He left them empty-handed, so they dug a hole under a fallen tree and made it their home.
One gray morning, he left them empty-handed, without long goodbyes or explanations that could speak for themselves. Just a light backpack each, a couple of crumpled bills, and a gaze that avoided theirs.
“It’s for the best,” their father said, as if repeating it could make it true.
Lucía didn’t answer. At sixteen, she had learned that some phrases didn’t seek comfort, but silence. Tomás, her younger brother, barely thirteen, didn’t say anything either. He simply clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
When the door closed behind them, the world became too big.
And they were too small.
They walked aimlessly for hours. The city faded into the distance, replaced by dirt roads, scattered trees, and an open sky that seemed to watch them with indifference.
“Where are we going?” Tomás finally asked.
Lucía looked around. She had no answer.
"Where can we stay?"
That was all.
The sun was beginning to set when they reached a small forest. It wasn't dense, but it was enough to isolate them from the world. The air smelled of damp earth and dry leaves.
Tomás slumped down next to a fallen log.
"I'm tired."
Lucía sat beside him. The silence between them was no longer awkward. It was necessary.
"We'll spend the night here," she said.
Tomás nodded without arguing.
But that night, the cold taught them something important: it wasn't enough to just survive the day. They had to think about the next.
The following morning, Lucía made a decision.
"We can't keep moving. We need a place."
Tomás looked at the forest.
"Here?"
Lucía followed his gaze. That's when she saw it.
An enormous tree, long since fallen. Its upturned roots formed a kind of natural wall. The thick, solid trunk created a barrier against the wind.
"Over there."
Tomás frowned.
"That?"
"Down below."
He looked at her, confused.
"Do you want to... dig?"
Lucía nodded.
"Yes."
Tomás let out a disbelieving chuckle.
—A hole?
—A refuge.
There was a moment of doubt.
Then, without further delay, they began.
At first it was clumsy. They used branches, stones, their hands. The earth was hard, but little by little it gave way. Each improvised shovelful was an act of defiance against their situation.
Hours passed.
Then days.
The hole began to take shape.
First, it was enough to sit down.
Then, off to bed.
Then, to be able to move around with some ease.
They covered the entrance with branches and leaves, leaving a small space to enter and exit.
“It looks… real,” Thomas said one night, gazing at his creation.
Lucia smiled slightly.
-Is.
It wasn't a house. It had no brick walls or tiled roof. But it was his.
And that changed everything.
The first few days were difficult.
Hunger was constant. The cold, persistent. Fear, silent but always present.
But little by little, they learned.
Lucía found edible berries. Tomás learned to catch small animals with improvised traps. They collected rainwater and stored it in bottles they found along the way.
The hole was transformed.
They added a layer of mud as insulation.
They created a rudimentary ventilation system.
They even managed to set up a small space for a controlled campfire.
“We’re like moles,” Tomás joked.
—Very clever moles —Lucía replied.
Time passed.
The days turned into weeks.
And weeks that turned into months.
The forest ceased to be unknown. It became their world.
They learned its sounds, its rhythms, its secrets.
But it wasn't all peaceful.
There were nights when the wind howled too loudly.
Or where strange noises broke the calm.
One night, a particularly cold night, Tomás woke up suddenly.
—Did you hear that?
Lucia opened her eyes.
Silence.
-Nothing.
—No, seriously… there’s someone there.
Both remained motionless.
Then they heard him.
Steps.
Boards.
Heavy.
Someone… or something… was walking nearby.
Tomás grabbed a sharp branch which he used as a spear.
Lucia held her breath.
The footsteps were getting closer.
Then they stopped.
Right above them.
Lucia's heart was beating so hard that she was afraid it could be heard from outside.
A shadow covered the entrance.
Someone gently moved the branches aside.
An eye appeared.
Observing.
Lucía and Tomás remained motionless.
The eye blinked.
Then he disappeared.
The footsteps slowly faded away.
They didn't speak for several minutes.
"They found us..." whispered Tomás.
Lucia denied it.
-No.
-But-
—If they had found us, they wouldn't have left.
That didn't reassure either of them.
They didn't sleep that night.
The next day, they reinforced everything.
More branches.
More land.
Be more careful.
—We have to be invisible —Lucía said.
Thomas nodded.
But something had changed.
The forest no longer seemed completely safe to me.
Several days passed without incident.
Until they found something.
Tomás was checking one of his traps when he saw something strange on the ground.
—Lucía, come here.
She approached.
There were footprints on the ground.
Humanities.
But it's not normal.
They were deeper than they should have been.
As if the one who left them… weighed too heavily.
"I don't like this," Thomas said.
Lucia watched in silence.
The footprints surrounded the area.
As if someone had been watching.
“We have to prepare,” he finally said.
-So that?
Lucia looked at him.
—For whatever is out there.
That night, the forest was too quiet.
No wind.
No pets allowed.
Lifeless.
Lucia couldn't sleep.
Something wasn't right.
And then…
A sound.
From the inside.
From the shelter.
They both froze.
"Did you hear that?" Thomas whispered.
Lucia nodded slowly.
The sound was coming from one of the walls.
A small… scratch.
As if something were… digging.
From the other side.
Tomás's heart began to beat uncontrollably.
—Lucía…
The scratch turned into a bruise.
Then in another one.
The earth shook slightly.
—No… —Lucía murmured.
Something was trying to get in.
From below.
Not from the forest.
From the land itself.
The hole, their refuge, their home…
It wasn't as safe as they thought.
The ground cracked.
A hand appeared.
Vegetation cover.
But it wasn't normal.
Too long.
Too thin.
Thomas screamed.
Lucia grabbed him.
—We're leaving now!
But the exit was blocked.
The branches move.
There was something up there too.
They were trapped.
The hand moved.
Then another one.
And one more.
What emerged was not human.
But they are not completely unaware of the situation either.
And at that moment, Lucia understood something terrible:
They had not built a shelter.
They had dug…
The entrance.
Something I'd been waiting for a long time.
And now…
I had found them.
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