gets weird about too many people traveling with him, but I might be able to convince him."

Isaiah gave me a small, sad smile in return, and for a moment, the teasing and the banter faded into silence. We walked on, the forest pressing in around us, and I couldn't help but wonder how many of the missing people had walked this same path—and what had been watching them when they did.

Minutes turned to hours as we walked around, investigating potential signs as to where the missing people could be.

As it would turn out, a few hours is more than enough time to really get to know people. I learned that Zachary was married to a lovely woman named Cindy, and their missing daughter is a little 8-year-old girl named Tiffany. Cindy is pregnant, they're expecting a son this November. I learned that Zachary is ex-military, I also learned that his favorite color is blue and he would kill for a good steak dinner tonight.

Ellery graduated high school, ran off to Lexington for a few years and clawed her way through the police academy before she returned home to Wallins Creek as the Deputy. Secondary deputy, to be exact. Her parents died in a car crash a few years back, she was left as the guardian to her younger brother who had been 17 at the time. Even though Lucas was now 22, Ellery still took care of him—she was heartbroken and furious when he went missing. She was currently going through a nasty breakup too, apparently she found her ex-boyfriend cheating on her with her best friend.

Isaiah—he's a fun one—a college dropout. He was 23 and on the verge of graduating when missed the deadline for his thesis. He had been studying rocket engineering, which explained why he was so invested and the most open about my tales about the Doctor and his TARDIS. Rather than staying and re-doing another year, he chose to go through the police academy. He outranked nearly everyone, and like Ellery, he chose to return home and easily became on of the Deputies.

His Pops died about a year ago—cancer—and he'd been living with his mom ever since. She ran marathons in the name of colon cancer awareness. It was just her and Isaiah.

In turn, I told them about my phony stories of being born in Kentucky and then taken and raised by an intergalactic crime syndicate called the Ravagers. I retold stories about how I had been traveling with the Doctor through time and space—narrated the story about the Weeping Angels in the 51st Century, Daleks in Britain during World War 2, and Vlad the Slayer. I also described a few adventures River Song and I went on as we danced through time the month I was with her.

Isaiah hung off my every word, Zachary looked amused, and Ellery only quirked an inquisitive brow at my tales. She had claimed multiple times throughout my stories—if my twisted delusions somehow turned out to be real against all odds—that she was good right where she was on Earth.

However, it seemed after the last four months, none of them wanted to stay in Wallins Creek. Nevertheless, I had slowly earned their trust—at least, earned their trust in the sense that they did not think I was behind the missing people any longer.

Isaiah wanted to believe me while Zachary and Ellery thought I was completely insane. Insane but harmless.

Oh, how wrong they were—I'm anything but harmless.

We were all chatting, the sun having just barely started to sink down into the sky when we saw them.

Hanging from the trees were dozens—no, hundreds—of dolls.

I stopped dead in my tracks, shotgun held tight in my hands as I took in the scene. The dolls dangled by their necks, suspended from the branches with twine, rope, and in some cases, rusted wire. They swayed with the wind, their plastic and porcelain faces reflecting the dim glow of the sun. Some were pristine, eyes wide and unblinking, their painted smiles frozen in time. Others were broken, missing limbs, heads twisted unnaturally, their bodies battered by the elements. Their glass eyes caught the light in odd ways, making them look almost... alive.

A particularly unsettling one swung just inches from my face—a baby doll with its eyelids half-closed, as if it were mid-blink, its once-rosy cheeks now stained with something dark and weathered. Its dress was torn, revealing stuffing spilling out of its seams like it had been gutted. A shiver crawled down my spine.

"Jesus Christ," Ellery breathed, voice tight with unease. "Who the hell does this?"

Zachary exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around his rifle. "Could be some kind of backwoods warning," He said. "A scare tactic. Maybe a deterrent to keep people out. We must be getting closer..."

