We were already running late by the time we finally reached the
beach house. The roads leading here had been
confusing, and the rain didn't help at all.
The directions on the map felt like a joke, and honestly, I was
starting to wonder if this getaway was worth all the
hassle. But as soon as we pulled into
the gravel driveway, I took a deep breath.
It looked quaint, I guess, kind of what you'd expect from an
isolated vacation spot by the beach, white paint chipping off
the wood, a cute front porch, and lots of seagrass swaying in
the wind. See, we made it.
Maddie said, her smile trying to lift the mood.
I smiled back, even though something didn't feel right.
I chalked it up to exhaustion. Ethan was already asleep in the
back seat, hugging his stuffed dinosaur, and I hated to wake
him, but we were here, might as well try to enjoy it, right?
Inside, the house was mostly cozy, but something about it
just felt off. There were all these old glass
bottles lined up on shelves, each filled with different
colors of sand. There must have been dozens of
them, and everyone was labeled in this neat handwritten script.
I didn't pay much attention to them at first, though.
I was more focused on getting our bags inside before the rain
picked up again. We set Ethan down in the bedroom
that had been set up for kids. Brightly painted walls, a small
dresser and a rocking chair in the corner.
It had a kind of worn out charm to it.
That's when Ethan spotted it, A large rag doll sitting right on
the bed. It's red yarn hair and stitched
smile gave it this weirdly cheerful look, but there was
something about its button eyes that made me pause.
Look, daddy. Ethan grinned, grabbing the
doll. She's going to be my friend, her
name's Miss Molly. Maddie gave me a shrug and a
smile. Guess Miss Molly's coming along
for the vacation. I forced a chuckle.
Sure, buddy, Miss Molly's great. Still, as we unpacked and got
settled, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was a
little strange. The house had that salty, damp
smell like most places near the ocean, but there was also
something metallic in the air, like rust or old nails.
Every time I glanced at those sand bottles on the shelves, I
felt like they were almost watching us.
I know that sounds silly, but they just seemed out of place.
Later, we decided to make dinner.
Maddie took charge of the kitchen and I helped where I
could, mostly keeping Ethan busy.
We laughed, we ate, and things started to feel normal again.
Maybe I'd been overthinking it, maybe I was just tired, but
right after dinner, while we were cleaning up, Ethan said
something that made me freeze. Miss Molly says we shouldn't go
near the lighthouse. He mumbled, staring at the doll
with wide eyes. I exchanged a glance with
Mattie, who raised an eyebrow. What lighthouse?
She asked. We hadn't even mentioned it to
Ethan. The one outside, she says it's
bad. Well, that's just your
imagination, buddy. I said, my voice sounding more
confident than I felt. But inside, something was
twisting. How did he know there was a
lighthouse? We hadn't even left the house
since we arrived. Mattie brushed it off, telling
Ethan it was just a game, and soon we put him to bed.
He insisted on keeping Miss Molly with him, and I figured it
wasn't worth the argument. I tucked him in, gave him a kiss
on the forehead, and turned off the light.
He looked so peaceful clutching that doll, but for some reason,
it left a nod in my stomach. After Ethan fell asleep, Maddie
and I sat on the couch trying to unwind.
The wind was picking up outside, and the house seemed to creak
with every gust. We tried to watch something on
TV, but the signal was bad out here.
Eventually, we just let the sound of the rain fill the room.
I don't know when I fell asleep, but I remember waking up with a
start. The room was dark, and
everything was quiet. Too quiet.
It took me a second to realize what had woken me.
There was a noise, something soft and rhythmic, a tapping
sound. I blinked, trying to shake off
the sleep. Tap, tap, tap.
It was coming from the window. I turned to Mattie, but she was
still asleep, her head resting on the arm of the couch.
Carefully, I stood up, moving towards the window.
My heart pounded in my ears as I peered through the glass.
There, just beyond the porch, was a figure, a man standing in
the rain, staring right at me. He didn't move, didn't say
anything, just stood there, his face shadowed under the brim of
a hat. I swallowed hard, feeling a
chill run down my spine. Who was he?
What did he want? For a second, I thought I saw
his mouth move, like he was trying to say something.
I reached for the latch, my hand trembling.
But then the figure just turned and walked away, disappearing
into the dark. I stood there, frozen, my breath
catching in my throat. I wanted to wake Mattie, to tell
her what I'd seen, but something stopped me.
Maybe it was fear, maybe it was disbelief.
Maybe I just wanted to pretend it hadn't happened, but as I
stood there staring out into the rain, I knew one thing for sure.
Something wasn't right here, and whatever it was, it had just
begun. The rest of the evening went by
without much excitement, but I couldn't shake the image of that
man standing outside in the rain.
Who was he? Why was he just staring at us
like that? Every time I thought about it, I
got this weird feeling in my chest, like something was
pressing down on me. But Maddie seemed calm, so I
tried to be too. I mean, maybe he was just some
local guy who got lost in the storm.
At least that's what I told myself.
After we put Ethan to bed, I made sure to lock all the doors
and double check the windows. I even peeked out the front
window one last time. But there was no one out there,
Just the rain falling on the empty porch and the shadows cast
by the swaying trees. Everything was still, but in a
way that made me feel uneasy, like the quiet was holding its
breath. Maddie had already drifted off
on the couch, so I decided to join her.
The wind was picking up again, making the house creak, and
honestly, I was tired. I wrapped a blanket around my
shoulders, but sleep wouldn't come.
My eyes kept flicking over to the windows, half expecting to
see that man again. But after a while, I guess
exhaustion won and I finally dozed off.
I don't know how much time passed before I woke up.
It was one of those moments where you're not sure if you
really heard something or if you dreamed it.
But there it was again, this soft, rhythmic tapping sound.
Tap, tap, tap. It was coming from the front
door this time. I sat up slowly, my heart
thudding in my chest. The room was dark, and the only
light was from the moon filtering through the curtains.
Maddie was still asleep, curled up on the couch.
For a second I thought about waking her, but something
stopped me. I didn't want to scare her if it
was nothing. I got up and moved towards the
door, trying to be as quiet as I could.
The tapping continued, steady and patient.
Tap, tap, tap. My stomach was in knots and I
felt like I could hear every beat of my heart and my ears.
I took a deep breath and peeked through the peephole.
It was him, the man from the beach.
He was standing there, his face half hidden under his hat, his
clothes soaked from the rain. I couldn't make out his
expression, but his eyes seemed wide, almost frantic.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
What did he want? Slowly, I unlocked the door just
enough to crack it open. The air was cold and wet, and I
could hear the rain more clearly now.
