Why the hell would you all even want to go out there?
My grandmother would say, in that thick Texan drawl before
spitting a wad of dip into her snuff mug.
She was like a firecracker, always startling you with a pop,
even though you were the one who lit the match.
My Grandpa Joe, a towering man with calloused mitts for hands,
would grunt an assent and flip to the next page of his morning
paper. I miss them.
My brother Jesse and I are cleaning out their house after
my grandmother passed, reminiscing on the mostly fond
memories we shared. We were raised here, taken by
our mother in the dead of night to flee the terrors of my
drunken father. My father wouldn't find us in
the vast countryside of Texas, and if he did stumble upon the
needle in the haystack, he would have to answer to Big Joe, who
preferred to settle disputes with his fists.
My mom made the right call. Dad was never able to find us.
Too many tiny towns like the one we escaped to.
But if there's anything I've learned, the most evil things
can happen in the smallest places.
My grandparents left us the house, reopening a chapter in
our lives that we desperately wanted to keep closed.
I put it on the market and received a quick and generous
offer, but only for the land. The house would be demolished
and our memories would be buried under wood and rubble.
I think we'd prefer it that way. Behind the house is the vast
East Texas forest, but our neck of the woods is a little
different. Most folks from other towns use
their woods. They hike, fish or even camp in
the beautiful landscape that only a higher power could have
created. We don't go in ours.
There's a small trail where you can let your kids play, but soon
it ends abruptly and you're staring at a long metal chain
with a rusty sign which firmly reads KEEP OUT.
No one really knows why the section of the forest is closed
off. If you asked a city official,
they'd say it's because the area is privately owned by a real
estate developer, though no one can remember the company's name.
There were rumors that several people went missing over the
last 40 years because there are no trail markings, maintained
paths, and that's why we're not allowed to explore.
There were also whispers that a commune of Pentecostals resided
deeper into the forest and that they valued privacy and the
Second Amendment. The story is that the original
church in town splintered back in the 1920s and the other half
set up their own community. Now, this was actually true and
documented by parishioners of that time, but there's no
evidence that the different factions retreated into the
woods. It didn't stop rabble rousers
from claiming they had crossed the boundary and explored the
other side. Stories were varied, but all
came to the same conclusion. People were living in those
woods. Some told stories of stumbling
across makeshift shelters and tents surrounding a campfire.
Others regaled tales of seeing shadowy figures dart behind
trees in fear of seeing an outsider.
Jesse and I were naturally curious and rambunctious, as
most twin brothers could be. We scaled every inch of the
trail but reluctantly heeded our grandmother's warning of never
venturing beyond the boundary. We were fascinated about what
could be out there and discussed our theories before bed.
Our friends were also outdoorsy, and our fascination with the
uncharted territory soon became an obsession.
Well, why don't we just do it? Our friend Mikey said while we
shared a cigarette in the park. We looked at him quizzically.
We're about to start high school.
Let's see what the damn fuss is about.
Not seeing a reason not to, we devised a plan to trek the rest
of our woods. It was me, Jesse, Mikey Bird,
Wyatt Rhodes, and his older cousin Dewey, who had just
received his Eagle Scout award. Dewey was odd, but we felt a
trained outdoorsman was the best person to lead the expedition.
We decided to leave around 7:30 PM as my grandparents would be
asleep and my mom was still out of town for work.
We'd get at least one hour of daylight before sunset to
explore the forbidden green space.
I remember feeling nervous as I laced my old hiking boots and
carefully applied bug spray. We could hear Big Joe snoring in
the other room, and Jesse and I snuck out the kitchen door and
galloped toward Mikey's house. We were the last to arrive.
Dewey was messing with his compass in his full Eagle Scout
uniform while Wyatt and Mikey pensively shared another
cigarette. We set off, gliding through the
mile long trail that led to the other side.
The sun had shifted to a blood orange hue and we were surprised
to see dark clouds loom overhead.
Huh. Dewey said, shifting his thick
round glasses. The weatherman didn't say there
would be rain today. Of course you watch the weather.
Wyatt said, rolling his eyes while Mikey and I muffled our
Snickers. Do we turn back?
Jesse asked before I reminded him that this might be our only
chance. Mom would be back in town next
weekend. I ain't afraid of no rain.
Mikey declared. The rest of us agreed and
soldiered on to the rusty sign, stepping over it with ease.
Jesse crossed last and like clockwork, rain began to putter
down from the sky. It was a light summer rain, hot
to the touch and more pungent. None of us were particularly
concerned until we heard a rumbling that sounded like
Thunder. I could tell Dewey was nervous,
moving away from the tall southern oaks whose branches
looked like arms trying to grab you.
The sun was now entirely invisible, and we would not see
it again until tomorrow. A feeling of unease loomed over
us. It was hard to describe the
other side. It looked exactly like any other
part of the woods, but it felt odd.
The trail leading up was teeming with the sounds of nature from
birds or other woodland creatures, but this part of the
forest was silent, minus the rain.
I kept looking over my shoulder as I swore I could see shadows
darting in and out of my peripheral vision.
Holy crap. Dewey stopped us.
Look. In the distance was what looked
like a church Spire, though it was decayed with large chunks of
wood missing. It was enormous and stared back
at us over the tree line. Looks like there was a church
after all. Jesse said.
We should probably go. Dewey responded with his voice
quivering. They said those folks have guns.
Oh yeah, well check this out. Mikey said while pulling out a
gleaming silver pistol from his backpack.
Nabbed this from my dad's closet.
I'll show them this if they try and mess with us.
We all immediately began arguing and cursing at Mikey for doing
something so reckless. Wyatt started to turn back, but
something made him stop in his tracks.
We looked in his direction and saw something at the top of a
hill. It was a man, or at least it
looked like a man. I couldn't really make out his
face, though it appeared to sag and stare at us in a slack jawed
gaze. Mikey, the idiot he was, flashed
his gun at the strange figure. The man seemed to glance at the
weapon and sauntered back behind the hill, out of sight.
Mikey smirked. Take that.
But to our horror, the man reappeared in charge toward us,
tumbling down the hill while moaning from his open mouth.
As he got closer, I saw that he was missing an eye.
Mikey fired the pistol, but the shot was so loud that he dropped
it in shock. The man barreled into us and
knocked down Mikey while grunting and screaming from his
mouth, wailing his arms on Mikey's body like a prehistoric
primate. Dewey picked up his walking
stick and smacked the man in the face before we darted deeper
into the forest. My ears were still ringing when
we collapsed in exhaustion in an unknown clearing.
The tall Spire was closer, and torrential rain slammed down on
us. You're an idiot, Mikey.
Wyatt sputtered, digging his knuckles into the soaked earth.
We all stood up to brush ourselves off, eager to return
home. But there was one issue.
Dewey was missing. We started to panic, screaming
for Dewey's name into what seemed like the void.
Dewey had everything we needed to get out of there in his
backpack. Now we were alone, shivering and
unable to see far ahead of us. After finding our way for a bit,
we heard whistling. I didn't know the tune back
then, but now I know it was in the hall of the Mountain King.
