His Only Sanity

The scent of old paper and rain-kissed earth clung to Fiona's clothes as she stepped into the new house, a two-story haven nestled at the edge of sprawling woods. It was late, the evening sky a bruised purple, and the only sounds were the rustle of leaves and her mother’s tired sigh.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, sweetie?” her mother murmured, wrapping an arm around Fiona’s shoulders. Fiona nodded, her gaze drawn to the dark, whispering trees.
Later, as she hauled the last box inside, a faint shuffling sound drew her towards the woods. Curiosity overriding caution, she ventured into the deepening gloom, phone flashlight cutting a trembling path. The forest, so inviting earlier, now felt… watchful. Then, a glint of wet crimson on the ground near a tree, a stark, unsettling stain that made her heart pound.