Isaiah let out a low whistle, stepping closer to one of the dolls and giving it a light push with the barrel of his pistol. The thing spun lazily in place, its head turning as if to watch us. "This is some horror movie shit," He muttered. "You think that Doctor fella might pull up anytime soon?"

I swallowed thickly. "Nah, he's always late, and chances are he'll appear in Wallins Creek..." I said, voice a little hoarse. "And horror movie shit is when these things start moving on their own."

Ellery shot me a look. "Not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be funny," I murmured, scanning the area.

It wasn't just the dolls that were unnerving—it was the feeling of the place. The air was wrong. Thicker, like we had stepped into something ancient and hungry. It wasn't just still—it was the kind of silence that listened. The trees around us seemed to close in, their shadows deeper, darker than they should have been.

"Alright," Isaiah said, clearly trying to shake the unease, "someone wanna give me a rational explanation before I start screaming like a little girl?"

"Could be some kind of folk ritual," Zachary offered. "A protection thing—maybe they think the dolls keep spirits away."

Ellery shook her head. "Or attract them."

"Or it's just some sick bastard's idea of a joke," I said, though I didn't believe that for a second. "Doll collectors gone feral."

Isaiah gave me a side glance. "Don't joke about that, Chicago, doll collectors are feral. Disgusting hobby to have..."

I huffed a quiet laugh but kept scanning the trees, my grip tightening around the shotgun. "I dunno," I said. "I've seen a lot of weird shit, but this?" I gestured toward the sea of dolls. "This is up there."

Isaiah gave me a sidelong glance. "Yeah, yeah, we get it; you and your time-traveling alien boyfriend have seen it all."

"He's not my boyfriend," I argued weakly, though I barely believed my own words.

Even I had to admit the Doctor and my relationship is more... domestic than it should be. He danced on the line of ditzy alien boyfriend.

Ellery groaned. "Seriously, stop encouraging her and those insane tall tales..."

Before I could respond, a branch snapped somewhere to our right.

All of us whirled in the direction of the sound, guns raised. My heartbeat slammed against my ribs, pulse hammering in my ears. My finger hovered over the trigger.

From the shadows, a figure stepped out.

"Jesus—!" Zachary barked, and in an instant, all four of us had our guns aimed at the newcomer.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The guy yelped, lifting his hands in the air. "Dude, chill! I'm not Jesus! Don't shoot me! And holy shit, this is a lot of dolls!"

He was lanky, with shaggy, unkempt hair that fell over his forehead. His oversized hoodie swallowed him whole, and his jeans were baggy enough that he looked like he'd walked straight out of a '90s skate video. But his fashion was about a decade too early to be trendy right now. His eyes were wide—part from fear, part from something else. He was high.

Zachary kept his rifle trained on him. "Identify yourself."

The guy blinked at him. "Uh... name is Billy, man."

I took one look at him—his slouched posture, the lingering scent of weed, the way his voice stretched lazily over each syllable—and nudged Isaiah with my elbow. "See? That's California."

Isaiah barely held back a laugh, rolling his eyes as he lowered his gun slightly. "Whatever, Louiseville."

Isaiah had taken to calling me either Chicago or Louiseville.

Ellery didn't lower hers. "Billy what?"

Billy blinked again, as if the question required actual effort to answer. "Uh. Just Billy, dude."

"Your last name, idiot!" Ellery barked.

"Greene!" Billy squeaked. "It's Billy Greene!"

Zachary's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Billy hesitated, scratching at the back of his neck. "Uh, well, me and my friends were road-tripping, right? Like, across the U.S. and all that wicked shit. And, uh, we heard about the haunted Appalachian Mountains and thought, you know, sick, let's camp out here."

Ellery groaned. "Of course you did. This place attracts so many weird tourists it's insane...!"

Billy nodded, still not seeming to register the severity of the situation. "Yeah, yeah, but, uh... when I woke up this morning, all my friends were gone, man. And, uh..." He scratched his arm nervously. "And the keys to our van? Yeah, also gone. And y'know, I smoke some crazy shit, but this is real crazy..."

