Kirill was long accustomed to night drives. He loved the silence of empty roads, the lulling rhythm of tires, and time alone with his thoughts. During such hours, even the most chaotic thoughts came into order, as if the road helped line them up. But that night, something was off.
The forest he drove through seemed unwelcoming, even grim. Tall pines rose as black silhouettes, obscuring the rare stars. The air seemed denser, and the night highway stretched like an endless ribbon. His phone showed almost midnight. The car steadily rustled along the asphalt, its headlights catching road signs and the rare reflections from the eyes of wild animals.
Kirill felt a strange tension, though he couldn’t explain where it came from.
Suddenly, far ahead, he noticed a faint blinking light. Emergency lights. He squinted, trying to see what was happening, but the lights flickered on and off around a bend in the road.
Kirill slowed down. «Probably someone got into an accident,» he thought. The forest highway was deserted, and the likelihood of help already being there was slim.
As he approached, he noticed a wrecked car. Its front bumper looked as if it had been hit at full speed. Dust and dirt covered the license plates, and the side door was slightly ajar.
Kirill stopped the car a few meters from the wreck, turned off the engine, and got out. The cold night air immediately hit his face, making him shiver.
«Hey! Is anyone there?» he called toward the car.
There was no answer. Only the night wind passed through the forest, stirring the treetops.
Kirill approached, careful not to step on the shards of glass that sparkled in the light of the headlights. He looked inside. The cabin was empty. A hat lay on the driver’s seat, and a spilled bottle of water was on the floor. Kirill looked around, trying to spot any traces.
«Maybe they went for help?» he muttered to himself, but doubts remained.
The surrounding forest was unfriendly but beckoning. The branches of the trees stretched out to the road as if trying to grasp anyone who dared disturb their peace. Kirill stood, listening to the night sounds. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, and a dry branch cracked.
He returned to his car, took a flashlight from the trunk, and approached the wrecked vehicle again. Focusing, Kirill began to shine the light on the ground around. Near the driver’s door, he noticed tracks. At first, they were barely discernible, but further on, they became clearer. They were boot prints, leading into the forest.
«And who in their right mind would go there at night?» he muttered, turning the flashlight to maximum.
Something inside told him not to follow the tracks. «It’s none of your business,» his consciousness seemed to whisper. But a strange feeling gnawed at him—what if someone really needed help?
He stepped off the shoulder, feeling the crunch of grass and fallen leaves underfoot.
«Hey! Is anyone okay?» he called again, but only silence answered.
Step by step, he delved deeper into the forest. The flashlight beam only caught the nearest trees and underbrush, everything beyond its beam drowned in pitch darkness.
«If this is a joke, it’s a very stupid one,» Kirill said aloud, trying to calm himself.
And then he heard it. A faint, barely discernible rustle. Somewhere very close.
«Who’s there?» Kirill’s voice sounded tense.
The rustle repeated, this time louder. The flashlight caught bushes that swayed slightly.
Kirill approached closer, trying to be quiet. His heart pounded like mad. He raised the flashlight higher and directed it at the bushes.
Nothing. Empty.
«Damn it,» he exhaled, feeling a cold sweat run down his spine.
For a moment, Kirill paused. He stopped, looking into the darkness where the shadows of trees merged with the night sky. Maybe just leave everything as it is? Turn around and leave, as if he heard nothing? But the strange feeling of unease persisted.
The sound repeated. Barely audible, like a distant whisper or restrained cry. Kirill frowned, trying to figure out if he was imagining it. But no. The faint, almost elusive sound rang out again, thinly slicing through the night’s silence.
«Is anyone alive?» he called out, straining his voice, which unexpectedly trembled.
There was no answer. Only a light gust of wind passed by, swaying the branches.
Kirill took a step back, feeling the cold penetrate through his jacket. Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a short, sharp scream. The sound was so unexpected that Kirill’s fingers went cold. Now it was clear—it wasn’t the wind or random noise.
Before him stood the forest. Dark, tall trees stood out as sharp silhouettes, their bare branches resembling claws ready to grasp anyone who dared step inside. Even the ground seemed different there—damp, covered with fog.
Kirill swallowed, quickly pulled out his phone, and turned on the flashlight. The narrow beam of light trembled in his hand, catching snags, dead leaves, and cracks in the bark of trees.
«Nothing to worry about. Someone just got lost. It’s normal,» he repeated to himself like a mantra.
Taking a step forward, he heard the crunch of snow underfoot. Too loud in the frightening silence. Kirill looked back, as if trying to find support in the familiar city lights, but the streetlights were far away. Now he was alone with this forest.
The beam of the flashlight roamed the ground, lighting up dead grass and broken branches. Each step was difficult—not because of obstacles, but because of the oppressive feeling of the unknown.
«Hey!» he called again, hoping that whoever had screamed would respond. But only a plaintive howl of the wind answered.
Kirill froze. His breathing became rapid, and his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He tried to convince himself that there was nothing to fear. However, something in this forest evoked an unclear, sticky feeling of anxiety.
And yet, he took another step. Then another.
The scream repeated, this time louder and sharper. Kirill nervously swallowed, feeling a cold sweat break out on his forehead. It seemed that the dark trees were getting closer every second, and their gnarled branches more and more resembled someone’s fingers.
He walked toward the sound, trying to look only ahead. «Don’t look sideways, just go,» he told himself. The crunch of snow underfoot was the only sound that disturbed the frightening silence. But the closer he got, the clearer the strange noise became—rustling, faint moans, and that alarming scream.