The whistling echoed loudly through the forest, and we
noticed it was coming directly from the Spire.
We followed the melody until we reached the bushes to the
spire's entrance. The Spire was not connected to
any building and it looked like it had been moved by a crane and
onto the ground. A makeshift doorway was cut at
the bottom. We could hear muttering and
banging from inside the tower. Lightning lit up the room behind
the entrance. There was a silhouette of a
large man in the entryway. His back was turned to us, but
it became clear it wasn't the man who attacked us earlier.
The man whistling his tune then walked around back with
something slumped over his shoulder, revealing a tied up
Dewey with terror in his eyes. We crept toward the Spire and
tried to untie Dewey, but the knots were too thick and Jesse
and I quit the scouts after third grade.
I remember the smell being terrible, like rotten eggs and
spoiled meat. Mikey found a table saw nearby
and began furiously cutting the ropes until we freed Dewey.
We have to go now. He screamed and we tumbled out
of the Spire only to be greeted by the massive man from earlier.
He was wearing a full rain suit and an old welder's mask was on
the top of his head. I remember him chuckling and
then whistling like my grandpa did.
When it was time for supper, the floodlight from the top of the
entrance lit up. I looked around and saw various
heads pop out from under the bushes, each with their faces
contorted in either rage or horror.
There must have been a dozen figures, but I'm not sure I
would call them human. The beasts leapt toward us and
Jesse helped me to my feet as we barreled through the trees.
The sound of screaming and agonizing groans followed us and
I was too scared to even look back but heard the shuffling of
legs chasing after me. We kept running until Dewey
tripped over the chain boundary. The rest of us toppled over him
with wet mud painting our faces. I whipped around and saw the
reflections of a dozen eyes before they turned around and
went back into the forest. We stayed on the ground for at
least an hour, hyperventilating and cussing.
I sat up when my heart rate finally slowed down and asked
just what the hell had happened. Dewey, still exhausted,
sputtered out what he saw after hitting the man with his walking
stick. An unknown figure grabbed Dewey,
who put a funny smelling cloth over his face, and he went
unconscious. When he came to, he was tied to
a metal pole and was staring at a wooden table with what looked
like a mannequin lying on it, but Dewey soon realized it was a
body. The figure returned and began
muttering a language Dewey didn't understand.
A flash of lightning hit the top of the Spire and traveled down a
wire to the table, causing the body to jolt and convulse before
going silent. The man shook his head and left,
and we came in to untie Dewey. We said nothing.
Jesse and I didn't leave the house for almost a week until
our mother returned from her work trip.
We then uneventfully began the school year, never venturing to
the other side, except for Dewey.
Dewey graduated from high school that year, near the top of his
class. I expected him to end up at
Texas A&M or University of Texas at Austin, but instead he
disappeared. Some folks claim to see him at
local dives, chatting with itinerant strangers or spending
most of his time on the trails. While smoking a joint by myself
on the trail one night, I thought I saw Dewey slip behind
the rusted chain and cross into the forest.
Curious as to what he was up to, I followed him.
I kept my distance, but Dewey walked forward purposefully, not
bothering to even look down at his shoe.
Even though I was a little stoned, it didn't take long to
realize where he was headed. The Spire soon came into view
and Dewey slipped behind some bushes.
I knelt down to look and saw him dragging trash bags into the
towers entrance. Following him was the gargantuan
man with the welder's mask we saw last summer.
I ran as fast as I could back home.
In the morning, my grandparents found several dead birds neatly
aligned on their porch. They blamed our cat Archie, but
it felt like a warning to me. I was never going back to those
woods ever again. Until last night.
While blowing off some steam with Jesse, we ran into our old
pal Wyatt. After shooting the breeze, I
asked if Wyatt had heard from Cousin Dewey.
Wyatt grimaced and shook his head.
Turned into a recluse after y'all left for college.
Did some time in county lock up for trespassing at the local
cemetery around 10 years ago. Haven't seen him since.
Jesse smirked. He always was an oddball, wasn't
he? Wonder what he's up to now.
I had a feeling that night I couldn't sleep, tossing and
turning until I had a horrifying realization.
Our grandmother was laid to rest in that cemetery.
The ground was probably still fresh under her headstone.
I flew back to my grandparents house from our motel.
In my truck, I tore into the old shed and took the carbine
Grandpa Joe kept from his time in Vietnam.
I ensured it was clean and set off on the trail, soon reaching
the rusted chain boundary. I crossed the other side,
feeling like I was stepping into a new dimension.
The forest went silent, seeming untouched from when we were
children. I carefully made my way toward
the Spire, gripping my grandfather's gun until my
knuckles turn white. I think I hear faint whistling
in the distance. I know I am being watched.
I know I am being followed. When my dog ran off into the
woods during one of our walks, I knew I couldn't chase after her
right away. Everyone in our town knew that
the woods weren't empty. There was something in there,
and especially the older residents insisted that it was
people, or at least something akin to people.
They called them the Tribe. I never fully embraced these
beliefs, but I still acted according to them.
There were just too many things off about the woods for the
tribe to be nothing but an old legend.
The fact that everyone was utterly convinced the tribe was
real in itself was cause for concern.
I'd never heard of anybody venturing into the forest, not
even to prove the saying wrong. There was nobody working there
either, despite the area being so huge.
If the woods were normal, chances are there'd be foresters
and woodcutters or maybe even hunters in there.
That's what I figured. Our pets usually stayed far away
from the tree line as well. At that point I had no idea why
Chips, my dog, had gone off there in the 1st place.
She had never shown any interest in the woods and had even seemed
apprehensive about getting too close to them.
That's why I always thought it safe to walk alongside the tree
line. I was sure she'd never leave my
side, her tearing the leash from my hands and dashing off into
the thicket. That day had happened completely
unexpectedly. At least I knew who to go to for
advice. There's this guy named Duncan.
He's very old, maybe even the oldest man in the entire town,
and definitely the most knowledgeable.
He hangs out at a small pub most of the time, so I was sure I'd
find him there. I got on my way as fast as I
could. When I arrived at the bar, I
needed to stop for a moment to catch my breath before looking
around inside. The interior was dark in its
colors, the wood of the floor in the counter as well as the
tables being of a warm, deep brown.
The lights were just bright enough for me to easily spot the
man I'd been looking for over in one of the corner tables.
There weren't a lot of other people inside the pub at the
time. Duncan lifted his head in mild
surprise when he noticed me approaching.
We weren't total strangers in a town as small as ours, basically
everyone knew each other. Hello.
I gasped. He lifted his glass to me with a
lazy smile of greeting but didn't say anything.
I need to go into the woods. My dog ran off.
He gave me a nod as if to tell me to say no more.
He went straight to business. First off, go in there by
yourself. They don't take kindly to groups
and noise, and be respectful to those you meet inside.
He lowered his head slightly. You know they don't refrain from
leaving those woods because they don't want to.
Does that mean they're trapped there or something?
