Writer’s Prompt: The Shortcut: Terry Logan’s Nightmare in the Elm Street Woods

Shadow Stalker: What Happened to Terry When She Ignored the Warning

The Shortcut

“Don’t take the shortcut, Terry,” Marcia pleaded, her voice a fragile reed against the noise of the departing commuter crowd.

Terry waved a hand, dismissing the fear. “It’s fifteen minutes faster, Marcia. I have dinner plans.” She adjusted the straps of her backpack, the heavy dress shoes inside clattering faintly, and stepped off the paved sidewalk onto the packed earth of the Elm Street cut-through.

The canopy closed overhead, plunging the path into an artificial twilight. It was silent here, a heavy, listening silence that the city’s distant hum couldn’t penetrate. Twenty yards in, a prickle of unease—like a cold finger—traced down her spine. The air felt thick, charged with waiting.

Her brisk walk became a tentative jog. She rounded the sharp bend where the old elm stood like a sentinel. “Almost there, Terry. Don’t be a baby,” she whispered, forcing a smile that felt tight and alien on her face.

Then, from the absolute blackness between two oak trunks, he stepped out. He didn’t just stand there; he loomed, blocking the exit completely.

Terry skidded on a patch of loose gravel, a primal cry lodging in her throat. She spun on her heel, her sleek, athletic build now a liability as she scrambled, not jogged, back towards the street.

She heard him move. It wasn’t a chase; it was a steady, heavy stalk. Panic overtook her; she veered off the path, crashing through the tangled undergrowth, desperate for a place to disappear.

She pressed herself behind the massive trunk of a lone elm, forcing her breath into shallow, silent sips of air. Please pass. Please don’t see me.

The heavy boots stopped ten feet away.

She heard him curse, the sound wet and furious. Then came the soft click of sunglasses being closed and the rustle of a cap being pulled off. Terry dared a glance through a split in the bark.

Her blood turned to ice. It wasn’t a stranger. It was her boss.

She held no physical proof he intended to harm her. But as she watched his frustrated face, a catalog of predatory smiles and lingering glances at the office flashed through her mind. She wasn’t the first woman he’d followed.

In the dark silence, terrified but fueled by a sudden, icy resolve, Terry knew she had two choices right now.

How does Terry’s night end? Does she confront him, slip away to expose him later, or is this the moment her boss finally catches his prey? Write Terry’s next move below!