TALES BY FIRELIGHT - TODAY WE HAVE A SHORT STORY, WRITTEN BY OUR AMAZING TEAM MEMBER, LORRAINE CAREY - 'A NIGHT OF SECRETS AND SHADOWS'

A Night of Secrets and Shadows

Crystal, Shawna, Faith, and Melynda had been counting down the days. Their long-awaited ‘girls’ getaway’ was finally upon them. It had been months of planning, and with Spring Break in full swing at Desert Ridge Elementary, all four teachers were desperate for a break. The stress of their rowdy fourth graders had worn them thin, but for Crystal, the weight of the year was much heavier—just a few months ago, her grandmother had passed away, and the grief still lingered. However, the call of nature beckoned her—one in which she always felt comfort. She sat on the first step of her front porch with her overnight bag, waiting for her friends, as she thought about how this upcoming getaway would be a great way to lessen her grieving. What could be better than a weekend camping trip?

Crystal shared an unbreakable bond with her grandmother, spending countless hours at her side, absorbing the rich tapestry of Navajo legends and spiritual lore. Though every story held a certain magic, it was the tale of Skinwalkers, seers, and the unseen realms that captivated her most. Her grandmother, a revered seer within the tribe, often took Crystal to ceremonies, each one a thread woven into the fabric of her life. But there was one ceremony that echoed itself into her soul—the Kinaalda, the sacred rite of passage marking a girl’s journey into womanhood.

During that ceremony, something within Crystal stirred—a strange, almost electric sensation wrapped around her like a whisper from another world. Afterward, her grandmother and a circle of women gathered around her, their eyes solemn yet gentle. They spoke of her gift—an awakening of the senses, an intuition sharp enough to cut through the veil of the ordinary. From that day forward, Crystal’s dreams became more than fleeting images; they felt like echoes of what was to come, subtle warnings or quiet prophecies.

That gift was both a blessing and a burden. It allowed her to sense the silent struggles of her students, guiding her to offer help before they spoke a word. But it also meant feeling too much —the hidden pain, the unspoken fears.

Her connection to the natural world was just as intense. Stray dogs and cats seemed to find her as if drawn by an invisible thread, often appearing near the school grounds and inevitably following her home. The wilderness and the animals were all part of the same spiritual current she had learned to navigate since that fateful day of her Kinaalda ceremony.

And now, as she stood awaiting the arrival of her coworkers, that connection buzzed beneath her skin, a silent reminder that the world held more secrets than most could ever see.

Shawna had taken charge of the arrangements and booked a stay at the Albuquerque KOA Journey Campground. It wasn’t far—just a half-hour drive from their homes in Rio Rancho—but in the Land of Enchantment, even short trips felt like a mysterious adventure awaiting. Shawna had planned for them to stay in two separate cabins, one for herself with Crystal and Faith, and Melynda in another. Together, they piled into Shawna’s SUV, music blasting, singing along to the latest pop hits.

As they hit Route 66, the landscape stretched out before them—endless desert, rugged mountains, and the promise of adventure. Soon enough, they pulled up to the campground, the rustic cabins nestled beneath the looming Sandia Mountains, their jagged peaks bathed in the fading light of the setting sun. The girls could already feel the magic of the place, the world quieting around them as the vibrant pinks and purples of the mountains intensified with dusk.

After a hearty New Mexico meal of green chile tamales and Pozole served family style in the guest kitchen, everyone was eager to stretch their legs. They made their way toward the farthest fire pit, nestled on a quiet rise that offered an even better view of the mountain range. Thermoses filled with hot coffee and tea in hand, Crystal reminded them to grab jackets as the desert air would soon turn cold. At forty and being the oldest on the team, she often played the role of the motherly figure, the one with a steady presence and a knack for sensing what others needed—some even said she had a ‘sixth sense.’ Her friends didn’t ask questions; they simply trusted her. And Crystal had never divulged to them that she indeed had a ‘sixth sense’ and a few more special gifts, ones she would always keep secret.

As they approached the fire pit, they saw the groundskeeper, a tall, silent figure, tending to the flames. Four large Adirondack chairs were arranged around the crackling fire, waiting for them. The girls settled in, the warmth of the fire offering a sharp contrast to the encroaching chill of the night.

Shawna, ever the instigator, suggested, “Tell us a story, Crystal. You’re half Navajo, you must have some legends tucked away.”

The others eagerly agreed, their voices rising in unison, “Yes, tell us!”

Crystal hesitated, a wry smile curling on her lips. “I don’t want to scare anyone off,” she teased, taking a long sip of her coffee.

Faith, always the skeptic, chuckled. “No way you’re scaring me off after last week’s chaos in my classroom. I almost put in for a leave, fearing I was on the verge of a breakdown. ”

Crystal’s gaze drifted to the fire, the flames dancing hypnotically as sparks swirled into the night air like ghostly whispers. She could feel the warmth from the flames coursing through her body, but knew she had to come out of this one quickly or face the consequences of revealing her true self. This was not the place, nor the time—if there ever was. It was the fire that always seemed to ignite what she fought so hard to control.