What do you want? I whispered, my voice barely
audible. The man leaned in closer, his
eyes locking on to mine. He opened his mouth and I had to
strain to hear him over the wind.
She's listening to your son through the doll.
He said, his voice hoarse and urgent.
I blinked, not sure I'd heard him right.
What? I asked, but before I could say
anything else, he turned and ran.
Just like that, he bolted down the porch steps and disappeared
into the darkness, leaving me standing there with the door
half open and my heart racing. I slammed the door shut, my
hands shaking as I locked it again.
I took a step back, trying to make sense of what just
happened. She's listening to your son
through the doll. What did that even mean?
I turned around, my eyes immediately landing on the
hallway that led to Ethan's room.
I felt this sudden rush of panic, like I needed to check on
him right away. I hurried down the hallway, my
footsteps barely making a sound on the old wooden floor.
When I opened the door to Ethan's room, everything looked
normal. He was asleep, his small chest
rising and falling gently. Miss Molly was there, tucked
under his arm, her button eyes staring up at the ceiling.
I felt my stomach twist. There was something about those
eyes that made my skin crawl. I walked over to the bed, trying
not to wake Ethan. I reached out and carefully
pulled the doll away from him. He stirred a little, but didn't
wake up. I held Miss Molly in my hands,
turning her over, trying to see if there was anything unusual
about her. She just looked like an old rag
doll, worn fabric, stitched smile, nothing strange, but I
couldn't ignore what the man had said.
I carried the doll back into the living room and set her down on
the coffee table. Then I went to the kitchen and
grabbed a pair of scissors. I hesitated for a second, my
hand hovering over the doll. I felt ridiculous, like I was
overreacting to some weird guys ramblings, but then I thought
about Ethan, and that was enough to push me forward.
I cut into the fabric, the stitches coming apart easily.
Stuffing spilled out onto the table, soft and white.
I kept going, my hands trembling as I opened the doll completely.
There was nothing inside, just more stuffing.
No hidden devices, no strange notes, nothing.
I let out a shaky breath, feeling both relieved and
frustrated. Maybe the guy was just crazy.
Maybe this whole thing was just some bizarre misunderstanding.
I gathered up the stuffing and the torn fabric and stuffed it
all into a plastic bag, shoving it into the cupboard under the
sink. I didn't want Ethan to see Miss
Molly like that in the morning. I went back to the living room,
collapsing onto the couch next to Maddie.
She stirred a little, mumbling something in her sleep, and I
pulled the blanket over both of us.
I tried to relax, to let the sound of the rain lull me back
to sleep, but I couldn't stop thinking about that man.
His eyes, the way he'd looked at me.
It was like he was trying to warn me, like he was scared for
us. I didn't know what to believe,
but one thing was for sure, I wasn't going to let my guard
down. Not now.
Not until I knew we were safe. The next morning, everything
seemed a little less scary in the daylight.
You know how it is sometimes when the sun's up, all the
things that kept you up at night start to feel a bit silly.
I was almost starting to convince myself that maybe I'd
imagined half of what happened last night.
Almost. But then Ethan's cough started
up again, and Maddie and I realized we'd left his inhaler
back at the house. After we went to the beach, the
weather had turned nasty again, rain slamming down, wind
whipping around, and there was no way I could let Ethan go
without his inhaler, especially since it looked like his
breathing was getting worse. So I offered to drive back alone
and grab it. Are you sure you'll be OK?
Mattie asked, her eyes searching mine.
I could see she was worried, but I forced a smile, trying to keep
things calm. I'll be fine, it's just a quick
drive there and back, I won't take long.
I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
Honestly, though, I wasn't sure if I was saying it to reassure
her or myself. The drive back felt different.
The road was more like a maze of muddy puddles, and every so
often the rain would lash against the windshield so hard I
could barely see. The wipers were working
overtime, and even though I kept telling myself I was being
ridiculous, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being
watched. It was that same prickling
sensation, like someone's eyes were on me just beyond where I
could see. When I finally pulled up in
front of the house, I let out a shaky breath.
It looked just like we'd left it, quiet, empty, but the air
felt heavy, like it was holding some secret I wasn't in on.
I stepped out of the car, the rain instantly soaking through
my jacket, and jogged to the front door.
That's when I saw it. The door wasn't closed all the
way. It was cracked open just a
little. My stomach did a nervous flip.
I was sure I'd locked it last night.
I remembered checking it, double checking it, even.
I swallowed, trying to steady myself.
Maybe the wind had pushed it open.
Yeah, that had to be it, right? I pushed the door open the rest
of the way, stepping inside. The house was cold, colder than
it should have been, and the air felt damp.
I glanced around, everything looking mostly the same, except
there were muddy footprints. They started right by the door
leading down the hallway towards the stairs.
I felt my heart start to pound. Someone had been here.
Someone had walked right into our house.
I had this urge to run, to get out of there and call the police
from the car, but I had to get Ethan's inhaler first.
I couldn't leave without it. I moved as quietly as I could,
my ears straining for any sound. I could hear the rain outside,
the wind rattling the windows, but inside?
Silence. I followed the footprints down
the hallway, my eyes fixed on the stairs ahead.
They led right up to the second floor, towards the bedrooms.
I reached the base of the stairs and hesitated.
Every part of me was screaming that I shouldn't go up there,
that I should just turn around and get out.
But I needed that inhaler, and I needed to know what, if
anything, was still upstairs. Slowly, I started up the stairs,
each creaky step sounding way too loud in the silence.
When I reached the top, I could see the hallway stretched out in
front of me, leading to Ethan's room.
The door was open, just like we'd left it, but something felt
wrong. The air felt thick, like I was
wading through it. I took a deep breath and stepped
towards the room. When I looked inside, I almost
thought I was imagining it. Miss Molly?
The rag doll we'd ripped apart last night was gone.
I'd put the pieces in a bag, stuffed it under the kitchen
sink, but the bed was empty. There was no bag, no stuffing,
no doll. My heart started pounding
faster, my throat tightening. Someone had been here, and
they'd taken the doll. I turned and hurried back down
the stairs, my hands shaking as I pulled out my phone.
I needed to call the police, tell them someone had broken in,
that they were still out there. I stumbled out of the house,
slamming the door behind me, and practically ran to the car.
I locked the doors and dialed 911, my fingers trembling. 911,
what's your emergency? The operator's voice crackled
through, calm and professional. I tried to steady my voice, but
it still came out shaky. Someone broke into our house.
I think they're still here. I, I don't know what they want,
but they took something. I need help.
The operator asked me to stay on the line, and I could hear my
own breathing, fast and uneven. I kept my eyes on the House,
half expecting to see someone come out, but no one did.