After a few minutes, he stumbled upon a strange place. The bush, as if broken, lay in the snow as if someone had torn through it. The snow was scattered to the sides, and around there were traces—shallow, but clearly indicating a struggle or fall.
Kirill stopped, examining large stones covered with a thick layer of moss. The stones stood unevenly, as if they had arranged themselves into a chaotic barrier. He crouched down, trying to see what was hidden behind them.
«Here! Help!» a cry came right in front of him. A female voice.
Kirill froze. The sound came from somewhere between the stones. He struggled to stand, trying to keep his phone in his hands. His heart was pounding so loud that it was audible in his ears. Kirill bent down, shone the flashlight into a narrow passage between the boulders.
And then he saw her.
A woman. She was trapped between two massive stones. Her clothing was torn, a thin stream of blood ran down her face, and her hands trembled, whether from cold or shock. Her eyes looked directly at him—frightened, pleading, but still warm with hope.
«Please… help,» she said, struggling to raise her hand.
Kirill swallowed, suppressing his fear.
«Don’t be afraid, I’ll help now,» he said, trying to speak as calmly as possible, although his voice trembled slightly.
He walked around the stones, trying to find a more accessible approach. The flashlight caught details: abrasions on her arms, remnants of fabric stuck on sharp edges of boulders. The air was heavy with the smell of wet moss and earth.
«How did you get here?» he asked, extending his hand.
«I… fell. Slipped. Thought I’d get out, but I was pinned…» her voice weakened.
Kirill looked at the stones. They appeared massive and immovable. But he knew one thing: he wouldn’t leave her here.
The woman told him that she had been unable to get out for several days. She had gone into the forest after the accident, hoping to find help, but lost her way and fell into a crevice. Her leg was tightly trapped between two stones, and she had tried to free herself, but to no avail.
Kirill surveyed the site, trying to assess how he could help her. The stone looked massive, and although the woman tried to move her leg, it was all in vain. He cautiously approached and, squatting down, pushed his hands against the boulder, trying to move it. But the stone didn’t even budge.
«Okay,» he said, catching his breath. «Let’s try another way.»
He quickly looked around, peering into the darkness illuminated by the weak light of his flashlight. A few steps away, he noticed a thick, sturdy branch lying at the roots of an old tree. Kirill grabbed it and returned to the crevice.
«Now we’ll try to use this as a lever,» he explained, though he spoke more to calm himself.
The woman quietly nodded, watching his actions with hope and anxiety.
Kirill inserted the branch under the base of the stone and began to press down on the other end with force. The stone initially didn’t give way. Kirill’s forehead was covered in sweat, but he didn’t stop.
«Come on…» he whispered, feeling all his muscles strain.
Suddenly, the stone slightly moved. Then again. Within a few seconds, the woman’s leg was free.
«All done, you’re free,» he exhaled, tossing the branch aside.
He extended his hand, helping her to stand. The woman struggled to lean on her legs. They trembled as if they could buckle at any moment. Kirill caught her in time, supporting her shoulders.
«Quiet, quiet… Hold on to me,» he said.
She couldn’t hide her relief, but she still looked exhausted. Kirill decided they needed to get her to the road as soon as possible.
On the roadside, he sat her down on a small stump, which seemed relatively comfortable. The woman was still breathing heavily, but her lips quivered in a weak smile.
«Thank you…» was all she could muster.
Kirill immediately called an ambulance, describing their location. Then he took off his jacket and carefully draped it over the woman’s shoulders.
«It’ll be warmer this way,» he explained, sitting down beside her.
She continued to look at him with tearful eyes.
«I got lost three days ago… I already thought that was it…» her voice trembled. «If it weren’t for you…»
Kirill smiled gently.
«It’s okay. You’re strong to have held on. Everything will be alright now.»
They waited for the ambulance, listening as the night forest gradually quieted down. Kirill tried to joke to distract her, but he saw that her thoughts were still returning to what she had endured.
«I had already given up hope…» she suddenly said, clutching the edge of the jacket. «I thought no one would find me.»
«See? The world isn’t that big,» Kirill replied. «The main thing is that you’re now safe.»
When the ambulance lights appeared in the distance, the woman weakly smiled, and Kirill felt the weight of responsibility begin to lift from his shoulders. But at that moment, he realized he had done something more than just help. He had saved someone’s life.
After that incident, Kirill couldn’t think about the past. Everything that had once seemed simple and understandable was turned upside down. He remembered how often he had passed by others’ misfortunes, thinking it was none of his business. «Everyone has their own problems,» he had excused himself. But now everything was different.
The moment he saw the woman’s face—frightened, exhausted—remained in his memory forever.
He couldn’t help but think: what if he had just passed by? How often do people turn away, thinking their help won’t change anything? This case showed him: sometimes even the smallest act can save a life.
A few days after the incident, he received a call. Kirill didn’t recognize the number, but he answered anyway.
«Hello, is this Kirill?» a familiar, but slightly trembling voice sounded.
«Yes, it’s me,» he responded, feeling something stir inside.
«It’s… it’s me, the woman you saved. I just wanted…» She paused, as if gathering courage. «I wanted to say thank you again.»
Kirill froze, unsure what to say.
«You changed my life,» she continued. Her voice carried sincere gratitude. «I don’t even know how things would have turned out if you hadn’t been there.»
He was silent, feeling warmth spread through his body.
«You’re welcome,» he finally said. «I just did what I had to do.»
