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s0c0ld0utside · 2 days ago

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The Ranger

Summary: What was supposed to be a hike in the world’s most paranormal forest turned into being stuck in a cabin with no memory as to how you got there. Your captor doesn’t speak a word, but is attentive. Is he plotting something? You don’t know. You need to leave, and an opportunity presents itself. Warnings: Not proofread. Descriptions of upsetting news reports, kidnapped Reader, manipulative/desperate language, manipulative, obsessive and dark possesive behavior, violence, mind control...kinda (it's really mind influencing?) an attempt at horror. Notices: Setting is a fictional place. The dynamic in this fic is unhealthy, and just because it's fiction doesn't mean it's okay.

Lithalsa National Forest is known by many names. The Luring Wood. The Murder Forest. The “Missing-Person-Last-Seen-Here” hotspot. Every Serial Killer’s Hideout. It’s on the local news networks every day. Missing Teen’s Body found fifteen miles into the Lithalsa National Forest. Missing father found dead twenty miles away from Litalsa National Forest campgrounds. Highschooler last seen straying from Lithalsa National Forest hiking trail. Woman’s body found covered in odd claw marks in Lithalsa National Forest. What was up with that forest, anyway? It wasn’t enough for the land to be weird and misshapen, but the atmosphere just had to be abnormal, too. Campers would end their trips early at least two hours after arrival. Hikers always turned around before they even went above ten minutes on a trail. Mediums and paranormal YouTubers flocked to the place, calling it a “portal to the other side” and a place full of “malevolent energy.” Visitors always reported feeling paranoid and uneasy. Claimed they saw creatures and “unwell” persons and heard strange things at night. Claimed they could hear voices asking them to “come look at this” or calling for help. Screaming and crying. Sometimes, singing. Claimed the wildlife behaved strangely. No one in their right mind would come here.