Not trapped. The woods are their home, and
this is ours, and we've forbidden them from entering
ours. That's why they don't come out.
Duncan looked me over, his brows creased, almost like he was
trying to figure out if I'd understood the gravity of the
situation. Seemingly satisfied, he nodded
and went on. The woods are big, easy to get
lost in. There's a single path through it
leads into the woods, and it'll lead you back out.
You're safe there. Follow it and you won't get
lost. Duncan gave me a few seconds to
let everything sink in before continuing once more.
You don't want to give anyone in there your real name.
Names are taboo. Knowing your name will give them
power over you to be used in our world.
His wording was ominously cryptic.
What do you mean by that? I asked.
It means you won't be able to get rid of them.
He sighed. Never mind.
Just don't let it come to that. Make up a nickname or something
and expect them to do the same. They're very careful with that
kind of thing. That's easy enough to remember.
I'd say you'll eventually come across the people in there, and
you're going to have to talk to them.
There's no way around it. I don't want to scare you, but
the further you proceed into those woods, the crazier the
ones you're going to meet will be.
Noticing my unease, Duncan gave me a quick smile.
It'll be OK, Just hurry, get in and out quickly, and avoid the
deeper parts if you can. If you stay for too long, the
people there in the woods themselves are going to start
messing with your head. It's tricky.
Everything's different in there. space-time even.
Just keep that in mind. The whole place is going to want
to screw you over. He let out a Husky laugh, though
I wasn't sure what he thought was funny.
I stood up, thanking him profusely.
I couldn't waste any more time. I hoped Chips hadn't gone deeper
into the woods in the meantime. I was prepared well enough as I
was. I still had all of my dog
walking supplies in my pockets, treats for chips, pepper spray,
and handkerchiefs in case it'd be dark.
I'd have to make do with the flashlight on my phone, but that
was all right. I headed straight for the woods.
I knew where to find the path. I'd walked by it before.
Actually stepping on to it, however, felt quite different.
There was a strong sense of unease within me.
All of a sudden I was barely 2 steps past the tree line and
already I felt like I was in a whole other world.
Maybe it was all the expectation, the anxiety built
by Duncan's instructions. But when I turned to glance
behind me back outside, it looked so far away.
The trail was just wide enough for me to stand on.
The feeling of dread grew stronger the further I went.
The trees around me stood tall and imposing, and in some places
their leaves were so lush I couldn't see the sky above.
I tried to calm my mind by listening to my surroundings.
They say the sounds of nature are the most soothing there are,
but somehow the singing of the birds and the quiet chirping of
insects around me only added to my discomfort.
Suddenly, there was something else, the sound of water
trickling down and hitting the soft forest floor.
Slightly startled, I glanced around frantically, only to find
the source just a few meters ahead of me.
It was a man, his back was turned to me and he was facing
the tree in front of him. He probably hadn't noticed me
yet, so I turned to look away and nervously cleared my throat.
Yeah, I know you're there. Give me a second, will you?
Kind of busy here. Oh, I'm sorry.
I stammered, feeling my cheeks heat up.
It's fine. The sound of the liquid running
ceased, and after two more seconds I dared to turn around
to him. I don't know what I'd been
expecting, but he wasn't it. I looked him over as discreetly
as I could. He was short, about my height,
and of about the same age as me too.
His clothes were fairly normal as well.
Jeans, boots and a white flannel shirt, the latter of which just
a bit too baggy to flatter his slight frame.
His dark overgrown hair and the stubble on his face made him
look a bit unkempt. Nice to meet you.
I said slowly. If you don't mind, I'd like to
ask you something. I hope it's not.
Don't talk fancy with me, it makes me want to puke.
Got it. I muttered, a bit embarrassed.
That had been clear enough though.
Say, do you live here? You don't look like I do though,
so I'm looking for my dog. She's white with black speckles,
pretty big. I held my hand up to my hip to
indicate her height. I haven't seen her, He replied.
And pets don't run in here for no reason.
What do you mean? Maybe someone lured it away
without you noticing. We can do stuff like that, you
know. I'd watch my back if I were you.
I swallowed, holding his gaze. I appreciate the advice, I
finally said. I'll be on my way.
The man in the white shirt gave me an indifferent shrug.
Take care, I guess. I turned to leave with a queasy
feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Glancing back over my shoulder, I found that the man was gone.
Unnerved, I stuck to the path, focusing on looking around
without leaving it. I called out for chips every
other minute, hesitant to alert anyone, yet hopeful to spot my
dog come running towards me from somewhere in the underbrush.
No such luck. I did gain someone else's
attention though. She appeared right ahead of me,
just a few feet off to the side from the path.
An elderly woman with long Gray hair and a wrinkled face.
She was wearing a long, dirty dress that had probably been
white at one point. She stood unmoving even as I
kept approaching. I cleared my throat.
Hello. I called out, stopping in my
tracks. I didn't want to get too close
to her. She didn't answer.
Excuse me, have you seen a dog come through?
I shouted. The woman slowly started walking
towards me. Her steps were lumbering and
heavy, her head lowered, her hair fell down to cover her face
like a stringy, torn up veil. Despite her sluggish movements,
I was beginning to grow nervous. Something about the way she was
stalking towards me made me feel like I was prey about to be
lunged at. Not wanting to show my fear, I
cautiously backed away. Don't come any closer.
I told her in the most commanding voice I could muster.
I reached into my pocket, fumbling for the small can of
pepper spray. I had no idea if I'd be able to
defend myself with it at all, but I figured it'd be better
than nothing. Please, I said.
I'm not here to hurt you. The old woman extended her hand
to touch my face. Her nails were long, sharp, and
cracked. They looked almost like claws.
I didn't dare to move when she ran them through my hair, her
dull eyes staring into mine. I held my breath.
What was I supposed to do, shove her away?
I didn't want to risk provoking her.
Then suddenly, she grasped for my throat.
I was just fast enough to duck and avoid her twisted, Bony
fingers. I dashed forward and took off
running, my feet drumming on the soft dirt ground.
I blindly raced ahead. I felt the can of pepper spray
fall out of my open pocket, but I didn't stop to pick it up.
Risking a glance over my shoulder, I saw her lumbering
after me. She was not very fast though,
and I noticed she never once set foot on the path.
It was like she needed to stay off it for some reason.
Still, that didn't mean she couldn't hurt me.
There was a low thud behind me. I staggered to a halt and turned
to find that the old woman was lying on the ground next to her,
a small rock. It must have hit her on the
head. It had obviously caused her to
tumble. Despite that, she was already
pulling herself back up, and I took off down the trail again.
At least this would help me lose her.
I kept running until my sides were burning with pain and the
sweat from my forehead was dripping down my neck.
It was only when I was absolutely sure she wasn't
behind me anymore that I finally slowed down.
I dropped to my knees. My throat was sore and dry.
Taking deep breaths, I sucked in the cool, fresh air.
I was quietly muttering phrases of reassurance to myself mixed
with the occasional swear word. Suddenly, I heard someone clear
their throat. I spun around, only to find the
man in the white shirt from before standing behind me.