The rain kept falling, and the house stood there, dark and
empty. It felt like forever before the
police finally arrived, their blue and red lights cutting
through the rain. Two officers got out of their
car, and I waved to get their attention.
They nodded, one of them gesturing for me to stay put
while they went inside. I watched them go in,
disappearing behind the door. My fingers tapped nervously
against the steering wheel. I wanted to believe that they'd
find nothing, that it had all been in my head, but deep down I
knew that wasn't true. After what felt like ages, the
officers came back out. They didn't look alarmed or
worried, just confused. One of them walked over to my
window and I rolled it down. We didn't find anyone inside,
Sir. He said, his expression almost
sympathetic. Nothing seems to be disturbed.
I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him about the footprints
and the missing doll, but the words got stuck in my throat.
They wouldn't understand, and maybe they wouldn't believe me
anyway. I nodded slowly, feeling a mix
of relief and dread. Thanks.
I managed to say. We're leaving today, I don't
think we'll be staying here any longer.
The officer gave me a nod and they both headed back to their
car. I watched them drive away, the
house still standing there behind me, its secrets hidden
inside. I took a deep breath and started
the car. It was time to go, to get Maddie
and Ethan and leave this place far behind.
Whatever was happening here, I wasn't sticking around to find
out. After the police left, I just
sat there in the car for a minute, trying to calm myself
down. I knew one thing for sure, we
had to get out of this place. Whatever was happening here, it
wasn't safe for us and I wasn't about to take any more chances
with my family. I took a deep breath and turned
the key, the engine roaring to life.
Time to go back and get Maddie and Ethan.
The drive back to the other house felt longer than it should
have, my nerves on edge the whole time.
Every rustle of the wind, every flicker of a shadow made me grip
the steering wheel tighter. I kept telling myself that it
would be OK once we got out of here, once we were far away from
this place, but it was hard to believe it.
When I finally pulled into the driveway, Mattie was already at
the door, holding Ethan close. She looked relieved when she saw
me, and I couldn't blame her. I waved to let her know
everything was OK, or at least as OK as it could be, and I
quickly got out of the car. We need to pack up and go now.
I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
The police didn't find anything, but I'm not taking any chances.
Let's get out of here before the storm gets worse.
Maddie nodded and we both went inside.
Ethan was tired and confused, clinging to Maddie as we packed
our things. I tried to move quickly,
throwing clothes into bags and gathering everything we needed.
I wanted to be out of that house as fast as possible.
Every minute we stayed felt like a minute too long.
I headed upstairs to grab Ethan's toys from his room.
The air felt even colder up there, like the house was trying
to keep us in. I shook off the thought and went
straight to his room, my eyes scanning the shelves and the
floor. That's when I noticed something
that made my stomach drop. One of the sand bottles was
missing. There had been a line of them on
the mantelpiece, each bottle a different shape, filled with
sand in different colours. But now the one shaped like a
lighthouse was gone. I stood there, staring at the
empty space, my mind racing. Who would take it and why?
A chill ran down my spine and I felt my heart start pounding
again. I couldn't ignore it.
Something was wrong here, something that went beyond just
an old doll and a strange man in the rain.
I had no idea who had been in this house or what they wanted,
but it was clear now that we were being watched and they'd
left with something of ours. I grabbed Ethan's toys, shoving
them into a bag, and hurried back downstairs.
I could feel the weight of the empty space on the mantelpiece,
like it was calling after me, but I ignored it.
I had to focus on getting my family out of here.
Nothing else mattered. When I reached the living room,
Maddie was zipping up her suitcase, her eyes wide with
worry. What's wrong?
She asked, her voice soft, but I could hear the fear underneath.
I hesitated for a moment. Should I tell her about the
missing bottle? Would it make things worse
knowing that someone had been inside again?
But then I realized that she needed to know.
She deserved to know why I was so scared.
One of the sand bottles is gone. I said, my voice barely above a
whisper. The one shaped like a
lighthouse. I don't know who took it or why,
but someone's been in here. We need to leave now.
Maddie's face went pale and she nodded, pulling Ethan closer.
OK, let's go. We carried our bags out to the
car, the wind whipping around us as we loaded everything in.
I kept looking over my shoulder, half expecting to see that man
again standing in the distance watching us.
But there was no one there, just the empty house and the rain
soaked landscape. Once everything was packed, we
all got into the car and I started the engine.
I glanced back at Ethan, who was sitting in his car seat holding
his stuffed dinosaur. He looked up at me with sleepy
eyes and I forced a smile. We're going home buddy.
I said, trying to sound cheerful.
No more spooky beach house, just us, OK?
Ethan nodded, but he didn't say anything.
I could tell he was still confused, but he trusted us and
that was all I needed. I turned back to the road, my
hands gripping the wheel as I pulled out of the driveway.
The house grew smaller in the rear view mirror, but the unease
didn't leave me. As we drove away, I couldn't
help but glance back one last time.
I knew it was just a house, 4 walls and a roof, nothing more.
But it felt like it was watching us leave, its secrets hidden
behind those peeling walls. The missing sand bottle, the man
in the rain, the eerie warnings, they all weighed on me like a
puzzle I couldn't solve. I wanted to believe that we were
safe now, that whatever had been there couldn't reach us anymore.
But deep down, I knew that wasn't true.
The missing bottle was out there somewhere, and whoever had taken
it, whoever had been watching us, was still out there too.
I looked over at Mattie, who was staring out the window, her face
lined with worry. I reached over, taking her hand
in mine, and she looked at me, giving me a small, tired smile.
I tried to smile back, but it felt forced.
Everything's going to be OK. I said, though I wasn't sure if
I believed it. We're going to be fine.
Maddie nodded, but I could see the doubt in her eyes.
I squeezed her hand, focusing on the road ahead.
The rain kept falling and the wind howled, but we were moving
forward, and that was all that mattered.
For now, at least. I wasn't sure what I'd expected
of Hollow Woods, but this wasn't it.
You know how some places just feel wrong, like they weren't
meant for you? That's what I felt the moment we
parked the car and stepped into the thick, dense forest.
It was something in the way the shadows seemed to stretch
further than they should, like they wanted to pull us in.
But Mike, well, he didn't seem to notice.
He was grinning ear to ear, like he was born to be out here,
surrounded by nothing but trees and the promise of something
unknown. Come on, Lucy, Mike called,
hoisting his pack higher on his shoulders.
It's not that far. Lucy rolled her eyes, tugging at
her backpack straps. I could tell she wasn't
thrilled. Her eyes had that look that said
I'd rather be anywhere else but here, Though she wasn't quite
ready to say it out loud. I gave her a smile, trying to
ease her nerves, but it felt thin.
