Kirill was long accustomed to nighttime drives. He loved the silence of empty roads, the lulling rhythm of the tires, and the time alone with his thoughts. During such hours, even the most chaotic thoughts seemed to order themselves, as if the road helped align them. But that night, something was off.
The forest he was driving through seemed unwelcoming, even grim. Tall pines rose like black silhouettes, obscuring the rare stars. The air seemed denser, and the nighttime highway stretched on endlessly. His phone showed almost midnight. The car smoothly rustled along the asphalt, its headlights catching road signs and the occasional reflections of wild animals’ eyes.
Kirill felt a strange tension, though he couldn’t explain its origin.
Suddenly, far ahead, he noticed a faint blinking light. Emergency lights. He squinted, trying to see what was happening, but the lights appeared and disappeared around the bend in the road.
Kirill slowed down. «Probably someone had an accident,» he thought. The forest highway was deserted, and the likelihood that help was already there was slim.
As he approached, he noticed a wrecked car. Its front bumper looked as if it had been smashed at full speed. Dust and dirt covered the license plates, and a 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 response. Only the night wind passed through the forest, stirring the treetops.
Kirill approached closer, careful not to step on the glass shards that glinted in the light of the headlights. He looked inside. The cabin was empty. A hat lay on the driver’s seat, a spilled bottle of water on the floor. Kirill looked around, trying to discern any traces.
«Maybe they went for help?» he muttered to himself, but doubts remained.
The surrounding forest was unwelcoming, yet it drew him in. The branches of the trees reached out to the road as if trying to grab anyone who dared disturb their peace. Kirill stood listening to the night sounds. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, a dry branch cracked.
He returned to his car, took a flashlight from the trunk, and approached the wrecked car again. Focusing, Kirill began to shine the light on the ground around. Near the driver’s door, he noticed footprints. At first, they were barely distinguishable, but further on, they became clearer. These 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 him advised against following the tracks. «It’s none of your business,» his consciousness seemed to whisper. But a strange feeling gnawed at his chest—what if someone really needed help?
He stepped off the roadside, feeling the crunch of grass and fallen leaves under his feet.
«Hey! Is anyone there? Are you alright?» 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; beyond its reach, everything was plunged into 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. Very close by.
«Who’s there?» Kirill’s voice sounded tense.
The rustle repeated, this time louder. The flashlight caught bushes that were slightly swaying.
Kirill moved closer, trying to be quiet. His heart pounded like mad. He raised the flashlight higher and directed it at the bushes.
Nothing. Empty.
«Damn,» he breathed out, feeling a cold sweat run down his back.
For a moment, Kirill paused. He stopped, staring into the darkness where the shadows of the trees merged with the night sky. Maybe just leave everything as it is? Turn around and leave as if he hadn’t heard anything? But a strange feeling of unease wouldn’t let go.
The sound repeated. Barely audible, like a distant whisper or a restrained cry. Kirill frowned, trying to determine if it was just his imagination. But no. A 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 quivered.
There was no answer. Only a light gust of wind passed by, swaying the branches.
Kirill took a step back, feeling the cold seeping through his jacket. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a short, sharp scream. The sound was so unexpected that Kirill’s fingers went cold. Now it was definitely clear—it wasn’t the wind or a random noise.
In front of him stood the forest. Dark, tall trees stood out as clear silhouettes, their bare branches resembling claws ready to clutch at anyone who dared step inside. It seemed even the ground there was different—damp, covered in mist.
Kirill swallowed, quickly pulled out his phone, and turned on the flashlight. The narrow beam of light trembled in his hand, catching stumps, dead leaves, and cracks in the tree bark.
«Nothing scary. Just someone 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 this frightening silence. Kirill looked back as if trying to find support in the familiar city lights, but the lanterns were far behind. Now he was alone with this forest.
The flashlight beam searched the ground, lighting up dead grass and broken branches. Each step was hard—not because of obstacles, but because of the oppressive feeling of the unknown.
«Hey!» he called again, hoping that the one who had screamed would respond. But only the plaintive howling of the wind answered.
Kirill froze. His breathing became rapid, and his heart thudded loudly in his chest. He tried to convince himself that there was nothing frightening here. However, something in this forest caused an unclear, sticky feeling of anxiety.