Silence.

A deep, heavy, suffocating silence.

Ellery pressed a hand down her face. "Oh, fuck."

I crossed my arms, jutted out a hip, and exhaled sharply. "Oh, fuck is right." The words came out more Southern than I meant them to, and Isaiah smirked.

Billy, however, just blinked. "Uh... so... do you guys, like, know how to get out of here?"

I looked past him, back at the endless stretch of woods. The trees seemed taller now. The shadows darker. And in the distance, ever so faintly, I thought I heard something—something—whisper my name.

What was the Appalachian rule again? Nope! No, I definitely did not hear a peep.

I tightened my grip on the shotgun.

Yeah. We were so screwed.

Everyone else seemed to hear it too, but the only one to acknowledge it was Billy, who turned toward the noise.

"Woah, did you guys hear that—?" His question was cut off by all of our frantic yells.

"No!" We were all screaming either that or something along those lines. "No, we most definitely didn't, and neither did you! Ignore it!"

Billy held his hands up. "Man, I am just trying to find my friends and get the hell outta this wack place..." He yawned. "Smoke some more pot maybe—we're trying to be in New York by Wednesday..."

What day was it? I think Zachary mentioned that it was Sunday earlier.

New York City is about a two-day drive from here.

"C'mon, kid," Zachary begrudgingly motioned him over. "You can't be out here by yourself, you're with us now..."

All that being said, once we caught Billy up on the situation, he reasonably started panicking and began to call us wack as fuck for staying out here. However, seeing as he had no clue how to get back to Wallins Creek nor did he want to hike those few miles by himself—the young man was stuck with us.

The sinking sun painted the sky in hues of deep orange and blood-red, the last remnants of daylight stretching long shadows across the dense forest floor. The light flickered between the trees, casting strange shapes in the underbrush, twisting branches into gnarled fingers, and turning every stump into something hunched and watching. The temperature was still warm—thank God—but the air was heavy, thick with the smell of damp earth, moss, and something else... something foul.

Something rotting.

I tightened my grip on the shotgun as we walked, every instinct screaming that we were being watched.

No one spoke much. Not anymore. Even Billy, in his panicking, had gone quiet. He stuck close to Isaiah, eyes flicking nervously between the trees like he expected something to reach out and grab him at any second. Which, honestly? Not a bad instinct.

This forest was wrong.

Unlike anything I had ever experienced firsthand on Earth.

It wasn't just the dolls—though. Jesus, those had been bad enough—it was the feeling of the place. Like the trees themselves were alive, like they were leaning in, listening. Every now and then, I swore I saw movement just beyond my peripheral vision, but whenever I turned to look, there was nothing. Just endless dark woods.

And the silence.

The kind of silence that listens.

The kind that waits.

The last few rays of light flickered weakly through the branches as we crested a small ridge, and that was when the smell hit.

It was like a physical force, a wall of stench so vile I nearly gagged on it. The overwhelming stink of decay, of something long dead and left to fester. Thick and cloying, it crawled up my throat and settled deep in my lungs.

"Jesus Christ—" Ellery choked, covering her nose with her sleeve. "What the hell is that?"

Billy coughed violently. "Dude—dude, that's not right. That's not fucking normal—"

Zachary didn't say a word. Just stepped forward, rifle at the ready, jaw tight as he followed the smell. We had no choice but to follow. The trees thinned out as we descended the ridge, opening up into a small clearing.

Bodies.

So many bodies.

It was an old graveyard—if you could even call it that. A forgotten place swallowed by the forest, half-sunken headstones jutting up from the earth at odd angles, names and dates weathered beyond recognition. Many of the headstones were so old that they were blank. But the graves weren't the worst part.

The bodies were.