Something about the place had my own anxiety brewing too.
I just wasn't ready to admit it either.
The others, Brian always relaxed, and Sam, practical to a
fault, were already chatting ahead, their voices cutting
through the otherwise dead silence of the woods.
Even the birds seem to be holding their breath, But maybe
that was just my imagination. About half an hour in, we
stumbled across this old well, set back a bit from the path.
It looked ancient, the stone covered in green Moss, vines
tangled around it like nature was trying to hide it from view.
And the water, well, it was the oddest thing, clear enough that
you could see the bottom, but with this weird greenish glow,
like it was reflecting light from somewhere that shouldn't
exist. Wow.
Mike said, leaning in a little too close for my liking.
This is kind of cool, isn't it? Lucy didn't think so.
Her feet were aching, I could see her wincing with every step.
So when she plopped herself down beside the well and dipped her
feet in the water, I couldn't say I blamed her.
But I didn't like it, not one bit.
Something about that well made my skin crawl.
Lucy. I said, trying to keep my voice
light. Maybe don't.
She just looked at me, tired and done with it all.
It's fine, Kate, honestly, it's just water.
But it wasn't. I couldn't put my finger on why,
but every part of me screamed that there was something wrong
with it, the way it glowed, the way the air seemed colder the
closer you got. But I kept my mouth shut
because, well, what do you say when everyone else thinks it's
just your imagination? After a while we moved on,
though Lucy seemed different, quieter, like something had
drained the life out of her. The others didn't notice, they
were too busy laughing at Mike's ridiculous stories.
But I noticed, and the further we went, the heavier the feeling
got, like the woods were pressing in on us watching.
By the time we reached Raven Hollow, the light was fading.
We set up camp, and for a little while things felt almost normal.
The Creek nearby was beautiful, sparkling in the sunset, and the
tension that had been knotting up my stomach seemed to ease.
We even laughed, really laughed, like we'd done 100 times before,
and for a moment I almost forgot about the well, about that
strange cold dread. Almost.
That night, after the fire had burned down and we'd all settled
in our tents, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling of fabric
above me. Lucy was next to me, but she
hadn't said a word since she'd gone to bed, just lay there,
still and silent, her breathing shallow.
I turned over, trying to sleep, but that feeling wouldn't leave
me. Something was off, something was
wrong. And then I heard it.
The faintest whisper, like a voice carried on the wind,
coming from somewhere deep in the woods.
I held my breath, listening. It sounded almost like Lucy, but
it wasn't her. I knew that with a certainty
that made my blood run cold. The whisper stopped, and all I
could hear was the rustle of leaves outside and the pounding
of my own heart. I wanted to wake the others, to
say something, anything, but I didn't.
Instead, I closed my eyes tight, praying for mourning, praying
that it was all just my imagination.
But deep down, I knew it wasn't. I'd hoped a good night's sleep
would make everything feel normal again.
Funny how hope can feel so misplaced when you're staring at
a nightmare. I woke up to Mike's face, pale
as a ghost, hovering over me, his eyes wide with something I'd
only ever seen on people who've stared death in the face.
Pure, unfiltered fear. Kate.
He whispered, shaking my shoulder.
You need to come with me. It's Brian, it's bad.
I blinked at him, not quite awake, but the look in his eyes
pulled me upright like a fish on a line.
I didn't even put on my shoes, I just followed him out of the
tent, heart pounding, every instinct telling me that
whatever was waiting was going to change everything.
We crossed the clearing in a rush, the early morning mist
clinging to our legs, damp and heavy.
I could hear the Creek before I saw it.
The soft murmur of water over stones, usually so peaceful, now
felt sinister, like it was hiding something from me.
And it was. When I saw Brian, everything
inside me went cold. He was face down, half in the
water, his body lying there like a discarded rag doll.
His skin was covered in dark bruises, and there, just beside
him, was a jagged rock, its edge smeared with blood.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
This was supposed to be a fun trip, a break from the city.
But there he was, and I knew that whatever fun we thought
we'd have was over. God.
I whispered, stepping closer, though every part of me wanted
to run the other way. What happened, Mike?
He didn't answer, just shook his head, his eyes glued to Brian.
I could feel the panic rising in my chest, like a scream that
wouldn't come out. I turned and ran back to the
campsite, hoping to find Sam and Lucy, praying this was some kind
of sick, horrible accident. But when I got there, the scene
was worse than I could have imagined.
The tent was torn, like something had ripped it apart
from the inside. There was no sign of Sam, only
the remnants of our gear scattered around and drag marks,
Marks that led away from the campsite, deeper into the woods.
I stood there, frozen, my mind raced, trying to piece it
together. Where was Sam and Lucy, Where
was she? I turned to Mike, who'd followed
me back, his face as white as mine felt.
We both knew we had to do something, but neither of us
could seem to move. We have to find them.
I said, my voice sounding small even to me.
We can't just. I know.
Mike interrupted, and there was a quiver in his voice I'd never
heard before. He looked around, then grabbed a
flashlight from the ground. Come on, we can't stay here.
We followed the trail, my heart pounding louder with each step.
I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched.
Every rustle, every snap of a twig made me jump, my eyes
darting from shadow to shadow. The trees felt alive, like they
were closing in on us, whispering secrets I didn't want
to hear. When we reached the clearing, I
almost couldn't believe what I saw.
Lucy was standing there, but she wasn't Lucy, not really.
Her skin was an awful, sickly green, her eyes empty of
anything I recognized. She was hunched over something,
her hands stained with red. It took me a second to realize
it was Sam lying at her feet. Lucy.
I called out, my voice breaking, but she didn't even flinch.
She turned to us, her face twisted into something I
couldn't understand, and I knew right then that whatever was
left of my friend wasn't really her anymore.
Mike grabbed my arm, pulling me back, and we ran.
I don't remember much about that moment, just the sheer terror,
the feeling that if I turned around, I'd see her right behind
us. And maybe I did hear her, those
same whispers from the night before chasing us through the
dark. We reached the car, panting, my
hands shaking as I fumble for the keys.
But it was too late. Lucy, or whatever she'd become,
was there, and before I knew it, she had Mike, dragging him into
the underbrush. His scream echoed through the
trees, a sound that'll never leave me.
I knew I should have helped him, but I didn't.
I turned the key, the engine roared to life and I drove,
tears blurring my vision, my heart breaking with every mile
that took me further from him. I was alone.
