Darkness cradled me in its arms.

There was a tickle at the back of my neck as the woods stood still. Not a single sound was heard across the vast forest. I waited for my eyes to adjust, both curious and afraid of what may lie before me. Gooseflesh prickled my exposed arms, but all I could think about was the cake that would be waiting for me at home. Sweet sixteen. I hope it was red velvet with a heavy dose of cream cheese frosting. I wondered if my sister had made the special punch that I loved. But I couldn’t go home until I finished what I came here for.

I took another tentative step, well aware that only because I couldn’t see them didn’t mean that the red eyes weren’t watching, hidden behind brush or gnarled limbs. Again, I felt a tickle at the back of my neck. I stopped. Not yet. My fingers wrapped around the only weapon I had brought along with me.

Sometimes I despised my family’s eccentric traditions. This was one of them. Every Myrige daughter was tasked with crossing Ember Woods on their sixteenth birthday. It was a rite of passage. Why? I could only find out once I was on the other side. My ears perked for any sounds and when it was clear that there were none, I started to half jog down the worn path that now, after my eyes adjusted to the darkness, could see.

How many Myrige girls had walked blindly into the woods not knowing what would lie before them? When had the tradition begun and why were the origins such a huge secret whenever I tried to ponder?

Then I heard it.

Footsteps.

I stopped. There was a tickle at the back of my neck. Only this time it was different. This time teeth followed. I yelped quickly turning around to meet the offender.

“Drew!” I exclaimed when I caught sight of who had nipped me.

He laughed unable to contain himself. “You should’ve seen your face, Marlo!”

“I told you not to follow me!”

“I know, but when you said that I thought you were ditching me to see another boy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, I told you that I had a family affair that I needed to tend to.”

“Honestly, who isn’t allowed to spend their most important birthday with their boyfriend?”

“This girl,” I said and turned around. I continued walking, watching the moon slowly peek through the clouds. I clutched the weapon hidden in my letterman jacket. It’s almost time. Dread seized my chest, stifling it like a set of bricks.

“What’s the hurry?” Drew chuckled, grabbing hold of my free hand to spin me around to face him. “I’d almost say these creepy woods could be romantic,” and his lips grazed my own. I allowed myself to abandon in the kiss before I sunk the blade deep into his belly. Blood spilled from his parted lips. Confusion knitted his brows.

“I’m sorry,” I shrugged. “It’s a family tradition.”

Then the eyes came out from the woods and everyone was dressed in black robes.

“About time,” my mother stepped out. Then she knelt down and dipped her fingers into Drew’s wound and rose up to meet me.

“Happy birthday, now you’re a true Myrige witch,” she said carefully painting an upside-down cross on my forehead with Drew’s blood. Some of it trickled down to my lips and my tongue flickered at the metallic liquid.

“Tastes just like red velvet,” I smirked.

*This short story was recently made into a short film! I’ll share the video once it’s available.

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