21. It Follows

Totems…butterflies... Words tumbled around Chris' head in an endless cycle, his brain working in overdrive in a desperate attempt to solve the situation.

His difficult task was not aided by the barrage of questions that his conscience was launching at his mind, as if his own body was raging war on him, striking his head with a fierce headache. Who made it? Where did this thing come from? How the hell did it get into my room?

Chris slowly tried to dissect each query, picking it apart as delicately as he could. Mike had already mentioned that he had seen the symbol carved onto the stone on the totems that had been scattered about the mountain last year. Chris had assumed they had purely been some sort of tradition at first, but after reading the stranger's notebooks, he found that they had a deeper purpose – a method at which to keep the beasts on the mountains at bay.

But if the transcripts in the journal were true, there could only be one person that could have produced such an artefact. No, Chris…that's insane… He had seen the stranger brutally killed, the image burned into his mind forever, and there was no way that his death had been elaborately faked as Josh had done.

Josh… Chris' mind slowly wandered away from the task at hand, as if dragged by his pained heart down a road of sorrow. He still couldn't get his head around it. His best friend had been lost in a night of horror, and no matter what the others might have said, Josh didn't deserve that.

He could feel a burning tear start to form in the corner of his eye, stinging his skin, and so quickly brushed away the thoughts, returning to the conundrum at hand. Once again, Chris found himself staring at the smooth white stone, his fingers tracing over the etched marking as his brow furrowed. He honestly wasn't sure where it could have come from, unless it was something left over by the stranger, or the Cree tribe that had once lived on the mountain. Both were plausible answers, which left only one question.

How did it get into his room?

At first, he had assumed that one of his group had finally found some of their spirit and was messing with him by launching small stones up at his window, as if they were trying to get a rise out of Chris. That idea was soon removed from the metaphorical table. No one in this group was well enough to even think about playing a prank on someone else, especially considering how well that went last time.

Stop thinking about that Chris! Stop thinking about it!

Another question sprung to mind – how the hell did whoever was throwing the stones hit his window? It was fair to say that the room he had been staying in was extremely high up, higher than he could throw…which granted, wasn't very high, but the point still remained intact.

So who the hell had thrown it? If it wasn't any of the people on the trip, who could it have been. Thoughts of Josh, Hannah and Beth sprung to mind instantly, before Chris wiped them away, as if smearing his hand across their blood, creating a bright red stain. In his head, he knew that they were all dead, but his heart would not let go, would not stop hoping.

His hands were still tracing mindlessly over the small object before the sound of the door to the kitchen opened and Mike wandered out, still looking rather concerned. In one hand he held a plate full of various sandwiches, and in the other he held two bottles of beer which appeared as though they had just come out of the fridge.

"You look stressed," Mike commented, placing the plate on the coffee table and settling down on the couch opposite, tossing Chris a beer which he almost dropped as a reminder of his clumsy ways.

Chris regarded the bottle in his hand before looking back up at Mike, a suspicious gaze across his face, "Isn't it a little early for beer?" He gently put the stone down on the table and cracked his beer open anyways, thankful for at least some refreshment.

"What do you mean, 'early'? It's like, four o'clock." He stared at Chris for a moment, a frown forming on his face. "Have you really been looking at that stone all day?" There was a clear look of disbelief painted across his face.

Chris paused for a second – when the hell did it get to be four? Last time he checked it was only midday. "Huh…I guess so. I just…I just can't figure it out. Where did it come from? And how the heck did it end up in my room in the first place?" A small weight lifted off of his shoulders as he voiced his internal questions. The noise in his head wasn't quite so loud anymore.

Mike shrugged, leaning back into the chair, taking a few gulps of his drink, as if he had been incredibly thirsty. "Are you sure it wasn't in your room the whole time and you just didn't notice?"

Chris shook his head firmly. "No…I would have stepped on it in the night if it had been." The space between the window and the bed hadn't been that large, perhaps only a couple of metres, and it was highly likely that Chris would have stepped on it if the stone had already been there. "And besides, why would it be in there in the first place?"