It's funny how that word doesn't quite hit until you're really,
truly by yourself, surrounded by nothing but dark woods and
silence so thick it feels alive. The car speed down, the dirt Rd.
tires kicking up dust behind me, but I couldn't hear a thing over
my own heartbeat. It echoed in my ears, pounding
out a rhythm of guilt and fear. Mike was gone, and it was my
fault. I kept driving, my hands white
knuckled on the steering wheel. The forest felt endless, the
trees blurring together like they were all conspiring to keep
me there, to swallow me whole. I didn't even know where I was
going, just that I needed to get away.
Away from Lucy or whatever she was now.
I thought about stopping, about turning around, but the memory
of Mike's scream stopped me cold.
It was like I could still hear it echoing in the back of my
mind, mixing with those whispers I'd heard the night before.
They were still there, buried under everything else, and it
made me sick to my stomach. After what felt like hours, the
road finally opened up, the trees thinning out until I could
see the early morning sky again. I pulled over, my hands shaking
so badly I could barely put the car in park.
I had to catch my breath, had to think.
I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes.
Maybe if I just stayed here for a minute, I could figure out
what to do. I wasn't ready to go to the
police, not yet. How could I explain any of this?
My friends were dead, And Lucy, How could I even begin to
describe what she'd become? I opened my eyes and looked out
the window, my gaze drifting to the tree line.
And that's when I saw it. A movement just at the edge of
the woods, a flicker of green, like the Moss on that old well.
My chest tightened and I felt that familiar dread creeping up
my spine. It was Lucy, or at least it
looked like her. She was standing there, half
hidden in the shadows, her eyes fixed on me.
They were empty, hollow, like they were seeing right through
me. My breath caught in my throat
and I fumble with the keys, my fingers suddenly too clumsy to
do anything right. Come on, come on.
I muttered, my voice barely a whisper.
The engine roared to life and I slammed my foot on the gas, the
car lurching forward. In the rear view mirror, I saw
her standing there, watching me go.
Her eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, and even though I was
getting farther away, I could still feel them on me, like a
weight pressing down on my chest.
I drove until I hit the nearest town, my hands still shaking, my
mind spinning with everything that had happened.
I pulled into the parking lot of a diner, the neon sign
flickering above me, and finally let myself breathe.
I needed help. I needed someone to tell me that
I wasn't losing my mind. The door to the diner jingled as
I stepped inside, the warmth and the smell of coffee hitting me
all at once. A waitress looked up, giving me
a polite smile, but it faded when she saw my face.
I must have looked like hell, pale, wild eyed, like I'd just
seen a ghost. And maybe I had.
Are you OK Hun? She asked, her voice gentle.
And I wanted to tell her everything, about Brian, Sam,
Mike, about Lucy and the well, but all that came out was I need
to call the police. She nodded, reaching behind the
counter to grab the phone, and I sank down onto a stool, my head
in my hands. The whispers were still there,
just under the surface, and I couldn't shake the feeling that
it wasn't over, not by a long shot.
The police arrived a few minutes later, two officers, both of
them looking more confused than concerned.
I tried to explain, but the words felt wrong, too strange to
make sense. They nodded, took notes, but I
could see it in their eyes. They didn't believe me, and
honestly, I couldn't blame them. After they left, I sat there,
staring out the window at the empty St.
The sky was getting lighter, the dawn breaking over the town, but
it didn't bring me any comfort. I knew she was still out there,
Lucy or whatever had taken her place, and as I sat there, the
whispers grew louder until they were all I could hear.
I never thought I'd be so happy to see the inside of a police
station, but there I was, hands trembling as I gripped the edge
of the counter. The officer behind the desk
looked at me like he couldn't quite figure out what I was
doing there, like I was some ghost that had wandered in from
the cold. And honestly, I felt like one.
I'd barely slept, barely eaten. My clothes were still damp from
the woods, and my face. I hadn't even looked in a
mirror, but I knew it wasn't a pretty sight.
Ma'am, you need to slow down. He said, holding up a hand.
His voice was calm, like he was used to dealing with people on
the edge, and I realized that's exactly what I was.
You're saying there's bodies? Yes.
I croaked, nodding my throat raw.
My friends, they're dead. Brian, Sam, and Mike.
The names felt heavy on my tongue, like saying them out
loud made it all more real. And it did.
They were gone. And Lucy, I couldn't even bring
myself to say her name. The officer's eyes flicked to
his partner, standing a few feet away.
They shared a look, one I knew well.
It was the kind of look that said this lady's lost it, but I
wasn't crazy, I knew what I'd seen.
Please, you have to go out there.
There's something, someone still out there.
It's not safe. He sighed, picking up the phone,
and I heard him call for a team to check out Hollow Woods.
It felt like an eternity before he hung up, giving me a slow
nod. OK, we'll take a look.
Why don't you sit down, get some water?
I nodded, but I couldn't sit. I paced the small waiting area,
the walls feeling like they were closing in, every noise, the
clink of a coffee mug, the shuffle of papers felt too loud,
too sharp. My head was spinning, and that's
when I realized the whispers hadn't stopped.
They were quieter. Muffled, but they were still
there, just beneath the surface of everything else.
I turned, staring at the window. The sky was bright now, the
morning sun cutting through the blinds, and for a second I
almost believed it was over. Almost hours passed, the police
had gone to the woods, and I just waited.
I don't know what I expected. Maybe some kind of relief, a
sign that they'd found her, or at least put an end to whatever
nightmare had started at that well.
But when the door opened and the officers walked back in, I could
see it in their faces. They hadn't found her.
They'd found Brian and Sam, sure, but Lucy, She was gone.
One of the officers, a woman with kind eyes, came over to me.
She knelt down, her voice soft. We'll keep looking, all right?
We'll figure out what happened. But I could tell she didn't
believe it, and neither did I. They let me go later that
afternoon, and I ended up in a cheap motel on the edge of town,
the kind with flickering lights and a bed that felt like it was
stuffed with rocks. I didn't care.
I just wanted to be somewhere with walls, somewhere that
wasn't surrounded by trees and the echoes of those whispers.
Night fell, and I tried to sleep, but every time I closed
my eyes I saw Lucy, her face twisted and green, her eyes
empty. I kept telling myself it wasn't
her anymore, that she was gone and whatever I'd seen was
something else entirely, but it didn't help, not really.
Around midnight, I heard it. A sound that made my blood run
cold, a whisper right outside my window.
I sat up, heart pounding, my eyes fixed on the curtain.
It was just the wind. It had to be.
But as the whisper grew louder, more distinct, I knew it wasn't
over. Slowly, I got up, my feet moving
without me telling them to. I reached for the curtain, my
fingers trembling, and pulled it back.
