cryp·tid noun
A creature whose existence is disputed.
1987
The small car shook as it careened down the road, plunging deeper into the dark forest. Henry tightened his grip on the backseat armrest, concentrating on breathing through his nose so his dinner didn't end up in his lap.
Violet leaned forward, catching Henry's eye. They were in the backseat together, behind Caleb and his girlfriend, Roz. Henry peeled his gaze away from his knees—his gut couldn't bear to watch the blur outside the window—to look up at her. She gave him a warm, heartening smile that made Henry's throat tighten for another reason.
"Sorry," she whispered, leaning closer. "I should've warned you about Caleb's driving."
Henry turned his gaze down again. It was hard to hold anyone's eye, but if he had to, he'd prefer it be hers. Her eyes were a perfect shade of blue, so deep that they verged on purple, like her name. He tried to force a smile of his own, but his jaw was tight from being clamped shut to stem the threat of puke. "It's okay," he muttered back through gritted teeth.
She must've heard the pain in his voice. "We'll be there soon," she said, reaching over and touching his arm. "Promise." Withdrawing her hand, she leaned back and left Henry to his struggle.
Violet seemed to understand that Henry preferred the quiet, especially if he was uncomfortable. He didn't need small talk to fill the space. He hated nothing more than when people fretted over him, buzzing around him like annoying flies. Violet was more like a butterfly, the gentle flap of her wings barely disturbing the air; that's why he liked her.
Violet was the whole reason Henry was in this car. He never got invited to these things, not that it bothered him. To him, crowds and parties and strangers were annoying at best, terrifying at worst. But when Violet approached him in the hall on the last day of school, he couldn't say no. He'd seen her around school, noticed her blue eyes, her fluffy white-blonde hair. He'd always wanted to talk to her, but he never imagined that she'd be interested in someone like him...
But she invited him to the party, the first of the summer, and even seemed happy when he said yes, though he could barely meet her eye. She told him what time her friends would stop by and pick him up, and that was that. Henry was surprised to find himself... excited.
Hopeful.
He hadn't realized the party was going to be in the middle of the woods, or that the ride would be this bumpy.
But soon, just as Violet had promised, the car slowed. The trees outside the window unblurred and then parted, opening into a clearing. It looked like had once been a worksite of some kind, crumbling concrete structures looming in the corners. In the center was an already roaring bonfire, the shadows of his classmates dotted around it.
Roz rolled down the window and stuck her head out as Caleb pulled the car alongside the line of already parked vehicles.
"Whoooooo!" she called to the crowd.
The crowd responded in kind.
Finally, the car shuddered to a stop and Henry let out a great sigh. Caleb and Roz wasted no time; they hopped out without a glance back at their other passengers.
Violet made no move to get out. "Ready?" she asked Henry.
Henry peeled his fingers off the armrest and shakily undid the seatbelt from around his waist. "I-I think so."
"Let's go," she said. "I'll introduce you to everyone." She popped open the door and stepped out.
Henry followed her, though he didn't know why he'd need to be introduced. He already knew everyone here. They'd been in school together since kindergarten—or earlier if you counted Miss Daisy's Preschool & Daycare. But he didn't dare question Violet, especially when she slipped her arm through his, dragging him towards the ring of fire.
The ground beneath Henry's feet was well worn, beaten down by the years of visitors, sneaking out into the forest to share a beer. It was simply known as The Clearing and he knew this place, even though he'd never been here. His older sister Bethany had, though, and she told him all about the 'righteous' parties thrown here over the years. She had asked him if he wanted to tag along a few times, but he'd never worked up the courage to go.
Until tonight.
It was a beautiful night. The sky above was clear, cloudless. The peaks of the trees that surrounded the clearing stretched up towards the glittering stars like fingers reaching to catch them.
"Josie!" Violet called, pulling Henry forwards to a group of people standing by the bonfire.
Josie turned. Henry knew her from Biology—she had objected to dissecting a frog during their anatomy lab—and her colossal mohawk was hard to miss. She was the only one in town with hair like that. Henry was surprised that someone like Violet ran in the same circles as Josie.
"Hi Vee," Josie said, turning to greet her with a smile. "Who's that on your arm?"
"You know Henry," Violet said, pulling him closer to her.
"Is that who it is?" Josie said, leaning in closer, but her sly smile told Henry that she indeed knew who he was. "Sorry, it's so hard to see people's faces in the firelight."
"Be nice," Violet warned.
Josie gave Violet a look. Henry thought that Violet might've given her a look right back, but when he turned to look at her, her face shifted suddenly into a smile, wiping it clear.
"So, Henry," Josie began, "what made you decide to finally come to one of our illustrious gatherings?" She motioned to the groups of people scattered around the clearing. It seemed like all of his classmates were there.
"Um," was all Henry could answer.
"I invited him," Violet said, stepping in.
"That was awful nice of you, Vee," Josie replied, sounding dubious. "Can I get you a beer, Henry? It'll help take the edge off."
Beer. Henry had no interest in beer, but he didn't think he was in a position to refuse. Besides, he definitely had edges that needed to be dulled. "S-Sure."
