{"id":23638,"date":"2026-08-27T09:56:07","date_gmt":"2026-08-27T14:56:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/?p=23638"},"modified":"2026-08-27T09:56:07","modified_gmt":"2026-08-27T14:56:07","slug":"story-time-missing-or-dead-pt-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/2026\/08\/27\/story-time-missing-or-dead-pt-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Story Time: Missing or Dead (pt 1?)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Hey y\u2019all, I\u2019m planning on doing something a little different for these next couple blogs. If you saw my last one, you know that I gave some context on the cult figures. Following that theme, this week’s blog is going to be a part of a story series written by me. (please give any help feedback) I\u2019m going to give you some more of Elijah\u2019s story in a moment. Before I do, I want to say that you will be lost if you didn\u2019t read my prose piece or my last blog. <\/em><\/strong>Sorry not sorry cause I\u2019m not forcing you to be here. So, without further ado. Please enjoy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\u2026As Elijah sets the letter down, a vibration escapes from his phone running on top of his skin. Retrieving it from his pocket, his screen lights up with a picture of his uncle dragging an unconscious Autumn on the ground. Before having time to process the scene in front of him, another message rings out. They\u2019re coordinates; followed by a message from the same number that sent the photo, saying:\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Here. Save her.<\/span><\/p>\n

Autumn! <\/span><\/i>Elijah\u2019s eyes widening as he stares into the blinding light of his phone. Without wasting another minute, he pulls the nearest hoodie over his head, grabbing the car keys from their glass home beside the door. He drives north into the empty night for half an hour or so. The GPS signals the car to take a slight right leading off the smooth pavement and onto a chaotic path cluttered with the forest\u2019s overgrowth.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As Elijah was driving, his phone sang with another unknown message. The text contained detailed instructions. They explained to Elijah that once he pulled off the road to drive for about five minutes. After those few minutes passed, he will see a small opening; there he will find a manchineel tree marked with a red \u2018<\/span>S.<\/span>\u2019 Elijah was then instructed to park his car under the tree and walk for about two kilometers. Which he did.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Elijah did everything the text told him to with a pounding heart and a tear stained face. He was surrounded by trees, stuck in an unfamiliar place and vulnerable to the world encapsulating him, yet his heart hammered along for another. Dread came and blocked all reason and logic in Elijah\u2019s mind. The last person he held concern for was himself as he ran blindly, the trees morphing into fuzzy blobs of deep greens and browns. His sweat, cold and bitter as it fell from down the nape of his neck; he continued onwards leaving all his hesitation locked within his car, only stopping when his narrow path finally broke into a clearing once more. This glade is bigger than the previous one. It houses a barn that’s caught between the teeth of youth and the jaws of time. Sitting neatly in the center as its dim eave lights create a moat, distinguishing the mysteries of dark from those living in the light.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Relief shoots through Elijah\u2019s heart, slowing the rhyme ever so slightly. <\/span>This must be it.<\/span><\/i> After catching his breath, Elijah crawls closer and closer to the barn, attempting to invade the innocent light without detection. In this moment, Elijah\u2019s delusions finally dissolve allowing reality and reason to flood over him. His pace comes almost to a stop as he weighs every option.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

crack. <\/span><\/i>His blood runs cold.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDamn it.\u201d A familiar voice says close to Elijah\u2019s ear. Without giving him time to react, the stranger shoves Elijah forwards forcing him into the light. He tries to fight back, but the stranger won\u2019t allow him the opening to strike. Instead he is pinned to the wall with a thud, knocking the remaining air from his lungs.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As they face one another, both pairs of eyes searching the others for answers, the stranger\u2019s confident grapes suddenly falters.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cElijah?\u201d The stranger cries in disbelief. \u201cNo. You\u2019re supposed to be at home. How did they find you?\u201d He adds, thick panic layering each sentence.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUncle Riche\u2026 where is she?\u201d Elijah pants out angrily. \u201cWhere is Autumn?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

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Ok thanks y\u2019all. This is all for this week, but tune in next week to see what happens next to Elijah, Uncle Riche and Autumn. <\/span><\/p>\n

(also I hope nothing messed up when I copy and pasted this)<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Hey y\u2019all, I\u2019m planning on doing something a little different for these next couple blogs. If you saw my last one, you know that I gave some context on the cult figures. Following that theme, this week’s blog is going to be a part of a story series written by me. (please give any help … Continue reading “Story Time: Missing or Dead (pt 1?)”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":121,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[48,26],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23638"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/121"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=23638"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23638\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23716,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23638\/revisions\/23716"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=23638"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=23638"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=23638"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}