The man’s screams violently perforated the still calmness of the fog laden moors. The sound, carried on the cool breeze, shocked Carla out of the meditated state she always entered when hiking alone.

Turning, she tried to locate the owner of that guttural cry, but all she could find was the fog laden bracken and rock. She moved towards the source of the noise. With every step, the cry grew more desperate. She determined the sound was coming from just over the ridge. Stepping off the path, she waded her way through bracken and deep mud to reach the man as fast as she could.

Moving upwards, her breath steaming in front of her, Carla quickly tried to recall her first aid training. How do I apply a tourniquet? What are the signs of hypothermia? These thoughts darted through her mind as she neared the top of the hill.

The man’s cries crescendoed as she breasted the ridge, followed by silence.

A stillness blanketed the moorland. There was no sign of the man. There was no sign of anyone.

She was about to cry out when the scream sounded again, this time faint, way off in the distance along the ridge. It sounded different somehow, it sounded like that of a woman.

She quickly set off towards the source, this time breaking into a gentle jog. I need to reserve some energy otherwise we’re both in trouble, Carla reasoned. With the relatively flat and firm terrain she quickly gained upon the person.

Their cry once again got louder and louder as she got closer.

Once again, silence.

Carla caught her breath and sipped some water from the bottle in her rucksack. She was far from the path, she realised. Her heart rapidly beating in her chest as the fog loomed around her and the anxiety enveloped her. The moist air cooled the sweat on her back making her shiver.

‘Would you help a stranger?’ a deep, husky voice whispered.

Carla whipped around, facing the way she came.

She could just make out the silhouette of a hunched figure, draped by the mist. She nervously said, ‘I heard screaming, was that you? Are you alright?’

The sobs of a child could be heard from behind her.

‘They tried to help. Kind souls. Good souls. Matters not, damned just the same.’

The stranger began to slowly shuffle towards Carla. She was frozen to the spot by fear, her legs rooted to the ancient ground. The cries of multiple people could be heard now – a babel of voices young and old. Each desolate voice bombarded Carla’s ears with a growing fury as the stranger moved closer. Carla closed her eyes, covered her ears and crouched – praying it was just a dream, praying for the voices to stop.

Please stop! Please stop! Please stop!

Silence.

Slowly she opened her eyes to nothing but mist and wind.

‘Would you help a stranger?’ he whispered in her ear.

Carla’s screams echoed through the moors.