They were scattered haphazardly across the clearing, some slumped against trees, others sprawled in the overgrown grass like discarded puppets. They had been here for weeks—a month, maybe two—the decay so advanced that their skin had turned black, peeling away in places to expose bloated, rotting flesh beneath. Their eyes, where they remained, were clouded and sunken. Maggots squirmed in open wounds, burrowing deep into the decomposing meat. A flock of crows picked at the corpses, their beady black eyes gleaming in the dying light. One tore away a strip of flesh from a gaping wound, the wet rip of it echoing through the silent clearing.

Billy screamed. I screamed. Isaiah screamed. Ellery screamed. And even Zachary screamed.

Billy staggered back, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Oh—oh fuck, oh shit—what the fuck—" He clutched his head like he was trying to force his brain to comprehend what he was seeing. "This isn't real, man—this isn't real—just a bad trip, totally not real!"

Isaiah swallowed hard. "Oh, it's real," He muttered, voice grim.

I could hardly breathe. My pulse pounded against my skull, and my stomach churned, bile rising in my throat.

Were these the missing people? Some of them had to be, but there weren't enough bodies for it to be all of the missing people. I saw Zachary eyeing the bodies, relief flickered in his gaze when he realized that none of those corpses were that of a child's.

None of them were his daughter.

"We need to go back," Billy said, voice breaking. He turned to us, wild-eyed. "We—we need to go back to Wallins Creek, call the cops, man, we need to get the hell outta here—"

"We are the cops," Ellery snapped, though she looked just as shaken as the rest of us. "Who the hell do you think is gonna handle this? The fucking state police? Harlan doesn't give a fuck about Wallins Creek! We've asked for backup for months! We are the authorities out here, we are all there is!"

Billy threw his hands in the air. "Dude, I don't give a shit! We need to leave, like, now! Do you even hear yourselves?! You're acting like you can just deal with this! Look at this!"

"We can deal with this," Zachary said firmly, his voice like steel. "And we will. But right now we need to try to locate the remaining missing individuals and then we can bring a bigger party back here when it's daylight and—"

A sound stopped him mid-sentence.

A whisper.

Not words. Not quite. Just something in the dark.

We all heard it.

The argument died instantly, every muscle in my body locking up as I turned toward the sound. It came from the trees. Deep. Low. A rustling, shifting noise, like something huge moving just beyond the tree line.

Another whisper.

Then another.

Then... laughter.

Soft. Breathless. A giggle.

The hair on the back of my neck rose.

"Back to back," Zachary ordered, voice hushed but urgent. "Now."

None of us hesitated. We pressed together, forming a tight circle, weapons raised. Billy only had a pocket knife, there wasn't another shotgun for him to arm himself with. The sun had all but disappeared now, and the only light we had was from the flashlights the three cops had pulled out. The beams cut through the darkness in sharp, jittery streaks as we turned, trying to spot something—anything—in the endless void of trees.

Isaiah quickly handed me an extra flashlight while Ellery did the same for Billy.

Another whisper. This time, it was closer.

Then... the crack of a branch.

Isaiah sucked in a sharp breath. "What the fuck was that?"

My grip on the shotgun was iron-tight. "Not something I wanna stick around to find out."

Then, just for a split second, I saw it.

Not a person. Not an animal.

Just something in the trees.

Tall. Twisted. Barely more than a silhouette against the black.

I had never wished to be the complete POLARIS JADE more than at this moment. Never wished to be back in the TARDIS in my warm bed with the Doctor more than at this moment.

"Run!" Zachary didn't hesitate.

None of us did.

We bolted.

I had no idea where we were going, had no idea if we were even going the right way, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was getting away. The forest blurred around me as we sprinted, trees whipping past, branches clawing at my arms and face. My boots pounded against the dirt, my breath ragged and sharp.

Somewhere behind me, Billy was still screaming.

Ellery cursed loudly as she tripped over a root, but Isaiah grabbed her, yanking her back to her feet before we lost momentum.

"Stick together!" Zachary barked. "Don't—fucking—separate!"

I could still feel it behind us. The thing. It was watching us. But I didn't dare look back, none of us did. We just kept running.