He looked rather pleased with himself.
Did you throw that rock? I did, thank you so much.
I. He silenced me with a dismissive
wave of his hand, but he was smiling still.
I bet she's more like what you were expecting to see here.
He laughed and shook his head. Look, I don't really get why
you're chasing after that mutt, but for what it's worth, I'm
sure it's going to be interesting to watch.
If you'll allow it, I'd like to come along.
That'd be mutually beneficial, right?
I'm not saying I'll carry you around or anything, but I'd make
myself useful. Help you out a bit.
He drew out his words, leaving them to linger in the air.
I didn't need to think about the offer very long.
Yes, please. He allowed his smile to widen,
looking excited as he wiped his hands on his pants.
This should be fun. Plenty, I muttered.
Hey, I know real names are taboo, but about that.
I overheard two kids walk along the tree line talking a while
ago. One was telling the story about
someone named Tam Lin. It's too long to tell you all
about it. He almost sounded embarrassed,
but I liked the story. So that's what I'd like for you
to call me Tam Lin. Tam Lin saved me the effort of
making up a name of my own, seeing as he simply began
calling me Janet. I had little say in it, but I
figured complaining wouldn't help.
Who was that woman? What did she want?
I eventually asked him. We had been walking for a while,
me on the path and him beside it.
Who can say? I don't know her personally,
We're not like one big family here, He began.
Maybe she wanted to eat you, or maybe she was lonely and wanted
company but didn't know how to go about it.
Are there more like her? Yes, there's always more.
On the plus side, it's rare to come across the aggressive ones.
I don't even know what she was doing so close to the path.
The likes of her usually stay in hiding.
Right, The path. Why don't you walk on it?
Because your people put it there.
He replied, seemingly thinking this a valid explanation.
It's not our ground to tread on. Tam wasn't uncommunicative.
He asked me a lot of things about myself, my everyday life,
and even my dog. I tried to tell him as much as I
could without giving anything away that I shouldn't.
He didn't like talking about the woods, though, and I suspected
he was tired of the topic. It would turn out he was quite
the skilled guide. Sometimes we'd hear odd noises
ahead, like shouting or chanting, and he'd make us stay
in place until they'd faded into the distance.
He could sense when there was somebody ahead we needed to be
wary of and told me when it was safe to call for chips and when
to stay silent. Tam himself would occasionally
stray from my side and go deeper into the woods in search of the
dog so I wouldn't have to leave the path.
I watched the sunset through the canopy of leaves above.
We hadn't come across anyone else, and there was no trace of
chips. I was tired and my feet were
starting to hurt. I couldn't believe that the
woods were too big to comb through in an entire day.
I had never imagined them to be this huge.
I thought about calling my parents, but not wanting to
worry them, I decided against it.
I lived next door to them, in a much tinier house that also
belonged to us. They wouldn't notice my absence
for the time being. The forest floor was soft, but
still quite unpleasant to sleep on.
Tam was obviously completely unfazed by the prospect of
resting on the bare ground, but he didn't give me grief for
being squeamish. The uncomfort was one thing, but
what was worse was that I felt utterly exposed.
I spent the night wide awake, restless and afraid.
Nothing happened, though. When Tam woke up, it was still
dark. There was no reason to keep
lying around, so we moved on. I saw the sunrise overhead.
We kept calling out for chips, but still came up with nothing.
Remembering what Duncan had said about the more dangerous
inhabitants of the woods living further in the back, I asked Tam
if it was true. I guess, he replied curtly.
It made me think I wasn't feeling well and there was no
trace of chips. The further we'd go in, the more
threats there'd be on the way. Was my dog even alive anymore?
Maybe, I thought, just maybe it'd be better for me to simply
go back. I'm pretty sure Tam knew what I
was thinking. He did his best to encourage me,
probably afraid to lose his temporary source of
entertainment this early on. Hey, you can do this.
I'll keep you safe, OK? Do you need anything?
I know where to get you food and water, if that's what you want.
Water. I had all but forgotten about
how thirsty I was. Duncan had told me not to eat or
drink here, but he'd also said that if I had to, I could.
What other solution was there anyways?
Tam assured me that the water was clean and safe to consume.
He said he'd fetch it from a nearby Creek.
He offered to take me with him, but I told him I'd rather stay
on the path otherwise we'd end up lost.
A lump in my throat, I watched him walk off.
I wasn't thrilled about being on my own, but I knew I was safe on
the path. I tried to curl up in the middle
of it, hoping to hide myself or at least keep my head low.
I felt like an idiot, and it wasn't too effective either.
My stomach dropped when I suddenly heard multiple sets of
footsteps up ahead. The unmistakable crunching of
leaves and snapping of twigs came closer and closer, and I
nervously stared off into the direction they were coming from.
Soon enough, I spotted 4 figures appearing from behind a bunch of
hedges. Noticing they were drawing
closer, I staggered to my feet. It looked to be three women and
a man, all of them dressed in rags rather than actual
clothing. Carefully staying beside the
trail, they slowly walked up to me.
The one that came closest first was one of the women.
She was tall, almost unnaturally so.
Her hair was tousled and reached all the way down to her hip.
Her face was covered in a mix of scars and slowly healing open
wounds, as though something or someone had scratched and cut it
up. The skin around the cuts was
frayed and dirty. Hello.
Her tone was almost cordial, but there was something about her
voice that threw me off. It didn't sound as though speech
came naturally to her, more like she was mimicking a noise she'd
heard before without understanding the meaning of the
word. It was simply off.
I returned her greeting, eyes downcast as the other three
stepped up to me as well. Are you here on your own?
The woman asked. No, I have someone with me,
he'll be back soon. Ah, where did he go?
She didn't sound like she believed me To get water.
I muttered. So he's from the woods?
Yes. I finally dared to meet her
gaze. Her eyes were too wide to look
normal. I toyed with the idea of asking
her about chips and eventually pressed out the question,
shifting my weight from 1 foot to another uncomfortably.
That dog is yours. Oh, I've seen it.
Quiet chuckles rippled through the small group as they
exchanged knowing glances. I can show you where, but you'd
have to come with us, obviously. She regarded me with a half
smile. I doubted she actually expected
me to agree. I would have had to be pretty
stupid to do so. Get back.
I told her firmly as she leaned in to sniff my shoulder.
She straightened up again, then one of her companions reached
out and before I knew it she had pushed me and I staggered,
landing on my behind on the ground beside the path.
Before I could get up again the tall woman grabbed me by the
back of my neck and lifted me to my feet.
See, now we're on the same page. Not that bad is it?
She hissed softly, that alligator like smirk still on
her chapped thin lips. Let go of me.
I growled, suppressing the fear in my voice as I struggled and
eventually managed to tear out of her grasp, her nails leaving
painful marks on my skin. I couldn't get back on the path
in time though, as the man from the group had moved in front of
me, blocking it off. I stumbled away from him and the
tall lady, while the other two quickly stepped over the trail
to join us on our side. It's been a while since I last
talked to one of your people. The giant woman said, slowly
proceeding towards me. See my face?