There was nothing there, just the empty parking lot, the neon
motel sign casting a sickly glow over the asphalt.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that she was still out there,
watching, waiting. And deep down, I knew she'd
never stop. I let the curtain fall back into
place, sinking down onto the bed, my hands shaking.
I was alone again, but it didn't feel like it.
It felt like the woods had followed me, like they'd wrapped
themselves around me, whispering secrets I'd never understand.
And as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I realized I'd
never really left Hollow Woods. Not entirely.
Part of me was still there with Lucy, and it always would be.
I was so excited I could barely stand it.
This was my first real camping trip, alone with Dad, just the
two of us and Kodak, our dog. We'd been planning it for weeks,
and I felt like I was finally old enough to handle everything.
You know, just me and Dad in the wild.
It wasn't a family trip like usual, and I liked that it was
supposed to be special. We'd been hiking through the
forest for hours and honestly, it was beautiful.
The air was fresh, full of that Piney smell that makes you think
of Christmas and winter, even though it was summer.
The sun peeked through the branches above and I could hear
Kodak running up ahead, his tail wagging so fast it was like a
blur. He was in his element, jumping
over logs and sniffing everything.
Dad was in a good mood too. He kept pointing out different
things, like birds and plants, telling me what they were.
I didn't always know if he was making it up or not, but it
didn't matter. It felt like an adventure.
I even tried to remember some of what he said just in case I
needed it, like how to tell Poison Ivy from regular Ivy.
That seemed like important information.
After a while, we found the perfect spot to set up camp.
There was this small clearing surrounded by thick trees, and
you could still see a bit of the sky.
It felt like we were the only people for miles, which was
awesome, but also kind of, I don't know, quiet?
Like the world had paused just for us.
Anyway, we set up the tent and Dad let me help with the fire.
He showed me how to get the kindling just right so it
caught, and I was pretty proud when the flames started to
crackle as the sun began to set. The fire turned into this warm
glowing thing and I felt safe. The flames flickered and shadows
danced along the trees and everything felt right.
Dad roasted some marshmallows and we made s'mores.
He told me some stories about when he was a kid coming out
here with Grandpa, and I could tell he was happy.
That made me happy too. Eventually it got late and Dad
said it was time to turn in. I didn't want to, I wanted to
stay by the fire all night, but I was tired and my eyelids felt
heavy. The tent was cozy with our
sleeping bags all set up and Kodak curled up next to me, warm
and breathing in that slow, relaxed way dogs do when they're
totally comfortable. I could hear Dad's soft snores
from his corner of the tent and it made me smile.
I closed my eyes, listening to the crickets outside and the
wind in the trees. It was like a lullaby almost.
But then, I don't know, I woke up and something was different.
It was too quiet. I couldn't hear the crickets
anymore. It was like the whole forest had
just stopped. I lay there, trying to tell
myself it was nothing, that maybe I'd just imagined the
quiet. But then I noticed Kodak.
He was awake, his ears standing straight up, staring at the tent
flap. His body was stiff, and I could
hear this low growl rumbling in his throat.
I felt my heart skip a beat. Kodak.
I whispered, barely loud enough to hear myself.
He didn't look at me, he was focused on something outside.
I tried to wake Dad up, gently shaking his shoulder.
Dad. I whispered.
Something's out there. He just mumbled and turned over,
still half asleep. Then I heard it.
A sound that made my skin crawl. Footsteps.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps, crunching on the leaves just
outside the tent. It wasn't an animal, I could
tell. It was too slow, too careful.
My heart started pounding and I reached for the flashlight next
to my sleeping bag, my hand shaking a little.
I switched it on, and the beam of light seemed so small against
the darkness. Kodak was standing now, his
growl louder, almost a snarl. The footsteps kept going,
circling the tent. I wanted to scream, but I felt
frozen, like if I made a noise, whatever was out there would
know exactly where I was. I had to see.
I had to know what it was. I crawled slowly toward the tent
flap, my hands trembling as I reached for the zipper.
I opened it just a crack, enough to peek out.
The campfire was out, and everything was dark.
Too dark. The moonlight barely lit up the
clearing, and the trees looked like shadows, towering and
unmoving. I could feel sweat trickling
down the back of my neck. Nothing.
There was nothing there. But then, just as I started to
think maybe I'd imagined it, I heard the footsteps again.
This time they were moving faster, circling us like they
knew I was watching. My breath caught, and I jerked
the flashlight toward the sound, the light slicing through the
darkness. But there was nothing.
Just more shadows, more trees. I backed away, crawling toward
Dad, shaking him harder this time.
Dad. I hissed louder, my voice
cracking. He finally woke up, blinking at
me, confused. What's going on?
He asked, his voice groggy. There's someone out there.
I said, my voice barely a whisper or something.
He sat up quickly, his face changing, all the sleepiness
gone. He grabbed the hatchet we'd
brought for chopping wood, and he looked at me, his eyes
serious. Stay behind me, He said.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my ears.
The wind started to pick up again, rustling the trees, but
the footsteps were gone. Whatever it was, it had stopped.
But I knew one thing for sure. I didn't feel alone anymore, and
I didn't feel safe. The air inside the tent felt too
tight, like I couldn't get a good breath.
Dad was right next to me, clutching the hatchet, and Kodak
was standing at the tent flap, still growling his hackles up.
I tried to steady my breathing, but it was hard.
My heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest.
I wanted to believe Dad, that it was just an animal, but I knew
in my gut it wasn't. Stay close.
Dad said, his voice low. He zipped the tent flap open all
the way, and we stepped outside. The air was cold, colder than I
thought it would be. The fire had gone out
completely, and everything was dark.
The moon was up there somewhere, but it wasn't doing much good.
The forest seemed to swallow all the light.
Kodak ran out first, sniffing around.
His ears still perked. I kept my flashlight on the
small beam, shaking as my hand trembled.
Dad stepped out with the hatchet raised, looking around, and I
just stuck right behind him, trying not to make a sound.
We listened. The wind rustled the branches,
and for a second I almost felt relieved.
But then nothing else. No crickets, no rustling of
leaves like before, just silence.
I felt like we were the only people left in the whole world,
and the forest was closing in on us.
Dad let out a long breath. Probably just an animal, kiddo.
He said, though his voice was tight.
He knelt down by the fire pit and started to gather some of
the kindling we'd left nearby. Let's get this fire going again,
OK? It'll keep anything away.
I nodded, even though I still felt like something was wrong.
Really wrong. I helped him with the fire,
though my hands were shaky and every little sound made me jump.
I kept glancing out at the tree line, expecting to see something
or someone watching us from the shadows, but there was nothing.
