Take a day trip into the mountains, they said. Become one with nature, they said. Well, nature was not on these teens' side right now. The four watched as the fuel gauge in their van was slowly but surely making its way to the empty marker. From the back of the van, their dog barked, pointing its snout past the dashboard. There was a house up ahead with the lights on. Perhaps someone home could phone the tow company. 

The van sputtered down the path right in front of the home. The moment they came to a stop, a figure came out onto the porch. The aged man wore patchwork coveralls over his creased plaid shirt. 

"You kids out of gas?" They all nodded at the obvious statement.  "I've got some gasoline in the back you're welcome to have. But before that, y'all wanna stop in for a drink or two?"

Old Man Otho held his glass of burgundy close to his chest. The teens, clade in their retro colors, sat with him in the front room of his humble house. Their dog had taken refuge behind the threadbare couch, his muted whines sounding now and then.

"I am so pleased you kids stumbled onto my doorstep. Always a pleasure to see new faces. You know, I once had a man knock on my door on a night just like this. With only the full moonlight as a guide, he wanted to camp out here, in the depths of the Red Eye Mountains. He was searching for the fabled Hidebehind that roams these woods. A horrid beast really, with the likeness of an emaciated bear and silvery as a ghost. It can shape its form to prowl behind whatever it pleases, the skinniest of branches, the thickest of tree stumps.  

"And on a night like the hunter's moon, he might have caught a glimpse of another creature, the Hidebehind's ancient enemy. The Mimic. The familiar voices that cry in the wind? The deer in the underbrush that stare before frolicking away? They just might be a Mimic on your scent. I'd argue those things are even worst than Hidebehinds. My mother used to tell me that you never live long after seeing a Mimic's true form.

"Now these woods stay empty for a reason. For the Hidebehind and Mimic wander in search of their sole craving, the bloody flesh of man. Fighting for what little prey there is, the Hidebehind and its brutish nature take pleasure in stalking victims and ripping them tendon by tendon."

Old Man Otho reached for the tall bottle sat on the table, topping off his glass. He held the bottle out to his four guests but they declined, staying still in their seats. Their faces looked quite flushed already. The kids' kept their eyes fixated on the man, his spotted and wrinkled fingers curling around the glass stem.

"It was still light out when he ventured into the forest, but these mountains are tricky. Twilight and shadow move fast out here. He had one of those cheap hand crank flashlights you could clip onto your shoulder so he could keep his eyes focused on the trail. It ran out rather quickly so he continued to hike while cranking the light, trying to power it again. But the poor boy took one wrong step and the tree branches spoke to him, coercing him deeper into the thicket. He didn't panic for he could see a glimpse of moonlight in the distance and followed his eyeline to it. As he grew closer he could see it was a clearing. Then he happened upon exactly what he set out for, right there in the center of the glade. 

"Standing bare and bathing in the witching hour's moonlight, was the Hidebehind. The boy went for his camera but out of nowhere, a doe crossed his path, disappearing into the foliage and rustling the leaves. The Hidebehind snapped its head around, two piercing red eyes staring right at him. He said it felt as if his soul had been pierced by the beast's gaze. Immediately, he ran as fast as his weary legs could take him. The moans of the Hidebehind cut the heavy silence of the forest. He couldn't tell whether the leaves rustling or the twigs snapping were from his movements or the Hidebehind's.

"Just as his legs threatened to give out, he reached another clearing and the Hidebehind was nowhere in sight. The boy pulled out his can of bug repellent and a lighter. See, Hidebehinds are gravely averse to ethanol. It drives them mad. So the man doused himself in the liquid before treading back into the woods. He worried he was going in circles. 

"He wandered and wandered, eventually finding his feet on the trail again. He followed it and luckily it brought him right here, to me. The boy was completely paranoid. His eyes were so puffed and red, I'd thought they'd fall out on their own. He kept his gaze glued to the trees and out the window even when I brought him inside and sat him down right where y'all are now. Unfortunately he didn't stick around for long. But I won't bore y'all with what happened to him after the fact. I've spoken enough. And it's not like the Hidebehind would ever be found in this neck of the woods." 

The four teens remained lolled in their seats, frozen. Streaks of scarlet dripped down from every pupil and stopped at the cheeks. Their dog's whimpers had finally hushed from behind the couches. 

"I really am glad you kids stopped by. You were right on time for supper."