She went on, tilting her head. That was one of you guys.
Now, I doubt there's any relation between you and him,
but I'm sure you understand my wish to compensate.
I didn't care to find out how exactly she wanted to do that.
I hastily took off in the opposite direction, praying the
head start would allow me to shake them off.
I could already hear them starting to run after me.
In between gasps for air, I screamed for Tam Lynn in the
vain hope that he was somewhere nearby.
I tried to keep my pace, chasing off birds and critters alike as
my leap slowly turned into lumbering, faltering hops like a
pack of wolves. The group was still on my heels,
and they were catching up, tiring me out.
Looking over my shoulder I saw the tall woman leading her
hunting party, a triumphant leer already on her face, when all of
a sudden a figure burst out from the underbrush and lunged at her
from the side. The lady was too surprised to
react and before I could blink the other person had thrown her
to the ground. I could see them clearly now,
and my chest grew light with relief when I recognized Tam
Lynn crouching on the larger woman's chest.
He dug his fingers into her face, grabbing onto the flayed
edges of her wounded skin and starting to pull.
Her scream was blood curdling and ear piercing wail of agony.
Her three companions had stopped in their tracks, staring at the
scene in shock but not doing anything to stop it.
After just a few seconds, Tam got up in his hand, a small red
patch of torn skin, which he dropped to the ground as he
backed off. What followed was an awkward
display. The woman staggered to her feet
as we stood and stared. The pack looked back at us in
stunned silence. They were first to turn and
leave though, and it was only when we couldn't see them any
more that I dared to turn and face Tam Lynn.
You left the path. He said, sounding soberly
astounded rather than angry. I couldn't speak, my throat sore
from all the screaming. Still close to tears, I nodded
quietly. Tam swallowed.
He looked uneasy, but managed to give me a smile.
It's OK, we'll find it again. We'll just, we need to get you
water first. Anyways.
I found the Creek. It's just a little bit ahead.
Let's go there first and then we'll look for the trail.
I nodded again, following him once more as he led me through
the trampled down bushes he'd emerged from.
The Creek was nice and clear, completely undisturbed in its
route through the forest. I didn't bother looking for any
sort of cup, I simply dropped to my knees and began to shovel the
water into my mouth with both hands.
Before long, I dipped my head into it, greedily sucking it up
as Tam stood and watched. Once I was full, I let out a
deep, content sigh and plopped down in the tall grass.
I had forgotten how thirsty I'd been this whole time.
We stayed for only a few minutes before making our way back to
the path, and that's when disaster struck.
There's no way to talk around it.
We couldn't find it anymore. We searched all of the
surrounding terrain, trying to spot it in the thicket, but to
no avail. By the time the sunset, I was
starting to panic. I took out my phone, hoping to
find a map of this place and perhaps call my parents, only to
find that the battery had died. It was completely useless.
Night fell and we had to stop and get some rest.
Then sunrise came again and we moved on.
This cycle would repeat itself four times before I lost hope.
I still remember the exact moment I realized it was futile.
There was no way out anymore. The woods had swallowed it.
I was trapped. It took me a long time to accept
my fate. I cried for two entire days.
Tam Lynn tried to console me, but despite his good intentions,
he failed. I'd never see my parents again.
I'd never find myself in the comforts of my home.
After these two days, however, things changed.
I grew melancholy, then oddly content.
The woods have an eerily soothing effect on those that it
captures. That's the only way I can
explain it. I kept looking for chips, hoping
to at least reunite with her one day.
We asked everyone we met on our journeys through these endless
woods. That's another weird thing.
It didn't feel like I was an outsider anymore.
The tribespeople, however bizarre and intimidating they'd
seem, would treat me as one of their own.
I wasn't being hunted anymore. I got used to sleeping on the
cold ground. I even began to appreciate it
whenever I'd rest my head on it. I felt as though I was listening
to the earth's heartbeat. Tam, Lynn and I would sleep side
by side like we had during my first night here.
Then we moved closer to one another, then even closer still.
I became accustomed to the warmth of his breath on my neck.
It was a soft, comforting feeling him holding my hand and
pressing his cheek to mine. One day he uttered his true name
to me, and I told him my own. I would rarely feel hunger or
thirst anymore, and on the few occasions that I did, the woods
would feed me. I think I must have forgotten
why I'd gone down that path in the 1st place.
I forgot who I was and what life outside had been like.
I even forgot about chips. I kept on counting the days
though, even though I'd forgotten why. 988 That's how
many sunrises passed until the day I woke up to barking.
I hadn't heard any sounds like it in so long I couldn't even
place it at first, My eyes adjusting to the bright
sunlight, I could make out something large and dark right
above me. When it came down to touch my
face, I found it to be wet and warm, a snout.
By the time a large pink tongue came out of it and started to
lick the length of my cheek, I was certain.
And then it all came back to me. It was my sweet giant puppy.
Her collar was still around her neck, the leash attached to a
dirty and caked with mud as it had been dragging behind her all
this time. I stared at her for a minute
straight before I dared to reach out and touch her, afraid I
would find her to be an illusion or some sort of fever dream.
My hands met with matted fur and warm skin underneath.
I grabbed her, pulled her onto my lap and hugged her tightly.
I couldn't believe it. All memory of her had been
erased from my mind. For all I knew, she could have
died in those woods months ago, but there she was.
Tam looked on in disbelief. Chips began to hop around,
looking excited. She ran ahead for a bit and then
returned, almost like she wanted to show me something.
I rushed after her and Tam followed.
Chips LED us through the tall grass and hedges in a weird,
bendy route that made me wonder where we were going to end up.
We wandered around for almost an entire day before finding
ourselves in a spot that looked faintly familiar to me.
It's hard to remember details of a place where there is nothing
but greenery, but I knew I'd been there before.
And then I saw it. The narrow little dirt path.
I was going to get home. After all this time, I hadn't
even thought of it as possible. My desire to return to my former
life was greater than ever, and I was finally hopeful again.
I picked up Chip's leash and grabbed Tam by the hand,
dragging him along with me as I took up running.
I didn't stop, not even when I was starting to get tired.
Finally, I saw light up ahead, brighter than the sunlight I'd
seen filtered through the leaves.
It was the end of the path, the exit.
I slowed down, my breathing ragged and strained.
Chips nudged my arm with her head, and I turned to look back
at Tam. So you're leaving?
He said honestly. I didn't think you would ever.
Me neither, I admitted. I squeezed his hand before
letting go of it. He nodded slowly and reached up
to scratch the back of his neck. I won't lie, with you gone,
there's no reason for me to stay any longer either.
He muttered. I thought you'd stay here with
me. See, I was happy when we were
all by ourselves. I could have left already when
you told me your name, but I didn't want to.
I. Well, it doesn't matter any
more, does it? I stared at him with wide eyes,
unable to comprehend what he was saying.
He just smiled, walking ahead of me towards the exit.
