This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Writerwithoutsoul on 2025-01-18 10:31:51+00:00.

My father never talked about the woods. Even though he was a forest ranger. Even though our house stood so close to them, we had to cut branches off the trees so they wouldn’t fall into our backyard.

Father rarely spoke to me at all. But him and my brother used to sit on our back porch for hours. Staring into the trees, speaking in hushed voices. They always got quiet when I came too close.

I didn’t know what to do. The neighbor-kids disliked me. And I didn’t want to go in and help mother, who sang along the radio as she scrubbed the house clean. I knew I would never be as perfect as her. So, I closed my eyes and listened to the forest instead. The rustling of the leaves sounded like a melody. The forest felt… timeless. Cheerful, even.

It was a painful contrast to the childish jealousy inside my chest. But I couldn’t help it. It simply wasn’t fair. I knew nothing about that beautiful place right outside our door, and yet, father told Leon all about it. Sometimes, I wished my brother was dead.

Over the years, those feelings became less and less painful. And then, one day, when I was a teenager and very close to getting over it, Leon disappeared. Now, I was definitely over it. Because I knew that father was useless. None of his teachings had saved my brother.

Mother kept yelling his name over and over. I just stood in his room, staring at the empty bed. The window was open. And the wind was so much louder than my mother’s shaky voice. The rustling sent shivers down my spine. It sounded cheerful. Happier than ever.

“Fairies.”

I whirled around.

My father looked right through me, as always. Still, he must have noticed I was looking at him, because he forced a smile on his face. “Fairies got your brother, sweetie. They live in the woods. And they are bad. Really bad. But don’t worry. I will get Leon back.”

“Uhm”, I said, “shouldn’t we, you know, talk to the police?”

Or a psychiatrist.

Father shook his head. “Already called them. But believe me. They will give up. They always do. Loads of people go missing in those woods. But loads of people aren’t your brother”, he cocked his gun, “they’ve gone too far now.”

I never got around to calling that psychiatrist. Maybe it was because there was something in my father’s eyes, something about the melodic way the wind rustled through the leaves. Maybe it was because he was right about the police. After they gave up, Dad spent every day combing through that forest. I waited by the back porch as he returned alone. He looked grim, but optimistic. Driven. On day three, he even hummed a little song.

But father never found the fairies. The fairies found us. A month after Leon disappeared, there was a note at our door.

“Exchange. 30 000 Euros. Only send the mother.”

They had glued dried flowers on the paper. The handwriting was perfect. Like it came out of a printer. I wished I could write like that.

“What do they want with money?”, I asked, “they live in the forest, don’t they?”

My Mom shrugged. She was trembling, but her lips were pressed together in determination. “Does it matter? I’ll go.”

She went into the forest that morning, our entire savings stuck in a basket, her head held high as the sun rose behind the trees. The day passed as father and I stared at the unmoving entrance. Finally, just as the sun was about to set, two people emerged from the woods.

Mom smiled whole-heartedly. Leon was trailing behind her, looking around like he saw everything for the very first time. He looked everywhere except into my eyes.

Father gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, which was about the maximum of affection he was capable of showing. Leon barely reacted.

And when I hugged him, he felt… stiff. Like he was just learning how to do it.

I frowned. You know, Leon and I weren’t exactly close, but the one good thing about him were those amazing bear hugs he sometimes gave when he realized I was sad. The best hugs in the world.

I let go of him. “I’m glad to have you home."

Leon smiled back at me, but something about it was… wrong.

“Me too.”

Dinner was alright. Mom and Dad chatted like everything was normal. Father complained about his back, and how he disliked mother’s cooking, and mother gossiped about our next-door neighbor Mary-Beth, who was really excited for Leon to be back, but significantly less excited about her husband cheating on her with the local hairdresser. The biggest mystery was where Mr. Jones had even met that hairdresser. He was as bald as an egg. I never found out the answer because I couldn’t listen properly. I kept staring at Leon, who picked on his food like he was just learning how to eat.

When he felt my gaze on him, he looked at me. I shuddered and crossed my arms so no one could see how the little hairs had stood up.

