A Scary Story in Spirit of Halloween (Part 1)

      The trees in the black woods tremble in an invisible wind as the moon glowed brighter. Dark clouds blew across the sky, casting threatening shadows down upon the earth. In the heart of the dark, lonely forest, a wolf howl rips through the still, tension filled air. Only one person walks these parts at night, a lost, frightened hiker wandering blindly on the thin, worn dirt paths. A deep rumble of thunder comes from above the looming treetops and the hiker looks up fearfully, blinking back the first raindrops of the storm. A storm right now, in these foreboding parts means certain death unless he finds shelter or a way out of here. Hunching down in his waterproof shell, he forges on, tripping and stumbling his way down a rocky ravine. A railway runs through these parts, closed down many years now. If he can find the tracks, he can follow them out of the woods and into some kind of civilization. At the bottom of the ravine, he squints through the black and the pouring rain to try to make out some sort of evidence that the railway was here. His eyes catch on a large boulder that faces the direction the rain is blowing. There could be some sort of dry area behind it that he could use to get a clearer view of the area and perhaps a few minutes to duck out of the driving rain. Trudging over to the enormous rock, he skids across a few exceptionally slippery rocks to trip over a small, dark figure huddled behind the boulder. With a piercing shriek, the hiker scrambles up and presses himself against the cold, hard boulder, his heart skittering wildly in fright as he gapes at the small child pressing herself against the other side of the rock in obviously equal terror. They stand for a second, looking in a disbelieving shock at the other until the little  girl crumples and begins to weep.
     Born and bred in the southern part of Georgia, the hikers manners would not tolerate allowing a young girl to stay here and cry while he left to find the tracks. Walking slowly, not quite trusting of the strange, lost girl, he crouched down a good five feet away before inquiring after her name. " I-Isabella," she sniffled," And I'm lost, and it's really dark and cold and I can't find my brother!"
     Hoping to calm the frightened child, the hiker gently asked after her brothers name and where she last saw him. With a sob, Isabella managed to whisper," His name's Jeremy and he's twelve and," with with a great wail that shook her frail body cried out," The Sithes got him!"