It was only then that I noticed he was walking on the path, just
like me. He'd been right behind me this
entire time, and I hadn't even realized it.
Now standing by the edge of the forest, Tam motioned for me to
follow. Still utterly confused, I
hurried to join him. When we stepped outside the
woods, the light was almost blinding.
I blinked, but Tam stared up at the bright sky, completely
unfazed. It feels so different here.
He breathed lightly kicking the ground with his boot.
It's not like I imagined, but it's nice.
He turned to me with a curious expression.
Is it the way you remembered? I was too stunned to say a word.
Tam tilted his head at me. You don't have to look so
shocked. It was you who told me your
name. That meant a lot to me.
It still does, knowing the name of one of your people.
It makes U.S. special. It means we can tread on your
ground, that we can leave. Not my original goal.
I just wanted your company. Before all this, I'd see you
every time you walked by the woods with that dog.
I was always watching and I kept wondering what you were like.
I made-up my little plan and it worked, as you can see.
He let out a soft chuckle. I told you some of us are
lonely, so I wasn't completely dishonest with you.
I even said that pets don't run off there for no reason.
Frowning, he added. I don't know how Chips found you
again. I thought I'd lured her deep
enough into the forest for her to never get back, especially
with her little doggy brain. It took me a little while to
regain my ability to speak. You can't be serious.
I figured this would come as a surprise.
I was never obvious about it. That's why I didn't come along
with you right away either. He gave me an almost sad smile.
Honestly, I feel bad about it, I really do.
I know how much you wanted to go home.
I was never going to use force to keep you in there.
I just kept leading you away from the path once I got the
chance. I messed with your head a
little, didn't let you see your way home, but it was the woods
influence too. What?
You said you could check the date on your phone.
We're outside, it'll work now. Check.
I reached into my pocket, fumbling for my cell phone, only
to find that I could actually turn it on.
It was extremely low on battery, but it worked.
A look at the date told me that exactly 3 days had passed since
I'd last looked at it. That's impossible.
I breathed how I counted the days.
That's not my doing. It's the woods.
They can make you think a few hours or months and that a week
is an eternity. Humans come and go and all
experience that effect. My head swam and there was an
odd ringing in my ears. I felt like I was going to pass
out, and you're letting me go. It was difficult finding and
forming those words, but I forced them through my trembling
lips nonetheless. What else am I supposed to do?
I don't want to hurt you. I'm just going to see what this
side of the world has to offer. It wasn't my initial plan, but I
guess it could be worse. At least it's a change.
Do you know how boring it is to stay in the same place for
decades? Centuries?
We've been there for so long. No wonder some of us have gone
insane over time. And when you're in there, you
keep seeing the ones outside you people, and, well, you never
think you're going to get out until you do, I guess.
I stared at him with wide, incredulous eyes, my mouth
agape. Tam Lynn took my hand again,
seemingly trying to look encouraging.
I would have pulled away had it not been for me being frozen in
place. I'm going to be good, I promise.
He said softly and almost childlike Glee in his gaze.
I won't hurt anybody here. I'll make myself fit in just
fine. Besides, things worked out for
the one you call Duncan as well. I felt the first prickling of
unease the moment we stepped off the gravel parking lot and onto
the dirt trail. The late afternoon sun was still
filtering through the canopy, painting golden patches on the
ground, but something about the forest was off.
I couldn't put my finger on it at first.
Maybe it was the silence. Usually birds chattered away
overhead and you'd hear squirrels scurrying around in
the underbrush. But that day I could have sworn
the woods were watching us, The four of us.
Myself, Brandon, Mark, and Danielle had hiked these trails
before, usually without incident.
This time, we plan to reach Clark's summit before dusk and
camp there. It was a trip we'd done a few
times over the years, familiar enough to feel safe but remote
enough to get that hit of adventure.
But the further we walked, the more anxious I became.
Even the air felt strange, cooler than it should have been
for early evening, and with a stillness that made every
snapped twig under our boots echo like a gunshot.
Everything OK? Brandon asked, noticing me slow
down. He was always the calm one.
I gave him a nod, but the knot in my gut tightened.
I couldn't quite shake the sense of being observed.
I'm good. I lied, picking up my pace.
We continued on, following the dusty path that weaved between
ancient trees and scattered boulders.
I listened intently for birds, insects, anything.
The wind only sighed through the branches like 1/2 hearted
whisper. The rest of the world felt
muted. Danielle, who walked at the head
of the group, kept looking over her shoulder.
I assumed she felt that same prickle of unease that I did.
After about half an hour, the summit sign came into view
through the thinning trees. Relief washed over me.
Nothing had actually happened, I told myself.
I was letting my imagination run wild.
Brandon and Mark chatted about what they'd brought for dinner,
teasing each other about who was carrying the heavier pack.
It almost felt normal again. Then Danielle froze mid step.
She held up a hand for silence, tilting her head to one side as
if listening for something. I strained my ears, picking up
only the faint rustle of leaves and my own steady breath.
Did you hear that? She whispered.
Hear what? Mark asked.
He sounded more annoyed than concerned.
A woman, she said. She was calling for help.
I listened harder, but the woods offered nothing.
I could see from Brandon's and Mark's expressions that they
heard it too, or were at least trying.
We all stood perfectly still, the forest unbelievably quiet,
as if it had taken a deep breath and was holding it.
Danielle's face fell. Seriously, she was saying.
Please help me. You really don't hear that?
An uneasy look passed between Mark and me.
We'd all heard weird sounds in the forest before, snapping
branches and echo here or there, but nothing like that.
The fact that only Danielle had heard it raised the hair on the
back of my neck. I don't hear anything, Brandon
said gently. But if you did, we need to check
it out. Could be a hiker in trouble.
My stomach churned. We were losing daylight.
I cast a nervous glance at the western sky, now streaked with
oranges and Reds. Part of me wanted to keep going,
to reach our planned campsite before the mountain breeze
turned cold and the forest turned dark, But ignoring
someone who might be hurt felt wrong.
We turned off the main trail. Within moments, I was regretting
it. The trees grew denser, their
branches woven together like skeletal fingers trying to snare
our packs. The ground became uneven.
Thick roots and random rocks kept snagging our boots.
I glanced back repeatedly, expecting to see the trail right
behind us, but it was nowhere. Insight.
Only a few 100 meters in, and an odd disorientation settled over
me. The air felt thicker, my head
started pounding with a dull ache.
This is so strange, I thought. We're not that far from the
path, but every time I looked around, the angles of the trees
seemed to shift, as if they were nudging us deeper into the
shadows. I don't like this, Mark
muttered, scratching at the back of his neck.
Feels like we're walking in circles.
It's just over here. Danielle insisted, her voice
tight. I swear I hurt her again.
I swallowed back a growing panic.
No matter how logical I tried to be, I couldn't shake the
impression that we weren't alone, that the forest itself
was guiding us, or maybe misguiding us.
Just a branch snapping somewhere behind me made my blood run
cold. I spun around with my
flashlight, half expecting someone, something, to be
peering at us through the black silhouettes of the trees.