Yet he took another step. Then another.
The scream repeated, this time louder and sharper. Kirill nervously swallowed, feeling cold sweat on his forehead. It seemed that the dark trees were getting closer every second, and their knotty branches looked more and more like someone’s fingers.
He walked towards 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 terrifying silence. But the closer he got, the clearer became the strange noise—rustling, weak moans, and that disturbing scream.
After a few minutes, he stumbled upon a strange place. The shrubbery, as if broken, lay in the snow, as though someone had burst through it. Snow was scattered around, and there were tracks—shallow, but clearly indicating a struggle or a fall.
Kirill stopped, examining the large rocks covered with a thick layer of moss. The rocks were unevenly stacked as if they had naturally formed 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 woman’s voice.
Kirill froze. The sound came from somewhere between the rocks. He struggled to stand up, trying to keep the phone in his hands. His heart pounded so loudly that he could hear the dull thumps in his ears. Kirill leaned forward, shone the flashlight into the narrow passage between the boulders.
And there he saw her.
A woman. She was trapped between two massive stones. Her clothes were torn, a thin stream of blood ran down her face, and her hands trembled, as if from cold or shock. Her eyes looked straight 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 you now,» he said, trying to speak as calmly as possible, although his voice trembled slightly.
He walked around the rocks, trying to find a more convenient approach. The flashlight caught details: abrasions on her arms, remnants of fabric stuck on the sharp edges of the boulders. The air was heavy with the smell of wet moss and earth.
«How did you get here?» he asked, reaching out his hand.
«I… I fell. I slipped. I thought I could get out, but I got pinned…» her voice weakened.
Kirill looked at the stones. They appeared massive and immovable. But he knew one thing: he would not leave her here.
The woman explained that she had been unable to get out for several days. She went into the forest after an accident, hoping to find help, but lost her way and fell into a crevice. Her leg was tightly wedged between two stones, and she had tried to free herself, but to no avail.
Kirill surveyed the area, trying to assess how he could help. The stone looked massive, and although the woman tried to move her leg, it was useless. He cautiously approached and, crouching down, braced his hands against the boulder, trying to move it. But the stone did not budge.
«Okay,» he said, catching his breath. «Let’s try something else.»
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.
«We’ll try using this as a lever,» he explained, although he was more talking 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 effort. The stone initially did not give way. Kirill’s forehead was covered in sweat, but he did not stop.
«Come on…» he whispered, feeling all his muscles strain.
Suddenly, the stone shifted slightly. Then more. Within a few seconds, the woman’s leg was free.
«All right, all right, you’re free,» he exhaled, tossing the branch aside.
He extended his hand, helping her to stand. The woman leaned on her feet with difficulty. They trembled as if they might give out at any moment. Kirill caught her in time, supporting her by the shoulders.
«Easy, easy… Hold on to me,» he said.
She could not hide her relief, but still looked exhausted. Kirill decided they needed to get to the road as quickly 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 trembled in a weak smile.
«Thank you…» was all she could manage to say.
Kirill immediately called an ambulance, describing their location. Then he took off his jacket and carefully draped it over the woman’s shoulders.
«This will keep you warmer,» he explained, sitting down beside her.
She continued to look at him with tear-filled eyes.
«I got lost three days ago… I thought it was over…» her voice trembled. «If it weren’t for you…»
Kirill smiled gently.
«It’s okay. You’re strong to have lasted. Everything will be alright now.»
They waited for the ambulance, listening as the night forest gradually fell silent. Kirill tried to joke to distract her, but he saw that her thoughts were still returning to the ordeal.
«I had 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 safe now.»
When the ambulance lights appeared in the distance, the woman smiled weakly, and Kirill felt the weight of responsibility begin to lift from his shoulders. But at that moment, he realized that he had done something more than just help. He had saved someone’s life.
After this incident, Kirill couldn’t think about the past anymore. 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 justified to 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 thinking: what if he had just walked past? 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 said.
«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 her courage. «I wanted to say thank you again.»
Kirill paused, not knowing what to say.
«You changed my life,» she continued. Her voice conveyed 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.»