You knew all of this, but wanted to go anyway. Wanted to try being the exception to the strange place like many others. You wouldn’t get lost. You wouldn’t hear any spooky voices. You wouldn’t see weird beasties or get scared and chicken out. No, you were going to hike a trail, and enjoy it, and come out just fine. In short, you were foolish and naive. With your backpack slung over your shoulders and your water bottle clipped to your insulating cargo pants, you ventured off into the winter forest. Snow and ice crunched under your boots with each step, a shifting sound as your shoes sank into the semi-frozen powder...

~~~

That was…three weeks ago? You can’t remember. It was some time ago but not too long. You don’t quite remember what happened, but whatever it was, it ended up with you in your current spot: strapped to a wooden chair at some dinner table (your arms are free for the first time in a while), in a home that wasn’t yours, with your host (read: captor(?)) serving you a bowl of some sort of stew. Meat- lamb, maybe? Potatoes, carrots, some herbs, garlic, onions, beef broth and red wine. Whatever is in it, it looks and smells good. Fire crackled in the fireplace, warming up the cozy cabin that you’ve been stuck in. Your host set a glass of water down next to your bowl before handing you a spoon (wooden, and seemingly hand made), looking at you expectantly. The two of you hadn’t really spoken much since you first met. Just the reasonable reaction of screaming when you woke up on day one (he had shushed you several times), then it was asking over and over who he was and what he wanted (he never answered), now it’s you commenting on things. He never seemed to take an issue with it.

Today, you asked a question that had been on your mind for a while.

“How are you not burning up in all of that?” You asked, pointing at him with the spoon. He was always wearing your typical winter gear- thermal undershirts, a sweatshirt on top, a heavy winter coat with a ridiculous amount of pockets, thermal pants (assumingly, you’d be more surprised if he wasn’t wearing those) underneath ski pants, and boots. His face was always hidden by a wool balaclava and snow visor, a ushanka as the finishing touch. He pulls out the chair next to you and sits down in it, gaze still fixed on you…you think. The man stared at you for a moment before gesturing at your stew with his head. “You’re sweating under all that, aren’t you?” He’s frozen for a moment longer, bringing his hands up to the table. He drums his fingers, looking away just a tiny bit. You smirk. This is insane. You’ve been kidnapped by this guy and he’s been pampering you since and despite every horrific scenario running through your head, he’s never once proven them true and now you’re taunting him at dinner. “I knew it.” The man takes your spoon, scoops up a piece of meat, carrot, and broth in it, and presses it to your lips. “What are y-” He shoves the portion into your mouth, broth running down the wrong airway and making you cough. You cough through the chewing whilst he raises his hands awkwardly in a panic, and you take a swig of water to swallow it down. “Jerk,” you huff, clearing your throat. “Would it really kill you to talk to me?” The man halts, twiddling his fingers as if he’s hyping himself up. You hear him inhale-

-And then a radio crackles to life. “Frost?” Your host perks up, his head turning in the direction of the room the radio is in. He gets up from his seat and leaves you, hurrying down the hall and- taking out a key from his pocket- unlocks the door and steps inside, closing the door behind him. The radio volume is turned down and you can hear another voice- your captor’s voice- respond faintly. You strain your ears and lean forward the best you can to listen. “One of our rangers in the Southeast Watchtower just called in. Said she saw one of those things again.” More quiet words spoken in response. Curse that balaclava. “Okay, good. Be safe.” The man leaves the room, shuts the door, and locks it again. He looks over at you, and you two gaze at each other for a moment. “…That sounded urgent.” You say dumbly. He tilts his head at you. Will you stay put? You can imagine him asking. “What else can I do other than eat this lovely meal you made me?” You ask. He tilts his head further. Then he shrugs, sighs, and walks past you, making sure to ruffle your hair with his gloved hands. You hear him lock the front door before heading into what you can assume is some sort of garage and locks that door, too. You can still hear him- grabbing something off of a metal rack and leaving through a backdoor.

You recite your ABC’s three times before going at the ropes holding your legs down. In a little under twenty minutes you’re free. You do make a point to finish the stew and drink the water before hunting down your winter gear that you had for your hike. All the meals the guy had served you were well made, and as far as you could tell, he didn’t put any odd substances in them, either. Thinking back on your time here, you were treated very well. Warm, heavy and thick blankets. A comfy bed and pillows. He had come back with extra clothes for you several days ago. He wasn’t touchy or invasive- with the exception of meal times. You were always strapped down to the chair and supervised. The guest room he kept you locked up in had a bathroom, so there was no reason for you to leave. Life was good here.

You shouldn’t be thinking like that.

You smack your cheeks, trying to snap yourself out of it. This guy was keeping you captive. To hell with the hospitality! Rifling through the available closets, you found your coat and boots neatly put away. Pulling your coat off the hanger, you were about to sling it over your shoulders when the sight of torn fabric gave you pause. …Those weren’t there before, and it seemed to be caused by some sort of animal. Had he saved you? Maybe that’s why he was keeping you here. You should stay.

No. if he wanted to help you, he would’ve taken you to a hospital or something. Not lock you up in his frustratingly cozy cabin for weeks.

