The air in Hälsingland was thick and suffocating. Even with the crisp, cool breeze, Dani Ardor felt like the world was pressing down on her, squeezing the breath from her lungs. She stood in the middle of the vast meadow, the scent of wildflowers almost too sweet, too perfect. Everything here was too perfect. The bright, shining faces of the Hårga community moved around her, dressed in white, smiles plastered on their faces like they had never known pain, like they had never experienced loss. It was unnerving.
Dani's eyes drifted to the sky. Even the sun never seemed to set here, casting a pale, golden light that never wavered. It made time feel... wrong. It had been days, weeks—she didn't know anymore—since she and Christian had come to this place. And now, she was alone.
"I used to call my mom every Sunday, so she knew her love wasn't far away…"
The memory of her family hit her hard, the image of her sister and parents flashing in her mind like a cruel joke. It had been months since they died—since her sister had taken them both in that horrific accident—but the grief still clung to her like a second skin. She tried to push the thoughts away, but they gnawed at her, always there, lurking in the shadows of her mind.
She had come to this strange place, hoping for peace, hoping to escape the weight of everything. But instead, something deeper, something more unsettling, had taken root inside her. The village, the rituals, the endless, empty smiles—they should have been a comfort. The Hårga had accepted her, taken her in like she was one of their own, but it felt wrong.
"Now I'm all messed up out in this open place, like I'm standing on the edge of a knife…"
Dani swallowed hard, glancing at the members of the community, her eyes flicking over their serene faces. They moved like they were part of one organism, in perfect harmony with each other. She felt like an intruder, out of place, like she didn't belong. But they never treated her like that. They treated her like something... precious.
A figure approached her, walking gracefully across the meadow. Pelle. He was always there, hovering just on the edge of her vision, like he was waiting for something. His smile was soft, inviting, but Dani felt a cold shiver run down her spine as he stopped in front of her.
"You seem troubled," he said, his voice gentle. "Are you not happy here?"
Dani blinked, her throat tightening. She wanted to say something, to tell him the truth. No, she wasn't happy. She wasn't happy because this place was too quiet, too still. It felt like she was trapped in a dream, and she couldn't wake up.
But the words stuck in her throat. She forced a smile, the kind that never quite reached her eyes. "I'm fine, Pelle. I'm just... tired."
Pelle's eyes never left her, his gaze piercing. "You don't have to hide your feelings here, Dani. We are all one. We feel what you feel. We share your pain."
Dani's heart raced as she looked into his eyes. She knew he meant it. This place—the Hårga—they didn't just empathize with each other. They shared emotions in a way that was almost... supernatural. It terrified her.
"I know," Dani whispered, her voice barely audible. "It's just... hard."
Pelle reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. His touch was gentle, but it felt heavy, like it was pulling her down into something she couldn't escape. "It's okay to feel lost," he said. "We've all felt it at some point. But you are not alone. You have us now. You have family."
"They always said I'd change for the better, but I didn't change in the way they wanted…"
Family. The word echoed in Dani's mind, and she felt her chest tighten. This place had offered her something she had been craving for so long—belonging. A family that would never leave her, never abandon her. But the way they looked at her, the way they watched her with that unrelenting attention, it was suffocating. It felt like they were molding her into something, changing her in ways she didn't fully understand.
"I... I need to be alone for a bit," Dani said, pulling away from Pelle's touch, her voice shaking.
Pelle frowned slightly, but he didn't stop her. "Of course," he said softly. "But remember, Dani, we are always with you."
Dani nodded, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She turned and walked toward the edge of the meadow, her feet moving quickly through the tall grass. As she walked, the whispers of the villagers faded into the distance, leaving her alone with the constant hum of insects and the unnerving silence of the sunlit forest.
She didn't know where she was going, but she had to get away. Away from the eyes that watched her every move, away from the strange pull that seemed to draw her deeper into this place. It was like the ground was alive beneath her feet, tugging her down, down, down into the earth.
"I used to be strong, now I'm just tired…"
Dani stumbled, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She stopped at the edge of a small stream, the water flowing quietly over the rocks. She knelt down, her hands trembling as she dipped her fingers into the cool water, trying to ground herself, to feel something real.
But as she looked into the water, her reflection stared back at her, warped and distorted. For a moment, she didn't recognize the woman looking back at her. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and empty, her mouth twisted into a frown. She blinked, and suddenly the reflection smiled back at her—a wicked, knowing smile that sent a chill through her entire body.
Dani recoiled, stumbling back from the stream, her heart racing. Her mind was playing tricks on her, she knew that. But there was something else. Something deeper, darker, lurking beneath the surface.
She heard a rustle behind her, and she spun around, her breath catching in her throat. Standing a few feet away was one of the older women from the village, her face expressionless, her eyes locked on Dani.
"You shouldn't be alone out here," the woman said, her voice soft but firm. "It's not safe to wander off."
Dani swallowed, her mouth dry. "I just needed some space."
The woman stepped closer, her movements slow, deliberate. "We are all connected here, Dani. There is no space. There is no alone. We share everything."
Dani's skin prickled with unease. She wanted to scream, to run, but her body felt frozen in place. The woman's eyes bored into her, like she could see straight through Dani's skin, straight into her soul.
"And I hate the way I feel, but I can't seem to change it…"
"I don't belong here," Dani whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't feel right."
The woman's expression didn't change, but her voice softened, almost pitying. "You belong more than you know, Dani. You have always belonged. It is the outside world that has lied to you. Here, you are free."
Free. The word sounded hollow in Dani's ears. This place didn't feel like freedom. It felt like a cage. A cage she was being slowly locked into, piece by piece.
She shook her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "No. I need to leave. I need to go."
The woman's eyes darkened, her voice low and dangerous. "There is no leaving, Dani. You are one of us now."
Dani backed away, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned and ran, her feet pounding against the earth as she sprinted back toward the village. Her thoughts were a blur, panic rising in her throat like bile. She had to get out. She had to escape before it was too late.
But as she reached the edge of the meadow, she stopped dead in her tracks. The villagers were waiting for her, standing in perfect rows, their faces serene, their eyes locked on her. Pelle was at the front, his smile calm and knowing.
"Dani," he said softly, stepping forward. "You don't need to run. This is your home now. You are one of us."
Dani's breath hitched, her eyes darting around the group. There was no escape. She was trapped.
"But I miss the way it was before…"
Tears filled her eyes as she realized the truth. She had been running for so long—running from her grief, from her pain, from herself. And now, there was nowhere left to run.
The villagers closed in around her, their hands reaching out, pulling her into their embrace. She felt their warmth, their smiles, their breath against her skin. It was suffocating.
And yet, as the sun continued to shine, never setting, never offering the relief of night, Dani realized that this was her life now. This was her family. And no matter how much she wanted to, she could never leave.
Because in this place, there was no escape.
