Four: Shadows in plain sight

                                    

                                          

Nathan checked the coordinates again. His phone glowed faintly in the dim light of the streetlamps as he punched the numbers into his GPS. St. Elisabeth's—the supposed place Cassandra mentioned in her cryptic letters—was far outside the city limits, past the familiar roads he traveled for work. He wasn't sure why he was even going, but the pull was there, like an itch he couldn't ignore.
As he started driving, the city slowly faded away, replaced by long stretches of empty highway and trees standing like shadowy sentinels along the road. The sun had set not long ago, but the sky seemed unnaturally dark. The stars were hidden behind thick clouds, and the moon barely managed to pierce the veil.
About twenty minutes into the drive, the hum of his engine and the crackle of his malfunctioning radio were the only sounds. Nathan fiddled with the dial, hoping to find some music or at least something to break the silence, but all that came through was static. He let out a frustrated sigh, rolling his shoulders, trying to ease the tension building up in his back.
Suddenly, through the hiss of the radio, a voice broke through.
"—Is it safe?"
Nathan's hand froze on the dial. He thought it might've been some interference from a nearby station, but then the voice crackled again, more distinct this time.
"—Can you hear me?"
He glanced at the radio. The words were clear but distorted, like they were coming from a far-off place. He twisted the knob, but nothing changed. The static swallowed the voice again, leaving him unsettled.
As he drove further, the trees seemed to close in on either side of the road. They loomed closer, their branches tangled like skeletal fingers reaching toward his car. Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan swore he saw figures standing between the trees. Tall, unmoving shadows, almost like people watching him from the darkness. Every time he tried to get a better look, they were gone.
The air outside grew heavier, colder. A light mist began to curl over the road, clinging to the asphalt like ghostly tendrils. The road was empty; no other cars, no streetlights, just him and the eerie, encroaching fog. He flicked his high beams on, the harsh light barely cutting through the thickening mist.
Then the radio clicked back on.
"—Turn back—"
Nathan's grip on the steering wheel tightened. He glanced at the radio again, his heart thudding. The voice, distorted and warped, sounded more like a warning this time.
"—Turn around—"
He ignored it, though his instincts screamed otherwise. Cassandra was there—or at least something important. He couldn't just turn back now. He forced his gaze back on the road, refusing to let paranoia take over.
Another few miles passed. The mist grew thicker, and with it, an uneasy feeling that crawled up Nathan's spine. The figures he had seen earlier seemed to appear more frequently. Some stood by the side of the road, just beyond the edge of his headlights, while others seemed to flicker in and out, like mirages. And always, they were watching him.
A sharp crackle of static burst from the radio, making him jump.
"—Too late—"
Nathan's chest tightened. He slammed the radio off, the silence now almost worse than the eerie voices. His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror. For a split second, he thought he saw someone sitting in the back seat—pale and unmoving—but when he looked again, it was gone.
A low growl of thunder rumbled in the distance, and the first droplets of rain splattered against the windshield. As the downpour began, the mist swirled more aggressively, dancing in unnatural patterns across the road. The GPS chimed suddenly, its mechanical voice eerily calm.