Returning your focus to escaping, your first thoughts are finding a skeleton key- until your gaze lands on the glass doors leading into the backyard. Tall pines, white snow, and pale gray sky waited outside. The only things keeping the doors shut were the small, long logs the man had stuck in the sliding areas. …So maybe this guy wasn’t the brightest. Or he thought you were dumb enough not to see that. Or maybe he genuinely thought you’d stay put. Why did that make you feel guilty? “Moron,” you scoff to no one. You remove one of the logs and slide the door open, stepping out into the winter wonderland once more.

Please go back inside.

Run! Flee!

You ignore the voice in your head pleading with you to stay. It was odd- like you had two consciences that were arguing with each other. Was this the devil and angel on a person’s shoulders that the cartoons would talk about? If that was the case, staying was the temptation and you refused. You made your way to the end of the yard and climbed over the wooden fence, and it did not take you five minutes to do so. You also did not fall into the snow once you got to the other side. Now it was time to find a main road. Through a forest where the ground was uneven and awkward because of all the raised land masses and tree roots.

Don’t do this.

Or a trail. As you walked, you made sure to keep quiet, listening to the birds above chirp and hear other small woodland creatures chitter.

You’re putting yourself in danger.

So far, so good. You’d occasionally glance over your shoulder to see the smoke rising from the chimney get farther and farther.

Come back. Come back, please.

Thirteen minutes in, you could hear the running waters of a creek. You look up. The sky is getting darker. Once again, you are a fool.

You should’ve just stayed home.

For once, you agree with the tempting voice. You were so caught up in getting out of there that you didn’t think to bring a flashlight. However, you didn’t want to go back. Your captor would definitely know you left- he’d probably return home just as soon as you got home. You didn’t want to risk it. The horror scenarios played in your head again. He gets angry. Hurts you. Makes it slow and agonizing. Cuts up your body and spreads the parts around the forest and you become the next follow up news report.

I’d never do that.

A branch snaps, and everything gets quiet. Too quiet. You didn’t notice at first. You shook off the tempting voice, ignoring how soothing it sounded, and kept walking. A tuneless hum leaves your mouth, filling up the silence. Something hums back, it’s noise making your stomach drop to the floor and your chest hollow. The hair on the back of your neck raises, and a tingle runs down your spine. Paranoia settles in quick. The blood in your veins runs cold. Your heart begins to pound. Something hums at you again, off tune and grating. The world seemed to get darker. Hopefully, it’s just some clouds blocking out the sun. Swallowing, you slowly look up.

Sunken, frozen, pale eyes meet your gaze. The creature was in the corner of your vision- clinging to a pine, looking as though it were crawling down the tree before you spotted it. Human like with the posture of a mantis, lips tugged down in a permanent, agonized frown. Long, thin fingers clutching at the bark. Back legs wrapped around the wood. Skin tight fitting on it’s bones. It’s head is misshapen, lumpy and stretched and all wrong. Omnivorous teeth, a serious overbite, breathing through it’s mouth. Drool leaked out through the gaps of it’s teeth, and the thing tilted its head at you. Ragged, awkward breaths. Slowly, the thin, bald creature opened it’s mouth as wide as it would go and let out a shriek that made you want to empty your hollow guts and cry before scrambling down the tree. You screamed back in terror, taking off further the woods. Low hanging branches tug and rip up your stolen coat. They scratch at your face. The air is so much colder and your cheeks sting from the cuts. Hot air plumes from your mouth and nose. You can hear it behind you- it’s hands and feet stirring up the snow, shrieking incessantly. Birds scatter above, chriping calls of alarm. The pines are caging you in.

It’s the most horrifying five minutes of your life, and the chase is cut short by the cursed thing jumping for you and landing on your back. You scream louder, pushing at the ground and thrashing whilst the beast sinks its fingers into your sides and sinks it’s teeth into your collarbone, trying to tear through layers of clothing keeping you warm. You’re cold. So, so cold. Snow is slipping underneath your clothes and into your boots. Through all your screaming you can’t hear the crunching in the snow, nor the sound of air being cut. What you do hear is the squishy, cracking, wet noise of something getting lodged in the monster’s skull. The thing wails in agony, and it’s pulled off of you. You don’t look behind you. You simply get up and keep running. Whoever saved you pulled the weapon out with a disgusting squelch and slams it back into the skull. One foot in front of the other. You can hear the wailing and crying getting quieter and quieter. It’s irritating. It was just trying to kill you, and now it’s playing victim? You had half a mind to turn around and join in on killing the thing. That thought makes you pause.

…Someone saved you. Someone saved you and you just left them to the monster.

Don’t go back.

You do exactly that. It’s a stupid decision. You still haven’t fully processed that you just got attacked by a monster or that whoever was on the radio knew that it was out here, and that your captor did, too.

I was just trying to keep you safe.

One foot in front of the other, as quickly as you can on shaky legs.

You’ll let me keep you safe now that you understand a little, right?

Someone grabs you by the arm and tugs gently, earning a startled shriek from you. You whirl around-

You’ll let me keep you, right?

Ushanka. Snow visor. Balaclava. Heavy winter coat with a fur hood. His right glove is off, revealing a pale hand. He reaches out to cup your cheek.

Let me keep you.