Henry didn't understand why everyone had always made such a big deal out of beer. He held his red cup and swilled its dull brown contents. Now that he'd had it, he was not impressed. It just tasted like dirt and sour juice. And he didn't feel any of the mythical 'courage' that people claimed that beer bestowed. Instead, he just felt a little over-warm, but that might've been his position sitting on a log at the fire's edge.
He took another swig from his beer, just for something to do. Violet—detecting that Henry didn't like the beer—had stepped away to get them something else to drink, but along the way, she'd gotten pulled into a conversation with another group of her friends. She seemed to have a lot of friends. Everyone seemed to like Violet.
It made Henry wonder why she was wasting her time on him...
He finished his cup before crunching it up and tossing it into the fire. It sizzled and squealed as the plastic melted down to a red blob.
What am I doing here?
Henry wished he hadn't come. He wished he had listened to that little voice inside, the one that warned him to stay home in case something terrible happened. Something terrible always happened. Especially to him...
Violet plopped down on the log beside him. "Sorry," she said. "I had to say hi. I got you something less... beer-y." She offered him a new red cup. This one hissed slightly with carbonation.
"Thanks," he said. The ugly thoughts from before already dissipating. He took a sip, eager to wash away the aftertaste of the beer—then immediately spat it out. It tasted like coke, but there was something sharper there.
"What's the matter?" Violet asked, worry plain in her voice. "Oh no, they didn't..." She took a sip from her drink and grimaced. "Those idiots, they put vodka in it. I'm sorry. I told them just to give me pop, but you know how Gunnar is." She muttered under her breath, "Idiot."
"It's okay," Henry said, but he put the cup down on the ground at his feet.
Violet sighed. "I'm sorry you're not having fun," she said. "I thought you might enjoy it if you just came, but I can see now that this really isn't your thing."
"No, no," Henry said quickly, trying to soothe her. He didn't want to make her upset. "It's just... new to me. I take a little while to warm up to new things."
That made her smile, and Henry was relieved. "Speaking of warming up," she said, and she inched closer to him, pressing herself against his arm. "It gets quite cold out here, doesn't it?"
"Does it?" Henry echoed, his voice inching higher. By the fire, it was so warm, almost too warm. But he couldn't stop thinking about how close and warm Violet was, too.
He chanced a peek at her. She was gazing up at him, her eyes bright and dancing with the flames of the fire. They seemed to pull him in... Or maybe that was her coming closer, pursing her lips as she neared.
"I-I have to, uh, use the bathroom," he sputtered, suddenly leaping up from his seat. Violet almost fell off the log as he slipped out of her grasp.
"Oh, uh, okay," she muttered, but she didn't look up to meet his eye. "You can, uh, just go in the woods. All the boys do."
"T-Thanks," Henry said before striding away, heading for the treeline. He passed by other groups of people, some of who glanced at him as he passed. He ignored them.
He disappeared beneath the bows of the trees and into the shadows.
Again, he wished he was anywhere but here. He had been sure that Violet had wanted to kiss him—kiss! him!—and there wasn't anything he wanted more. So why had he run away? He smacked himself in the head, cursing himself. How foolish could he be? Another smack, then another. He had ruined everything like he always did—
The crack of a branch underfoot pulled him out of his spiral. He stopped hitting himself and looked around. It was dark out here, really dark. He could barely make out his own hands. The trees were just black shapes against the navy of the sky and the bonfire was a distant glow beyond the trees.
Henry realized that he had wandered farther into the woods than he had intended.
Another snap of a twig, a shuffle of steps, but not his.
He wasn't alone out here.
Of course, I'm not, he reminded himself. He was at a party. It had to be another partier, someone else who'd come out here if nature called.
Maybe they would help him find his way back.
"H-Hello?" he called out in the darkness.
But there was no answer.
Chills prickled along Henry's neck. He thought of asking again, but decided against it; other kinds of nature drew his classmates to the more private parts of the forest and he knew they wouldn't want to be interrupted. He already had a reputation as a bit of a weirdo—he didn't need to get labelled a pervert, too.
Then Violet would never speak to him again.
Violet. He needed to get back to her. Even if the mere thought of it turned his blood to ice, he needed to make it right, somehow. He could be brave if he needed to, right?
He turned and headed towards the safe glow of the fire. He kept his eyes ahead, careful not to look into the passing bushes and undergrowth, just in case he caught a glimpse of too much skin.
But no matter how quickly he walked, he never seemed to get closer to the clearing. He wove around tree after tree, but still, the glow was far beyond, like a taunting wisp that only led him further and further into the forest. He took longer strides, trying his best to watch his step in the dark. Panic began to rise in his chest. Despite living in this mountain town for all his life, the forest always made him nervous. It was just too easy for someone to lose their way out here...
Henry was running now, stumbling over roots and logs, but no matter how hard he ran, the clearing got no nearer. The glow of the fire remained just out of his reach.
Maybe this was all the beer's doing. Maybe this was just him being drunk. If this was being drunk, then Henry hated it. He'd never drink again.
Crack.
The sound was right behind him now.
He stopped and whipped around, the move so violent it toppled him over. He hoped to find another partier, someone who'd help lead him back to safety. He didn't care if they laughed at him or told everyone what a coward he was. He just wanted out.
But it was no person. The figure in the shadows was too tall, too wide, their limbs too long. And when they—it—moved, Henry could hear the thick rustle of... feathers.
As it closed in, all Henry could do was scream.