-Hello lovely people of the WHI community!
I saw this brand new contest from #thewhisquad and I thought why not participate. Strap in people, cuz this one is going to be twisted, disturbing and as negative as a photographic film. If you're easily triggered, I advise against reading this one. I hope you look past all that and understand the moral of this short thriller.

The article
The account

Warning: This story might be slightly triggering! Read at your own risk!

His film: A short thriller story

The tracks were covered in virgin snow; pure and untainted by footstep-shaped dents. It hadn't been too long ago when the storm had laid another even layer of ice atop the mountain as the howling wind joined the symphony of chaos. Nothing had disturbed the natural panorama that the raging storm had left behind, nothing but his footsteps as he made his way down from his cabin to the tracks most of the runners used, located at the base of the mountain.

snow, winter, and christmas image

The cold December air sent a piercing sensation up his nose as he inhaled, partially hiding behind a tree, laying low and waiting. Right now, he was not a passing guy clutching a camera and exploring the woods, no, not while the hunger consumed him, blinding his senses and overwhelming him. He would feel guilty later, when he could register the consequences of his actions and he would apologize, for sure, but for now, he was the predator waiting for his next pray, his most prized possession, and simultaneously, weapon within the grasps of his cold fingers.

camera, photography, and aesthetic image

The wind danced around the thick branches of the trees, pirouetting out onto the tracks silently, carrying with it the chill of the winter. The cold was bitting at every bit of his exposed flesh, but he paid it no heed, the cold on the outside not even comparing with the one burning his heart and freezing his insides. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been normal. As a matter of fact, he couldn't even remember how he'd wound up here, in a desolate place, without a grip on his humanity and with laminated pieces of paper as his only companions. They were his friends. Not the papers, of course, but the beautiful faces forever trapped in the laminated pages hanging in his darkroom. And yet, he loved each and every one of them. The memories of snapping those pictures. The cabin in which he'd built his lair. It was the only home his mind had known.

quotes, place, and stay image

The shuffling of feet against the thick blanket of snow caught his attention. His spine straightened as he slid a few inches more behind the tree. The predator was alert, his sharp eyes focusing as he sought out the figure of the runner. The snow sunk under the weight of the approaching figure, tainted and vulnerable. Walked over. Rosy cheeks and golden locks flying messily out of the ponytail, a runner appeared. The eyes fastened over the obvious prey, devouring every inch of her lean figure. The silence was every so often interrupted by the heavy pants of the woman as she kept on pushing forward, a determined glint shining in her eyes.

girl, forest, and vintage image

Beautiful, he thought as a countdown started in his head, almost unconsciously. All of this was familiar. Something inside him building up as he prepared to strike, catch his prey and get back to his home victorious, adding another photograph in his endless collection.


He fiddled with his camera as the runner rounded the tracks, turning back from where she came from.


The puffs of air blowing out from her mouth had him mesmerized for a second as the woman stopped on her tracks and looked around. He could almost hear the heavy beating of her heart as she surveyed her surroundings with narrowed eyes.


She took out her phone, tapping on her touchscreen rapidly, no doubt forming the 911 number on her phone. Her legs started moving again, but this time, she wasn't jogging, she was running away.


A deranged smile lit up his features as the predator watched his pray initiate a chase. He loved it when they tried to run away. Only problem; while the woman thought she was leaving him behind, she was actually running towards him.


He stepped out from his hiding place, the smile crazier than ever. The woman stopped, paling at the sight of him. The realization that she was alone, in the woods, with no one around to help her sunk in as the predator leaped and striked. The flash of the camera was the only thing left behind as he lowered the camera from his eye, staring at the tiny screen to see the terrified expression etched forever on the woman's face, as she too, would be imprisoned in a laminated page, mind and body now a mere belonging of the crazy man.

What did you guys think? I don't feel entirely comfortable sharing this one, especially here on WHI, which is meant to be a positive space full of inspiration, but please, please, if you're going through something hard and feel very alone, don't. There are people willing to listen and help you through whatever it is that's holding you down. Seek help and seek friends.

To do a 360°, if you are or were a victim of abuse and/or rape, speak up. Do not let them get away. It might be extremely hard, but you are not alone and you will never be. Be inspired by those who've spoken up about their own experience and be the one to inspire other people to talk about theirs. Even if I don't know you or what you've been through, know that you've got one person supporting you. And if you need to talk to someone, know that you can talk to me. You are strong and you will survive this. I believe in you.

Missed my last article? I'm posting every Sunday.

As always, thank you for reading and supporting my writing. It means the world to me!
Find my other articles here.
Feel free to message me if you need a friend or if you want to collab.
See you this Sunday!
―XOXO, Saskia