"I don't know man, it was just an idea." Mike sighed as he began to eat one of the sandwiches, looking rather satisfied. He looked as though he was about to open his mouth, but then decided against it as if he had nothing more to contribute to the conversation.

A sigh escaped Chris lips as he reached out to take the stone off of the table, but another hand reached it first. Thin fingers wrapped around the white marble and pulled it out of reach in an instant. "What the hell's this?"

Chris glanced up at Sam, thankful that it was her. God forbid it be anyone else – it became clear on arrival that everyone wasn't really a fan of him – especially neither of those weird psychiatrists. She was eyeing the stone carefully, tracing her fingers over the markings with great interest.

"That's the problem," Mike began, swallowing his food and gesturing widely with his hands, "We don't know. It just appeared in his room in the middle of the night…apparently." His words were lined with scepticism, but not that of the malicious kind. More that of someone who had been duped one too many times.

"Huh." Sam settled down onto the sofa next to Chris, still rotating the object with great care. "You got nothing?" Chris shook his head in response. In this situation, three minds were evidently no better than two – or one for that matter. He had been just as stuck as this on his own, without the self-invited help of Sam and Mike.

"Oh, by the way, you'll be happy to know that creepy-ass Dr Hill has gone." Sam mused, a undeniably pleased look plastered across of her face, as if she had won a victory against the psychiatrist. "He had to go deal with some patients, and he mentioned something about some cats, I think…"

A wave of relief passed over Chris. Thank god. He didn't know if he could last another day under the piercing gaze of that creep. Mike seemed to share his view, "Well we'll all sleep safer in our beds now, won't we." Chris chuckled at that. "And speaking of sleep, how are you feeling after your 'power nap' this morning Sam?"

The conversation slowly trailed into Sam and Mike throwing quick jeers at each other, but Chris wasn't even paying attention by that point. He sat, staring at the powerless TV with dull eyes, but in his head, his thoughts were whirling ten times as fast as they had been previously, his thought pattern beginning to sound a lot more desperate. He needed answers.

Darkness filled his vision. A swirling, writhing black that seemed to grow and stretch, hiding ghostly figures in its path. A deafening nothingness surrounded him. Chris was depraved of all noise, sight…there was nothing. He began to hear his heart thump in his skull, and for a moment he feared he was going mad.

Then he saw something through the shadows, like a snake curving through the air. A harsh screech filled his mind, like that of nails on a chalkboard. A blackened chain, as if it had been charred in fire fell onto the ground, barely distinguishable through the dim lighting. Chris' head snapped upwards at another sound. Thud. Thud. Thud. Footsteps. Coming closer by the second. He strained to see into the darkness, but he could only see shifting silhouettes of things that were not there.

Perhaps he was going crazy.

Chris snapped awake from his dream. It had been so odd and confusing that it never could have been reality…but at the same time, Chris felt as though he had actually experienced it; his head still ringing from the metallic clawing.

Another two hours vanished quickly, as did the sandwiches on the plate. Sam and Mike had left after a while, wandering off to who knows where. Chris was still sipping at his beer, more out of habit than actual need. Matt, Jessica and Emily sat down a slight way away soon after. Despite their quiet tones, he could still hear the discussion. He had to try and occupy his brain with something else rather than this infernal stone, but nothing seemed to grab his attention – no wonder, considering the majority of the conversation was taken up by discussions about the latest TV dramas.

It was around seven o'clock when he had finally been forced to get up, his back and neck protesting at having been sat in the same place with barely any movement for the best part of six hours. His original plan had been to return to his room for a quieter place to think, considering the sitting area was becoming louder and it made it extremely hard to concentrate. That plan was stopped in its tracks as he saw Ashley and Sam sitting on the stairs together. Would it be awkward to shuffle past them? Probably, so Chris decided against it, internally cursing his own social ineptitude.

Eventually Chris had settled in a quieter corner near the larger windows and door at the back of the hall, his hands supporting his head as if all of his thoughts were slowly weighing down his skull, causing his neck to bend in fatigue. He barely noticed the snow beginning to fall quickly outside, only highlighted by the lights from the inside, the other scenery soon becoming silhouetted in the indigo sky.