The coyotes’ distant howls broke the silence, sending a shiver down Melynda’s spine. She jumped in her seat.

“Maybe they want to join us,” Faith joked.

“Nah,” Crystal’s voice was calm, but there was a strange edge to it. “They’re harmless and such beautiful creatures.”

The others fell silent, waiting for Crystal to speak.

After a long pause, she began: “The Navajo speak of Skinwalkers—shape-shifters who can take the form of any animal. But they’re much more than that. They can steal your soul; make you do things... unspeakable things. They can even take the voice of your loved ones to lure you into the darkness.”

Melynda leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “Have you ever encountered one of these things?”

Crystal’s eyes glinted in the firelight. “Not me, but my grandfather did.”

The night seemed to grow colder as Crystal spoke, her words sinking deeper into the air around them.

“They can hear your thoughts,” she continued, her voice low, almost a whisper, “and they can use the voice of someone you trust to draw you in. They’re never as far as you think.”

And with hearing those words, Shawna pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. “Do you think one’s out here? In the mountains?” her finger pointing toward the mountain.

Crystal met Shawna’s gaze, her face unreadable. “What do you think? You live in New Mexico. You know we are known for many legends here, even those of ancient alien encounters.”

“Why would they come here?” Shawna asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Some places are... easier to reach," Crystal replied, her gaze turning toward the full moon, glowing unnaturally bright above them. “And there are places that have secret portals where they can transition to. They need darkness to thrive.”

The girls sat in tense silence until Shawna broke it with a question. “Exactly how do you kill one of these creatures?”

Shawna’s question had stirred something in Crystal. Her eyes flickered with a dark understanding. “A bullet dipped in white ash. But even then... it’s never certain. Each Skinwalker is said to have their unique power.”

The fire crackled, the air thick with unease. Faith nervously whistled, attempting to break the tension, but Crystal’s voice rang out sharply. “Stop! Don’t do that! It taunts the spirits, making them even angrier, and who knows what they could do to us, that’s if there are any out there.”

Hearing those words, the group fell silent, the weight of Crystal’s knowledge of these creatures settled over them like a heavy fog. After a long moment, Crystal stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the stone. She picked up her thermos, her face pale.

“I’m not feeling well,” she murmured, her voice tight. “I think I ate too much at dinner. I’m going back to the cabin to lie down for a bit.”

The girls exchanged uncertain glances as Crystal left, her footsteps fading into the night.

Shawna, Faith, and Melynda stayed behind, the firelight flickering in the growing darkness as they each shared a story—nothing as chilling as Crystal’s. The coyotes had quieted, and the air was thick with an uneasy calm.

But when Shawna went to check on Crystal, she found the cabin empty. The bed was perfectly made, and the bathroom unoccupied. Panic gripped her as she rushed back to the firepit, shouting to the others. “Crystal’s gone!”

They turned to see Melynda staring up into the night sky, her face pale. “There’s something up there... a huge crow, circling!”

“Forget the crow!” Shawna shouted. “We need to find Crystal!”

The girls all ducked down, covering their heads with their hands as the crow swooped low, almost touching the flames, before it shot back into the night sky, disappearing beyond the ridge of the Sandia Mountains.

The girls exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Crystal’s disappearance settling over them like a shadow. Melynda’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Maybe... maybe she really did need to get away.”

“And so, you think she just turned into a crow and flew away? You think maybe she’s one of those Skinwalkers?” Faith snapped back. “That’s just crazy talk!”

Shawna turned to look back in the direction of the crow. “Well, anything’s possible out here. And come to think of it, she did have a lot of knowledge of this Skinwalker legend. Fact is, Crystal’s gone, and we still need to do something!”

Faith and Melynda stood frozen, their breaths visible in the cold desert air as the fire crackled, casting shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own. Shawna clutched her jacket, her knuckles white. “We can’t just stand here. We have to look for her. What if she’s hurt? What if that old groundskeeper took her? You know how men are attracted to her exotic looks.”

Faith nodded, though her eyes betrayed her fear. “I’ll go back to the main lodge and see where he went, then when I come back, we’ll check all the trails,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “She couldn’t have gone far.”

Melynda hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ridge where the crow had vanished. “What if...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “No, never mind, that’s just too weird.”

Faith had returned looking grim as she informed the girls that the man at the check-in desk said the groundskeeper had signed off and retreated to his cabin for the night. “ I even went and banged on his door, and he answered, claiming he hadn’t seen her, but if need be, he’d help search in the morning or get a search party organized. I don’t think he had anything to do with Crystal’s disappearance.”

Shawna grabbed a flashlight from her pack and handed another to Faith. “Split up. We’ll cover more ground.”

Melynda interjected, her voice firm. “No way. We stay together. Crystal warned us about the darkness, remember? And besides all those creepy legends, we need to keep in mind. Also, we need to remember that there are mountain lions out here! Let’s stick to the main path and call for her. And Faith, no whistling,

please!”

The three women began their search, their flashlights casting narrow beams that sliced through the enveloping darkness. The wind whistled through the trees, carrying with it faint, eerie sounds—snatches of whispers, a rustle of movement. A few jackrabbits scurried from beyond the path. They called Crystal’s name, their voices echoing into the night, but no reply came.