Nothing. There was just us and an endless
expanse of tall trees. We'd only been off the trail for
15 or 20 minutes, but it felt like hours.
My heart thudded in my chest as dusk began to cling to the
trunks, stretching shadows across the ground.
And then it happened again. Danielle whipped her head toward
the darkest patch of woods. Did you hear that?
She whispered. This time she sounded more
alarmed. She's crying really close.
My hands felt clammy. I heard absolutely nothing but
my own pulse pounding in my ears.
An urgent voice in the back of my mind told me to turn around,
run back, and never look behind me.
But fear and curiosity locked me in place.
Brandon and Mark exchanged worried glances, and I realized
we were all silently asking each other the same question.
If there's someone out here, why can't we hear her too?
I forced myself to speak. We can't go much farther in the
dark. Let's, let's figure out where we
are first, then decide. But as the last sliver of the
sun dipped behind the Ridge, swallowing the forest and
creeping shadows, a cold realization sank in.
We were off the trail, disoriented, and something,
someone, had lured us here. Whether it was just our
imaginations or some stranger calling for help, I couldn't
say. All I knew was that my heartbeat
refused to slow down, and every single sound, or lack thereof,
was sending a jolt of raw dread through me, and I had the sudden
terrible feeling that this was only the beginning.
I don't think I realized just how hopelessly turned around we
were until the sky bled from dusky purple into an inky black.
Despite the fact that we'd only ventured a short way off the
main path, there was no sign of it now.
The forest pressed in on us from all sides, the darkness wrapping
around tree trunks and low hanging branches like a thick
veil. My flashlights beam cut through
only a narrow cone of visibility, revealing more of
the same indistinguishable trees and twisted undergrowth.
My head felt fuzzy, a dull throbbing behind my eyes.
When I mentioned I was feeling light headed, Mark admitted he
was experiencing the same thing, followed by Brandon's uneasy
confession that he was getting a weird pressure in his ears.
It was as though the forest itself, this particular pocket
of it, had shifted into some unnatural state, making us lose
our sense of direction. And then there was Danielle, who
insisted she still heard that woman's voice.
Where is she now? Brandon asked her quietly.
The tension in his face was obvious even in the dim glow of
our flashlights. Danielle swallowed, pointing
somewhere into the thick darkness.
Closer, I think, she muttered, But I can't tell.
It's like she's moving around us.
Her words flicked a spark of genuine fear through my stomach.
Something about this whole scenario felt predatory.
The idea that a wounded woman might be stumbling around out
here was horrifying, but part of me suspected a more sinister
explanation, like that voice was meant to lure us.
None of us wanted to say it aloud.
It sounded crazy. Yet the hair prickled on my arms
every time Danielle insisted she heard someone crying.
Eventually, we accepted that wandering in circles after
nightfall was going to do us more harm than good.
The only way we'd get out of here safely was by hunkering
down until morning. So we found a small, relatively
clear spot ringed by massive trees, and we dropped our packs.
Even with flashlights, setting up tents was a madding exercise.
The ground was uneven, and the silence made our soft curses
sound like screams. The snapping of a single twig
felt explosive in the hush. Once the tents were up, we
gathered around, breathing hard as if we just run miles.
My throat felt dry. The air tasted stale.
For a few moments, none of us spoke.
It was as if the darkness around us pressed inward.
My pulse hammered in my ears, each beat a reminder that we had
no idea what was out here with us.
No insects, no wind, I realized with a chill.
In all my years of camping and backpacking, I'd never
experienced such dead stillness in the woods.
Even the faintest night time creatures, crickets, frogs, were
absent. It made me think of the moment
right before a predator pounces, that hush of anticipation.
I glanced at Danielle. Her eyes were wide, shining with
reflected flashlight beams. Then I felt it.
A subtle tremor in the ground, or maybe just a rustle from
above. I lifted my flashlight and
that's when I saw movement in a towering trees about 20 feet
away. Initially, it was nothing more
than a slight vibration in the branches, like something was
climbing. I expected to see an animal,
maybe a raccoon or a large owl. Instead, I saw nothing.
Nothing but leaves and bark shifting as if molded around an
invisible shape. I narrowed my eyes, trying to
focus. My headlamp flickered and caught
a glimpse of something perched on a thick branch, maybe 50 feet
above us. At first, I thought it was an
illusion, like a distortion in the air, a shimmer reminiscent
of hot asphalt in the summer. But the longer I looked, the
more that shimmer took a vague humanoid outline.
What? The mark whispered, stepping up
beside me. His voice shook.
He raised his own flashlight, steadying it against his chest.
We both stared. The thing was definitely there,
occupying space, but see through.
Every time it moved even slightly, the leaves behind it
seemed to ripple, as though a bubble of refracted light
outlined its form. Guys.
Danielle's voice was trembling. What is that?
Brandon tried to play it off. Maybe it's an optical illusion,
but he didn't sound convinced. None of us were.
My pulse thrumbed in my throat as we stood in a tight cluster,
beams of light wavering with our trembling hands. 10 seconds
passed, then 20. Nobody spoke.
My breathing speed up, and I realized that we'd been so
fixated on this entity in the tree that we hadn't noticed
something else. The woman's voice was gone.
Danielle hadn't mentioned hearing it again.
And that quiet, that terrible, oppressive quiet, blanketed the
woods once more. For a moment, I swore the
thing's head, or what I assumed was its head, tilted down toward
us, as if it was regarding us. Curiously, my skin prickled from
scalp to toes. I'd never seen anything like it.
It clung to the tree with spindly limbs, entirely
transparent yet definitely real. There was no doubt in my mind
that it was aware of us watching us.
We should, I started to say, but my voice cut out when the figure
moved, shifting its grip on the branch.
The sound was barely more than a soft scrape of bark.
That was enough for my fight or flight instinct to kick in.
My feet almost took a step backward before I forced myself
to stay put. I wanted to run or hide, but I
sensed that any sudden movement might break the tense standoff
we'd unknowingly entered. Time felt liquid, like it was
slipping through my fingers. We stood there for what felt
like an eternity, locked in a silent battle of nerve with this
shimmering, half invisible being.
At some point, Brandon whispered, should we do
something? And I had no idea how to answer.
Then, as if it had grown bored of us, the outline began to
climb higher. Its limbs moved smoothly,
inhumanly fluid, like it was gliding up the tree trunk.
The branches shuffled, dropping a few pine needles that cascaded
silently through the beam of my flashlight.
I craned my neck, straining to keep it insight.
But it disappeared into the thicker tangle of upper
branches. I tried to follow it with my
light, but the gloom was too impenetrable.
A new kind of dread seeped into my bones.
We could no longer see it, but that didn't mean it was gone.
It could be perched above us, or moving to another tree, or even
descending on the opposite side of the trunk, where we'd never
notice until it was too late. I swallowed hard, trying to
think clearly through the hammering of my heart.
This is insane, I thought. We're off the trail.
It's the middle of the night, and we're being watched by.