It was not long after that he heard Sam calling him from the main entrance to the building. With painful slowness, he heaved himself out of his sitting position and made his way over to the front door, where the rest of the companions were assembled. He knew what was coming next and he had been internally dreading it for the entire duration of the trip so far.

Stood in the doorway was Dr North, wearing about five layers of various black and white coats and jumpers, small rucksack in hand. "I'll be seeing you all at the end of the week," she spoke, her eyes glinting with an unreadable tint, "If you need me, I'll be staying at the ranger lodge at the bottom of the mountain with my sister Dyani. I've already given Jessica the number for the cabin, so I'll be here as quick as possible if need be." With a gentle smile, she lifted her hand in farewell before exiting through the door, vanishing from sight in the thick snow.

Now here they were, alone for the week. Oh joy.

Unsurprisingly Mike and Matt had gone to get another stash of beers in their form of a 'celebration' at finally being free from 'Creep 1 and Creep 2' as he had heard Matt call them from time to time. Sam and Jessica also looked quite excited, Jessica's usual smile playing across her face, as if she had finally forgotten her fears. Chris knew that it was never that simple, though.

Ashley and Emily were looking less certain, no doubt sharing the same fears as he was. When he had been told the original plan, he had almost decided not to come. They were going to be left alone – with each other – for an entire week…on a mountain…where three of their original group had met their untimely and grizzly ends. It didn't really sound like the best plan. But Chris knew he would have to grin and bear it. They were in no danger on the mountain any more, that he was sure of. Every wendigo had been destroyed in the sanatorium or in the lodge fire, luckily for them, and it appeared that the mountain was thriving again. In other circumstances, this would have been considered a luxury holiday.

As soon as Matt and Mike returned with the drinks, everyone gathered into their own small groups, eyeing each other almost suspiciously. Every group looked like they were at war with each other, each one fixing others with untrustworthy glances, as if now that the 'responsible people' had gone, everyone was going to start murdering each other in minutes.

Matt, Emily and Jessica predictably went and sat by the TV, whilst Ashley and Sam settled at a small coffee table near to them. That just left Chris and Mike, who, like the two sad guys at a party, stood near the stairs, not really knowing what to do or how to fit in. Well, it wasn't like they really had anywhere to fit in at this point.

Thump.

Everyone's heads lifted in unison, eyes all flashing to the front door. "Who the hell is that?" Mike was the first to speak, taking a slow step forwards. It was almost as though they had never left the mountain from last year, the unnerving and fearful atmosphere coming back all too soon, as familiar as any other part of their lives.

"Maybe it's Dr North," Sam suggested, standing up to stand near Mike. "She could have forgotten something…" She tried to sound confident, but the way her voice wavered betrayed her pretences.

"Yeah…but she left like, three hours ago. If she had forgotten something, why would it take her so long to get back?" Jessica piped into the conversation, huddling further into the chair she was sat in, looking rather fearful. She made a valid point. If Dr North had gone down the mountain, realised she needed something from the lodge and returned back, she would have been back two hours ago.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off. Thump. "…Maybe you should answer it…?" His voice raised in pitch at the end, making his suggestion sound like a question, and a very meek one at that. He very much doubted that it was Dr North, and although a part of him feared that it would be Dr Hill, that was even less likely. Who the hell is it…? He couldn't believe this. A day into the trip, and stuff was already beginning to go to shit. He had a sneaking suspicion that he would have a heart attack before the week was over.

"They've seen us on the mountain…" Emily whispered from her seat, "They've seen us come back…" A vile taste rose in Chris' mouth. What if she was right? Someone might have followed them here. Who, he didn't know. But he was prepared to give them a piece of his mind…or, rather, he was prepared to let Mike give them a piece of his mind.

Jessica's voice became tinged in fear, "Maybe we should-" CRASH. In an instant, the door was thrown open, swinging on its hinges into the wall, causing every member of the group to jump back in surprise and fear. In the doorway there was a figure, nearly silhouetted in the lodge lighting. A long coat hung from their body, and something akin to a bag was strapped to their back.

