Foot Prints

She was alone, so so alone. Sadly that is nothing new. Nobody had been on her island in at least a century, not since she had died. Then again she'd been alone since before she had died.

As she walked along the coastline she would periodically look back to see if she had left any footprints, but no matter how much she wished she knew she never would. Which is why it had surprised her when she saw a trail of footprints in the distance.

Phoebe had a bad feeling about the trail, but at the same time it's not like whomever was behind the footprints could hurt her, or even see her for that matter. 

She decided to follow the trail going the opposite direction of the steps first. That way she would hopefully go the direction of the least trouble. After a short period of walking she had found what looked like a hastily made raft. It was made of three large decomposed logs that had been tied together with a fraying rope in a haphazard way. She was quite surprised it had even made it to her island. 

It wasn't much to look at and after staring at it for longer than necessary, she decided to go the other direction. It was safe to reason that whomever had made the sorry excuse of a rafe wouldn't be smart enough to realize that they were being followed. Especially not by her.

After following the trail for what felt like hours Pheobe was starting to lose hope of ever catching up with them. She had walked across over half of the coast and a large chunck of the forest that covered most of her island. Whomever the footprints belonged to clearly thought they were alone based on how they didn't seem to care about their trail in the forest.  Somehow the trail was just as clear in the dirt as it was in the sand.

What had felt like forever later Pheobe had finally done it. She had caught up to the mystery person. The person, which Pheobe now realized was male, was slumped over a rock. As she got closer she could see that he was in rough shape. He had long stringy hair and clothes  that looked like they were a light breeze from flying away.  Through the clothes she could practically count his ribs. In his right hand there was a large golden chain with blue stones embedded in it.

To Pheobe it was crystal clear, this man was a theif. He had to have stolen the chain and had made a sad excuse of an escape. 

As she continued to judge him she realized,  he wasn't breathing. " Good riddance " she huffed. She decided he wasn't worth watching him decompose and started to leave.

"Is someone there?" yelled a deep masculine voice.

Pheobe jumped, if she had a beating heart she knew it would have stopped. 

She took a moment to calm down and think. She knew that there was only one set of footprints and that the owner was dead. 

"I can see you! Come here whoever you are!" demanded the voice.

Pheobe turned around slowly. In the distance could could she it, the light green glow. The same glow that surrounded her. 

The thief. He too was now to suffer the same fate as Pheobe.  The curse, to haunt this bloody island till the end of days.