Just the dark shapes of the trees standing there, like they
were waiting for something too. After what felt like forever, we
got the fire going again. The flames flickered and popped,
and I felt a tiny bit of that warmth return.
Dad smiled at me, trying to make me feel better.
See. He said nothing we can't handle.
We're safe here. I tried to smile back, but I
could tell he didn't really believe it either.
He kept looking out at the trees, his eyes narrowed, like
he was expecting something to come rushing out at any second.
Kodak finally relaxed a little, lying down next to me, though
his eyes still followed every little movement outside the
light of the fire. We sat by the fire for a while,
not saying much. Dad tried to make some jokes,
talking about how we'd tell Mom about our big adventure when we
got home, but his voice had this edge to it, like he was forcing
it. I just nodded, not really
laughing. The firelight made the shadows
dance across the trees, and every time I looked, I thought I
saw something moving out there, but when I turned my head, it
was always nothing. Eventually, Dad said we should
try to get some sleep. I didn't want to, not really.
I didn't want to close my eyes, not with whatever was out there.
But he promised he'd keep watch for a while, and I was so tired.
My body felt heavy, like I could barely keep myself upright
anymore. So I crawled back into the tent,
with Kodak following me in. He lay down close, his body warm
against mine, and I tried to tell myself that Dad was right.
We'd be fine, we'd get some sleep, and in the morning
everything would be better. I must have dozed off at some
point, but it wasn't a good sleep.
I kept waking up, hearing little noises, branches snapping, the
wind howling. It felt like every time I closed
my eyes something got closer. And then suddenly I woke up to a
sound that made my stomach drop. Heavy breathing.
It was right there, just outside the tent, like someone or
something was standing right at the entrance.
I sat up, my heart pounding so hard it hurt, and I looked
around. The tent was empty.
Dad was gone. Dad.
I whispered, my voice shaking. No answer, just that breathing
slow and heavy, like it was waiting for me to come out.
I grabbed the flashlight, my hands trembling as I switched it
on. The beam of light cut through
the darkness and I crawled to the tent flap, unzipping it just
enough to peek outside. My breath caught in my throat.
The fire was out again. The clearing was dark, even
darker than before, like the night had gotten thicker.
I couldn't see anything, but I knew, knew something was out
there. I could feel it, watching me,
waiting. Dad.
I called again, a little louder this time.
Still nothing. And then, out of the corner of
my eye, I saw it. Movement in the trees.
A figure, tall and shadowy, just barely visible in the moonlight.
It wasn't Dad, it was too far away too still, just standing
there, watching me. My stomach twisted and I felt
like I was going to be sick. I shined the flashlight toward
it, but the light didn't do anything.
It was like the darkness swallowed it up, bending around
the figure. I couldn't see its face, but I
knew it was looking at me. I could feel its eyes on me,
cold and angry. My breath hitched and I backed
away, almost tripping over Kodak.
He was up now, growling again, his hackles raised.
I couldn't think. I just turned and ran, the
flashlight beam bouncing wildly as I stumbled out of the tent,
Kodak right behind me. I didn't know where I was going,
I just had to get away from it. The forest was dark and I
couldn't see, but I kept running, my legs burning and my
heart pounding. I didn't stop until I reached a
clearing, panting and terrified. I looked back, but the figure
was gone. The forest was still again, but
that didn't make me feel any safer.
And then, just when I thought it couldn't get worse, I heard it.
A whisper. It was soft, almost like the
wind, but I knew it wasn't. It was saying my name, and it
wasn't my dad's voice. I could hardly breathe as I
stood there in the clearing, the whisper of my name still echoing
in my ears. Kodak stayed close, his growl
low and steady. I felt like my heart was going
to pound its way right out of my chest.
The forest around us was so dark, darker than it had any
right to be. It was like the trees were
sucking up all the light, leaving us alone in the thickest
shadows I'd ever seen. Dad.
I called out again, my voice cracking.
The only answer was the wind rustling the branches overhead.
And that whisper, I swear I heard it again, so faint, like
it was drifting on the breeze. I couldn't just stand there.
I had to find him. I had to know where he went.
Taking a deep breath, I shined, the flashlight around the beam
flickering as my hand trembled. Come on, Kodak, I whispered.
Let's go find Dad. We moved forward, back toward
the campsite, but every step felt like I was walking deeper
into something terrible. The clearing where our tent was
supposed to be was only a few minutes away, but it felt like
it took forever to get there. I kept hearing noises, branches
snapping, leaves rustling, but nothing that made sense.
And always that feeling that I was being watched, like
something just out of sight was keeping its eyes on me.
Finally, the tent came into view, but it was dark and empty,
the flap hanging open. The fire was nothing but a pile
of ashes now, the cold embers barely visible.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Dad.
I tried again, stepping closer to the tent.
No answer. Kodak sniffed at the ground, his
nose moving quickly, his body tense.
He let out a short, sharp bark and I jumped, my heart skipping
a beat. I turned the flashlight in the
direction he was facing, but there was nothing there.
Just more trees, more darkness. Where are you?
I whispered to myself, feeling my stomach twist in knots.
It didn't make any sense. He wouldn't just leave me here,
not in the middle of the night, not without saying anything.
Something had happened. I knew it deep down, even though
I didn't want to admit it. Suddenly, Kodak's head snapped
up. His ears perked, and he let out
another growl, deeper this time. I felt a chill run down my
spine. He was staring at the edge of
the clearing where the trees were thickest, like he could see
something. I couldn't.
I shined the flashlight over there, my hand shaking so bad
that the beam wobbled. For a second, I thought I saw
something. A shape, just barely visible
between the trees. It was tall, too tall, and it
didn't move like a person. It just stood there, watching.
My breath caught, and I froze, my eyes locked on that spot.
But then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.
I blinked, trying to make sense of it, but there was nothing
there any more, just darkness and shadows.
No way, I whispered, shaking my head.
I didn't know if I'd really seen it or if my mind was playing
tricks on me. Either way, I knew I had to get
out of there. I turned back to the tent, my
hands fumbling as I grabbed the sleeping bags and stuffed them
into my backpack. I wasn't about to stay here, not
after everything that had happened.
I needed to find Dad, and if he wasn't here then I was going to
go looking for him. I didn't care if it was the
middle of the night, I couldn't just sit around and wait.
Kodak stayed close, his eyes darting around, his ears
twitching at every little noise. I could tell he was just as
scared as I was, but he wasn't leaving my side.
Good boy. I whispered, trying to keep my
voice steady. We're going to be OK, we just
have to find dad. I slung the backpack over my
shoulder, gripping the flashlight tight.