"W-what the fuck do you want? Who the fuck are you?" Mike shouted. Chris couldn't help but notice how Mike's hands danced around his waist as if he was looking for a gun. Chris wondered how long it would take before that instinct was gone.

Sam moved to stand close to Mike, putting on her most defiant face as she stared down the shrouded figure. She did not make a sound, but instead tried to look as intimidating as possible, although Chris guessed that that wouldn't have much effect if someone had come to murder them.

In a quick motion, the figure walked towards them at a brisk pace, clearly knowing what they wanted. That's when Chris got his first good look at them, his heart almost jumping into his mouth. A deer skull stared right back at him, antlers sprouting out of the crown of its head. The morbid sight was being used as some sort of mask for the person hiding behind it. He barely had time to get another glance at the intruder before they had stalked off again, completely ignoring the questions and protests being yelled at it by all members of the group.

Were they honestly that inefficient together? This stranger had just waltzed into the place and strolled right past them, and none of them had done anything to stop it. Oh boy, they were going to be dead by the end of the week.

The skull-adorned stranger had quickly vanished down the flight of stairs leading to the basement, with Mike in tow. Chris glanced upwards to see Sam stood in the same place she had started her eyes glassy and face pale. He desperately wanted to help, but there were more pressing needs. For once he felt a pang of relief when Ashley was at Sam's side, tending to her.

Chris, on numb legs, powered down the stairs, just in time to see cinema room door slamming shut. He continued onwards, reopening the door to see Mike sprinting down the corridor leading to the passage ways, the intruder nowhere in sight. Where the hell where they going? More importantly, how the hell did they know where they were going?

Shaking his head, he briskly continued into the dark basement, forcing himself to keep moving as old fears and memories overcame him. Soon, the walls had changed to dingy dark colours, and the decorations were littering the floor. He couldn't shake off the memory of the ghost, and the incident from last year. Why the fuck was he down here again? What sick, twisted turn of events had led him here?

"Hey!" He heard Mike's shouts and immediately took off, sprinting down the rest of the corridor until they reached the dreaded, dark basement rooms. Cobwebs streaming from the ceiling like dismal streamers at a party. The only thing remotely similar down here to a party had been the almost fatal trick that Josh had forced him to take part in.

He continued to follow Mike's silhouette and shadows, vaguely aware of a series of footsteps behind him – he guessed it was the rest of the group, but he didn't waste any time to check. He rounded a corner, almost skidding on the surprisingly wet floor, to see Mike standing in the centre of the corridor, watching the intruder break open the old iron door that lead to the mines.

As if it was nothing, the door popped open, despite being nearly rusted shut, and for a moment, he swore he could see the stranger looking rather proud of themselves. A second later, they heaved open the door and vanished into the darkness, leaving Mike and Chris stood in the corridor, dumbfounded.

Sam and Matt followed around the corner, leading Jessica, Emily and Ashley along. They all paused at the sight.

In the gloom of the mines, a figure could just be made out. The stranger was returning, large antlers almost scraping the roof of the mine. They looked as if they were dragging something. They advanced painfully slowly, and Chris swore he could hear the sound of metal screeching as it was dragged along the floor.

They eventually emerged back into the dim light of the corridor, the stranger's body language suggesting that after the exertion of the sprint they were fairly exhausted. It became clear now that they were holding something in their hand. A chain, and a rather industrial-looking one at that. In a moment, it flashed back to him. His dream, the endless tortured sound of metal scraping along the floor, heavy footsteps. It was all too real.

The intruder halted a few yards in front of them. That's when they spoke, their voice mostly muffled and warped by the skull adorning their face, but their words were clear and spoken with confidence. "I believe this is yours." With a powerful throw, they tossed the chain at the assembled group, sending it skidding just in front of them. The stranger shoved their hands in their pockets in satisfaction.

Mike heaved up the end of the chain, evidently confused about the situation. The stranger offered no signs of assisting them. That's when the chain began to move, slackening at their end…whatever was on the end of this thing was moving towards them.

The dim light caused the figure to be visible. Chris didn't need another moment to recognise who was on the other end of the chain.

Josh.