As they reached a clearing, Faith stopped suddenly. “Do you hear that?” she whispered.

The others froze, straining their ears. Faintly, from the direction of the mountains, came a sound: a voice. Crystal’s voice.

“Help me!” the voice called, faint but unmistakable. “Over here!”

Shawna’s heart leaped, and she moved toward the sound, but Melynda grabbed her arm. “Wait! Crystal said they could use voices. What if it’s not her? Remember what she told us about how Skinwalkers can mimic familiar voices?”

Shawna hesitated, torn between logic and instinct. “But what if it is her?” Her flashlight beam wavered; her grip unsteady. “What if she’s hurt? We can’t just leave her out there!”

Faith nodded, but her voice quivered. “Melynda’s right. Crystal wouldn’t have warned us for no reason. Let’s think this through before we make any rash decisions.”

The voice called out again, more desperate this time: “Help me! Please!”

Melynda tightened her grip on Shawna’s arm. “We need to be smart. This may be a trick. My gut instincts are telling me we all may be in danger out here. She might still be in the campground. Let’s head back and check the cabins again before chasing shadows.”

Reluctantly, Shawna agreed, and the three women retraced their steps, their flashlights guiding them back to the firepit. The glow of the flames still danced in the distance, a comforting beacon in the oppressive darkness.

As they approached, they heard movement—soft, deliberate footsteps. Faith swung her flashlight toward the sound, and the beam illuminated Crystal, standing at the edge of the firelight. Her face was pale, her expression unreadable.

“Crystal!” Shawna cried, rushing toward her. But Melynda stepped in her path, holding her back.

“Wait,” Melynda said, her voice low. “Something’s not right! I can feel it.”

Crystal tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting in the firelight. They appeared to be black as coal. “What’s wrong? It’s just me,” she said, her tone calm but strangely hollow.

Faith shivered, her flashlight trembling in her hand. “Where did you go? We checked the cabin, and you weren’t there.”

“I needed some air,” Crystal replied smoothly. “I told you I wasn’t feeling well.”

Melynda narrowed her eyes, her instincts screaming that something was off. “If it’s really you, then tell us—what did you say about the coyotes earlier?”

Crystal’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I said they might want to join us.”

Melynda’s heart sank. “No! You said, “ They’re harmless.”

For a split second, Crystal’s expression faltered, her features twisting into something darker. Then, without warning, she turned and bolted toward the trees.

“Stop!” Shawna shouted, but Crystal—or whatever she was—was already gone, disappearing into the night.

The three women stood frozen, the weight of what they’d just witnessed sinking in.

“What do we do now?” Faith whispered, her voice barely audible. “I feel like we’re caught in some strange episode of the Twilight Zone.”

Melynda glanced at the fire pit, then back in the direction Crystal had fled. “We stick together, just like we said. Let’s get back to the cabins and wait until daylight. We’ll be safer in there. If Crystal’s out there, we’ll find her in the morning.”

Shawna hesitated but eventually nodded. “Okay. But we can’t leave her out there alone for too long. If something happens to her, we’ll all be responsible. And remember that huge crow is out there somewhere!”

As they made their way back to the cabins, the oppressive darkness seemed to press closer, and the whispers of the wind grew louder, almost mocking. Inside, they locked the doors and windows, huddling together in one cabin for safety, but found it hard to sleep as they all questioned what had just happened at the campfire, each one having their own theory. Nothing seemed normal about the night.

The night passed slowly, every creak and rustle outside sent chills down their spines as they tossed and turned all night. They’d hoped Crystal would appear any moment, but most were losing hope with all the strangeness that had occurred.

At dawn, the first rays of sunlight broke over the Sandia Mountains, bathing the campground in a golden glow. The new day would hopefully reveal the whereabouts of their dear friend.

The women stepped outside, the bright light dispelling the shadows of the night. They began their search once again, calling Crystal’s name as they scoured the campground and then off to the surrounding trails.

Shawna had gone to check with the man at the front desk, and the middle-aged man claimed he hadn’t seen any sign of her. He didn’t seem alarmed in the least, claiming that most guests enjoy taking early morning walks in the area. She shook her head and then asked about the groundskeeper, and she was told he was repairing one of the older cabins this morning. She didn’t feel like dealing with him, so she hurried back to join her friends, anxious to begin another search.

Finally, near a rocky outcrop at the base of the mountains, they found her. Crystal was sitting on a large boulder, her face tilted toward the rising sun. She looked tired but unharmed.

“Crystal!” Shawna cried, rushing to her. “We’ve all been so worried. What is wrong with you? We thought —"

Crystal turned to them, her expression soft yet familiar. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I’m sorry I worried all of you. I needed to be alone. I... I felt something pulling me, and I didn’t know how to explain it.”

Melynda studied her closely, searching for any sign of the eerie presence from the night before. But this was the Crystal she knew—their friend.

COMING SOON: On Wednesday, 11th June, our latest guest author is Carol Kerry-Green who is sharing Chapter 3 of her novel 'Flight of The Falcon'.