The night was peaceful.
The stars blinked lazily above the treetops, and the crackling of fire gave the forest air a strange sense of coziness. Ezra sat cross-legged near the fire of Campfire Group Two, her gaze occasionally drifting toward the flickering lights from Noah's side across the campgrounds.
She had caught a glimpse of him earlier—sitting stiffly while that girl Lumi leaned close, smiling and chatting away like they'd known each other for years.
Ezra watched just long enough to see Noah awkwardly scratch the back of his neck and stumble through his own name.
"He's such an idiot," she muttered to herself… then chuckled.
She didn't feel jealous. Not really. Just… amused.
That was until a group of girls plopped down beside her in a circle, and the questions started.
"Hey Ezra, so—what's going on between you and Noah?"
"Yeah! You two are always together. Is he like… your boyfriend or something?"
"He's kind of cute though. And the way he talks? He's like, low key sigma."
"I heard he punched someone once in seventh grade. Such a mystery guy."
Ezra blinked, caught off guard.
"Huh? Wait, what—no! We're not… dating. Or anything. We just… hang out, that's all."
They laughed, nudging each other.
"Suuure," one of them said, grinning.
"Don't lie to us," another teased. "You guys act like the main characters in a show."
Ezra gave a dry smile, screaming inside.
Aren't we a little young for this kind of drama?
Eventually, their playful interrogation wore her out. But then the questions shifted.
One of the girls leaned closer, voice lowered with curiosity edged in a colder tone.
"But like… why do you guys hang around Quinn and Jamie?"
Another joined in.
"Yeah, I mean—no offense or whatever—but isn't Quinn, like… adopted? And doesn't her elder brother take care of her and his juniors alone? His parents disappeared or something, right?"
The girls went quiet for a beat, then whispered more.
"I heard Jamie had a breakdown once and started yelling at a mirror during gym."
"They're always getting involved in weird stuff."
Ezra frowned, her tone turning sharp.
"I'm an orphan. I live with my grams," she said simply.
The words left her mouth like a cold wind. The girls all froze.
"Oh. Uh. I—I didn't mean it like that—" one of them stammered.
"It's fine," Ezra said flatly.
The silence lingered awkwardly until someone desperately changed the topic.
"S-So! Have you guys heard about the Rainbow Beast?"
Ezra gave a sideways glance. The girl continued, trying too hard to sound excited.
"They say it lives in the Willow Forest. It only appears to people who've committed sins. Like, it judges you. And if you're not worthy, it drags you away and eats your soul."
"That's not how it goes," another girl interrupted. "The Rainbow Beast doesn't eat you. It breaks you. It twists your memories. It makes you forget who you are until you go mad. It doesn't punish the bad. It just likes the taste of fear."
Ezra shivered slightly, but leaned in.
Before she could speak, some of the boys in their group overheard and shuffled over, jumping into the conversation with eagerness.
Even Mrs. Marlowe, curious, walked closer and stood nearby, arms folded but smiling.
One of the boys—tall, with curly hair and a voice that cracked every few words—spoke over everyone.
"Okay, okay, listen. My dad's a hunter. A real one, not like a weekend camper. He told me once that one of his colleagues—some guy named Ted—claimed he knew a guy who actually saw the Rainbow Beast."
The fire cracked softly.
"They say it shows up like wind and color, impossible to track. But if it finds you… it doesn't hurt you at first. No. It messes with your mind. You start to forget things. Names. Faces. People."
The other kids grew quieter.
"And if you're not careful—" he leaned forward— "it steals your whole identity. Leaves behind something that looks like you. But isn't."
Ezra raised a brow.
"So… like a reflection?"
The boy shrugged.
"Kind of. But twisted. And worse—there's always a woman. A lady in white, with eyes like static, walking beside it. She doesn't talk. Doesn't blink. They say she was the first victim. And now she walks with the beast, helping it pick its next meal."
Mrs. Marlowe clapped softly, trying to diffuse the rising tension.
"Alright, alright. Let's not scare everyone into insomnia," she said with a light laugh. "It's just a legend."
But Ezra wasn't smiling.
She stared into the woods, past the firelight, where the dark seemed to lean just a little too close.
Far from camp, deeper than even the wildlife dared go, the fog churned.
The sound of whispers flitted between trees like threads of silk pulling tight.
In the distance, two enormous pink eyes opened within the mist.
And far beyond the beast, within a crooked wooden house twisted into the bark of an ancient tree, a frail hand of pale white reached for the door handle.
The wood creaked.
And something stepped outside.