We started walking, moving away from the clearing and deeper
into the forest. I didn't know exactly where I
was going, I just kept moving, hoping I'd find some sign of
Dad, something that would tell me he was OK.
But the further we went, the worse that feeling got.
The darkness seemed thicker, the trees closer together, like they
were trying to trap us, and the noises they were getting.
Louder, branches, cracking footsteps, Heavy, deliberate
footsteps. Just like before.
I stopped, my heart racing, and turned the flashlight around,
shining it in every direction. Who's there?
I shouted, my voice echoing through the trees.
Nothing, just silence, thick and heavy pressing in on me.
I could feel the sweat on my forehead, the chill of the night
air making it feel cold. And then, just when I thought I
couldn't take it anymore, I heard it again.
That whisper, my name drifting on the wind, so soft I almost
missed it. But it was there, and it was
close, too close. Please.
I whispered, tears stinging my eyes.
Where are you? My voice broke, and I felt that
fear, deep and sharp, cutting through me like a knife.
Kodak barked, loud and fierce, and I spun around, the
flashlight beam catching something, a glint of movement,
a shadow slipping between the trees.
I didn't wait to see what it was.
I grabbed Kodak's collar and we ran.
I didn't care where we were going, I just needed to get away
from whatever was out there. Branches whipped at my face, the
ground uneven beneath my feet, but I kept running, my legs
burning, my lungs aching. Kodak stayed with me, his growls
mixing with the sound of my own panicked breathing.
I didn't stop until I couldn't hear the footsteps anymore,
until the forest around me seemed still again.
I stumbled into another clearing, falling to my knees,
gasping for breath. Kodak stayed beside me, his body
pressed against mine, warm and solid.
I looked around, my eyes wide, searching the shadows, but there
was nothing, nothing but the wind and that feeling, that
awful feeling, that something was still out there, waiting,
watching. And I knew, deep down that this
wasn't over. I don't know how long I sat
there in that clearing, just trying to catch my breath.
Everything was so still, so quiet, The kind of quiet that
makes you want to scream just to break it.
Kodak pressed against me, his warm body the only thing that
made me feel like I wasn't completely alone.
But I was terrified. I kept thinking about Dad, where
he could be, what could have happened to him.
I stood up slowly, my legs shaky, and looked around.
I had no idea where I was anymore.
Everything looked the same, trees, shadows, darkness.
The flashlight wasn't much help, and it felt like the batteries
were starting to die. The light was dimmer now,
flickering just a bit, and I couldn't shake the feeling that
the shadows were closing in on us.
Dad. I called again, even though I
knew it wouldn't do any good. My voice sounded small and lost
in the vastness of the forest. I tried to think, tried to
figure out what I should do next.
I knew I couldn't just stay here.
I had to keep moving. I had to find Dad.
I started walking again, one hand gripping Kodak's collar,
the other holding the flashlight out in front of me.
Every step felt like it was taking me deeper into something
I couldn't escape. The trees were thick, their
branches reaching out like they were trying to grab me, and the
darkness was so heavy I felt like I could hardly breathe.
Then I saw it again, movement just out of the corner of my
eye. I whipped the flashlight around,
the beam shaking, And there it was, a figure, tall and shadowy,
standing between the trees. It wasn't moving, just watching.
I could feel my stomach twist, my whole body going cold.
Who are you? I shouted, my voice cracking.
What do you want? The figure didn't answer, it
just stood there, almost blending into the darkness, like
it was part of the forest. I took a step back and Kodak
growled, his teeth bared. My heart was pounding so hard I
thought I might pass out. And then, just like before, it
was gone. One second it was there, and the
next it had vanished, swallowed by the shadows.
I felt my knees go weak, and I stumbled backward, almost
falling. I didn't know what to do.
I didn't even know if I was awake any more.
Maybe this was all some horrible nightmare and I'd wake up in the
tent with Dad beside me, snoring away, but it wasn't a dream.
I could feel the cold air on my face, hear the rustle of the
wind in the branches. This was real, and whatever that
thing was, it was real too. I turned and ran.
I didn't know where I was going, but I couldn't stay there.
The flashlight beam bounced wildly, the dim light barely
lighting the way, but I just kept running.
I could hear Kodak right behind me, his paws thudding against
the ground, and that was the only thing that kept me from
completely losing it. I stumbled through the trees,
branches scratching at my arms, the cold air burning my lungs.
I couldn't hear the footsteps anymore, but I could still feel
it, that awful sense of being watched, like eyes were on me,
following me through the darkness.
I wanted to scream, but I didn't dare make a sound.
I just ran, hoping that somehow, someway, I'd find Dad, or maybe
even just a way out of this nightmare.
Suddenly, I burst into another clearing, and I stopped, gasping
for breath. My flashlight flickered, the
beam growing even dimmer, and I looked around, my eyes wide.
There was nothing here, just more trees, more darkness.
But then I saw something, A glint of light, just for a
second, reflecting off something on the ground.
I stepped closer, my heart in my throat, and knelt down.
It was Dad's hatchet. I picked it up, my hands
shaking. Dad.
I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He had to be close, he had to be.
But then I heard it again, that whisper, my name drifting
through the air, so soft it almost felt like it was inside
my head. I looked up, my eyes darting
around, and there it was, the figure standing at the edge of
the clearing, closer this time. I could see it more clearly now,
tall, with long, thin limbs, almost like it wasn't human.
The way it stood so still, so silent, made my skin crawl.
I felt tears sting my eyes, and I took a step back, clutching
the hatchet. Leave me alone.
I shouted, my voice breaking. Kodak barked, loud and fierce,
but the figure didn't move. It just watched, and I could
feel its eyes on me, cold and empty.
The flashlight flickered again, then went out completely,
plunging us Into Darkness. I gasped, my breath catching in
my throat, and I could feel the panic rising inside me, like a
wave that was about to crash over me.
I couldn't see anything, just blackness, thick and heavy,
pressing in on me from all sides.
Kodak barked again, and I felt him press against my leg, his
body warm and solid. I gripped the hatchet tighter,
my knuckles white, and tried to keep my breathing steady.
I could still hear that whisper, my name repeating over and over
like it was trying to pull me toward it.
I didn't know what to do. I felt like I was trapped, like
there was no way out. But I couldn't give up.
I had to find Dad. I had to get us out of here.
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding, and started moving
again, one step at a time, into the darkness.
I didn't know where I was going, or if I'd ever find my way out,
but I knew one thing for sure. Whatever was out there, whatever
had taken Dad, I wasn't going to let it take me too.
And as I walked, the whisper followed my name, echoing
through the trees, a reminder that I wasn't alone, not really.
Not in the way that mattered.