Leon was not blinking enough. But that wasn’t what suddenly made this room so cold. It was the look in his eyes. It was just… empty. And when I looked back, he gave a crooked, mischievous little smile. Like there was some secret only him and I knew about.

Dad never taught me how to hunt, but I have spent my whole life observing my family from the outside. So naturally, I notice a lot. That evening, I wished I didn’t.

After Leon spent like ten minutes playing with his food, he suddenly gulped down on it like he was planning to drive my parents into bankruptcy.

When my father told a joke as I was clearing the table, Leon just looked at him dumbfounded. My brother used to burst into laughter at every little thing.

And the weirdest thing was: Leon seemed to observe now, too. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he stared at my parents. At me. At the house. Silent. Waiting.

But this was normal, I told myself. Perfectly normal. Leon had just come back from the goddamn forest, after all. He needed some time to adjust.

Still, in the evening, I found myself sitting on the porch again. Even though there was no one to wait for anymore. My parents were still in the kitchen, celebrating. I looked at the light illuminating the house and hated myself. I should have been happy. I was. Of course I was glad to have my brother back. I sighted and stared into the darkness.

That’s when I saw the shadow.

I pressed a hand on my mouth to suppress my gasp. Leon didn’t notice.

He just stood there, motionless. For a moment, his dark silhouette seemed eerie in the night.

Then, he walked down the steps and disappeared into the forest. He didn’t make a single sound.

I only let out my breath when I knew he was gone.

Then, I went upstairs and got my computer.

And the gun.

Over the next few days, Leon’s behavior got stranger and stranger as I franatically looked up everything there is to know about fairies. The gun became my emotional support weapon. I slept with it under my pillow.

Well, sleep is relative, of course. Most of the time, I stared at the door. Like he would burst in and kidnap me any moment, swipe me from my bed and take me into the woods. And then, something else would return to my parents.

I considered going to my father about it, but I knew he wouldn’t believe me. He never did.

I had to help myself.

I was sitting on the front porch when I made my final decision. Waiting for the dinner my mother was preparing in the kitchen. I could hear her rummaging around. I didn’t offer to help her. I could never be the daughter she wanted. But still, I loved her. I had to protect her.

My brother was standing next to me. I hadn’t heard him coming. I never did. He was staring into the night again.

“Leon?”, I asked.

He didn’t answer.

I cocked my gun and aimed it at the back of his head. “Leon, I know what you are.”

My brother didn’t turn around. His voice was barely audible above the sound of the wind. “And what would that be?”

“Come on”, my voice trembled. My hands did as well. I grabbed the gun tighter. “Leon, I’m pointing my damn shotgun at you, so… so be something, godammit! Fearful, angry, I don’t know, just… human.”

I was crying now. It made my aim worse.

“Human?”, Leon asked, “I’m human.”

“Yeah, sure”, I exclaimed, “then why are you acting so weird?”

He whirled around. “Because I’m traumatized? Lina, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I was kidnapped by a bunch of fairies.”

His eyes were empty. Staring. “And no, fortunately, they did not replace me with a changeling. But they had me for a month, and now, I’m terrified of everything. Even the forest."

“Yeah sure”, I chuckled. It wasn’t a happy sound. “You. Scared. Of the forest. So why do you make nightly tours, huh?”

He frowned. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Is what obvious?”

He looked at me. There was this look in his eyes again. Knowingly. Like we shared a secret my parents could never understand. I looked back. He frowned. I frowned back. “What?”

“Oh. God”, he made a step forward, “oh God. Damn. You don’t know. Dad hasn’t… shit. Sorry. I thought it was really obvious. Has Dad never told you about fairies? What they do to people?”

“Dad never told me anything", I said, "He thought I couldn’t handle it.”

“No one can handle it”, he shuddered, “but I can’t say it out loud. They will hear.”

I put the gun down. “They?”

The sounds from the kitchen stopped.

“Shit”, he came towards me, “basically, fairies mimic humans. They are good at it. You know the whispers about changeling children? They are a lie.”

“Darlings”, my mother called from inside of the house, “dinner is ready. I can hear you whispering. Come on and sit down.”

“The truth is, …

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