~~~

Everything is dark, warm, and fuzzy. It’s…comforting. Sinking. You’re sinking and it’s nice and it’s safe.

That’s it. You can trust me. This place is good. It’s good.

Yes, it’s good. You feel young again- back to single digits in your childhood bedroom. Wrapped up in cozy blankets soft and silky to the touch. A rainbow nightlight making the darkness easier to deal with. You’re safe here. So, so safe.

That’s what I want for you.

You’re missing something. Something to hold. Something to hug. You think you’re frowning.

No, no, it’s okay. We’re almost back. You’ll have that soon. This place is good. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you.

Promise? Yes, promise.

…What’s wrong with staying just a little while longer?

~~~

Something soft and heavy is weighing you down. Your head is cushioned on something soft yet supportive. You should get up, but you’re comfy. Why would you want to leave something so nice?

The thought, oddly enough, is what makes you open your eyes. You sit up reluctantly, yawning and stretching. A moose stuffie falls from your embrace. …That wasn’t there before. Reaching down, your hand feels the comforting doll. Silky. Soft. Woolly. You can feel beads under the fabric. In front of the bed, someone shifts in their seat, catching your attention.

Ushanka. Visor. Balaclava. No coat. No boots. No gloves. Socked feet, pale hands, legs crossed despite in a sofa chair. Someone is staring back at you. He feels familiar, but you don’t know him. You don’t remember how you got here. He’s fiddling with his fingers. Is he nervous? A deep, intake of breath, exhaled to a count of four.

“Good morning,” he greets, voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat. His balaclava muffles his voice a bit. “I-It was cold outside so I thought- I- …” This is going horribly wrong for him. “I’m Permafrost,” He blurts. Smooth. “It’s not my real name. They give us fun names to keep us secret. Like uh…camp counselors, I think.” You blink at him. “…What?” The question slips from your mouth.

He takes another deep breath. In four. Hold five. Out eight.

“I am Permafrost. I’m a ranger. It’s cold outside, and you were alone, so I brought you home because you wanted me to. You want me to keep you. You made me promise.” …Did you? That…sounded kind of right. The words feel familiar.

But why would you want him to keep you? Couldn’t he have just guided you…wait. How did you get to this place?

“This place is good?” Your murmur.

That’s not the question to be asked here-

“Yes,” he answers quickly. “It is good. It is safe.”

You feel young again. Single digits. Your father comforting you after a nightmare. A monster chasing you through the woods. But this man isn’t your father, and you’re old enough to look out for yourself.

But it’s hard.

It is hard. It’s been so hard, figuring things out on your own. Paycheck to paycheck. Taking multiple jobs. So many tasks. Wake up. Eat something. Get ready. Drive to work. Finish your shift and drive to your graveyard shift at your other workplace. Keep secrets so you don’t lose both jobs. Get home early in the morning. Sleep for a few hours. Wake up. You’re out of groceries. You’ll pick up something on the way.

You don’t need to do that anymore. All of this is right here for you. You don’t need to be alone anymore.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You need to go home.

Just let me keep you. Stay inside. It’s good here.

“…Okay.”

Permafrost perks up. “You’ll stay?”

“Is that okay?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s perfect.”

---

What’s up guys, it's been a while. Can you believe I still have no clue how dividers work?

Remember to drink water and eat something.

#..❄️fics #yandere #platonic yandere #oc #x reader #platonic x reader

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