By what, exactly? Behind me, Danielle was
muttering under her breath, something like she was crying
now. Nothing.
Overhead, the tree branches swayed as though touched by a
breeze. We couldn't feel everyone calm
down. I said, forcing each word out.
We need to stay together. Though my voice shook, it was
the best I could manage. An unnatural hush spread again,
broken only by the sound of Mark's unsteady breathing beside
me. I felt almost certain something
was up there, still, lingering just out of sight.
We stood huddled close, weapons of cheap flashlights clutched
like life lines. My skin crawled with every
second that passed, convinced that at any moment we'd see that
shimmering form descending the trunk, arms outstretched.
But the minutes stretched on and nothing happened.
Finally, Brandon took a step back, giving me a look that said
everything. We can't stay under this tree.
None of us wanted to camp right there with the possibility of
that thing lurking just above. I wrestled with a wave of
dizziness as I gathered my pack, my breath coming in shallow
gasps. This was supposed to be a simple
hiking trip, not a nightmare. My thoughts spiralled trying to
piece it all together. The woman's voice that only
Danielle heard, our sudden disorientation, this predatory
silence, and now a transparent humanoid shape clinging to a
tree. None of it made sense, but we'd
soon find out just how far from normal things could go.
Despite the fact that we were exhausted and rattled, we had
only one choice. To move, getting away from this
spot, or at least finding some angle where we could see if the
creature tried to follow. Heart pounding in my ears, I
turned to my friends. Let's go.
I whispered, and with the tents half packed and our nerves
completely shot, we plunged back into the oppressive darkness,
guided by the faint light of the moon and a single, desperate
hope that we could outrun whatever was stalking us in
those trees. I could still taste fear in the
back of my throat when we set off again, gear half stuffed
into our packs and nerves wound tight as violin strings, none of
us said much. It felt dangerous to speak, like
sound itself was an invitation for whatever dwelled in these
woods to come closer. The moon was high, spilling weak
silver light through the trees, but it was nowhere near bright
enough to cut the suffocating darkness all around.
We stumbled through the undergrowth, stumbling over
knobby roots and tangling branches.
Every few steps I found myself jerking my head up to search the
treetops. My flashlight beam bobbed over
shadows and twisted limbs, searching for that warped
shimmer that haunted us, but the branches revealed nothing except
feathery pine needles glowing faintly under moonlight.
Easy. Brandon whispered behind me.
When I nearly tripped for the third time, he gently caught my
arm and steadied me. His face in the faint glow was
drawn, eyes darting to every rustle.
The quiet was still wrong. No insects, no wind.
Like the forest held its breath, listening just ahead.
Danielle had her hand to her ear as if straining to pick up that
impossible voice again. My heart panged at the thought.
What if she heard it right now? Would we follow or would we run?
I couldn't decide which possibility terrified me more.
Mark hissed under his breath and abruptly stopped.
We all nearly collided into him. He brought a finger to his lips,
motioning for silence, and stared off to our left.
My flashlight trembled in my grip as I followed his gaze.
For a moment, I thought I saw it, the faintest ripple in the
air. But a cloud slid over the moon,
snuffing out any light we had, and the moment died, leaving
only the after image of a possible silhouette burned into
my imagination. What is that?
Danielle murmured, voice shaky. Mark didn't answer.
He just gave a stiff shake of his head, as if to say keep
moving. I realized he was sweating, even
though the night air was downright chilly.
We all were. There was something intensely
claustrophobic about these woods now, as though the darkness
pressed in on our lungs. We trekked onward with no clue
if we were heading deeper into the forest or back toward the
trail. Time became elastic, stretching
out in a series of panicked footfalls and hammering
heartbeats. Once or twice, someone's
flashlight swept over something that might have been eye shine
among the branches, tiny pinpoints of reflection, but it
vanished almost instantly, leaving us rattled and
breathless. Does anyone else feel like the
ground is shifting? I asked after I'd stumbled yet
again. My dizziness, that sense of the
forest tilting beneath my feet, intensified with every step.
Danielle just nodded, biting her lip.
Her eyes looked glassy, and I wondered if she might faint.
At one point, Brandon reached for her shoulder and she
flinched violently, a strangled gasp escaping her.
It was as if she expected something else, something more
malevolent to brush her skin. The moon reemerged from behind
the clouds, splashing pale light onto a slope ahead.
Pine needles gleamed like shards of glass under our boots, and
the night took on a frozen stillness so absolute that I
felt my ears ring. As soon as we started up the
slope, I noticed a break between the trees.
My breath caught in my throat. Could it be the main trail?
I shot a glance at Mark, who looked just as stunned.
Without a word, the four of us trudged up the incline, hearts
pounding in unison. My legs screamed in protest, but
adrenaline kept me moving. In my mind, I prayed.
Let this be the path. Let us get out of here.
I didn't dare look back for fear of seeing that shimmering figure
loping along behind us. The moment we reached the Crest,
I nearly dropped my pack in disbelief.
Right there, cutting through the forest like a pale ribbon, was
the main trail. It was unmistakable, a broad
path of packed dirt curving gently around a bend.
Relief and confusion slammed into me.
How did we get here so fast that that can't be right?
Brandon rasped, shining his flashlight around as if
searching for proof that this was a trick we've been walking
for. I don't care how.
Danielle interrupted in a low, shaking voice.
We're back, and we should keep moving.
None of us argued. Mark whispered.
Let's go. And set off down the trail at a
brisk pace. Despite the fatigue, we kept up,
driven by a primal need to put distance between ourselves and
whatever lurked in that part of the forest.
We didn't talk for a while, at least not until our footfalls
started to sound normal again, echoing lightly in the chilly
air. Eventually, the trail widened,
and I could see it clearly under the moon's glow.
Finally, I felt I could breathe. Only then did I realize how
tight my chest had been all evening, how every breath felt
borrowed. We slowed as we neared a fork in
the path, one I recognized from earlier trips.
It meant that in less than half an hour we'd be back at a small
clearing, and beyond that, maybe an hour's hike from the parking
area, home free. Except none of us felt calm.
The hairs on my arms remained rigid, and my stomach still
churned with dread. Danielle broke the silence
first. Do you guys believe me about the
voice? She asked it softly, her eyes
shining with unshed tears. Brandon sighed, shoulders
sagging. I don't know what to believe
right now. He admitted.
But I know something LED us out there, something that wanted us
off the trail. I shuddered, remembering how the
forest seemed to bend around us, how we'd become disoriented in
minutes yet had returned in mere moments.
My mind refused to make sense of it.
Was that thing in the tree an animal?
Some freak trick of light? An alien?
Or was it even real? Part of me desperately wanted to
chalk the whole ordeal up to mass hysteria, but how to
dismiss that nauseating electric hush in the woods?
Or the shape that climbed like a spider?
We shouldn't stay here. Mark muttered, glancing back at
the darkness behind us. He looked spooked in a way I'd
never seen before. We need to get out of the
forest. We pressed on.
The path was easy to navigate, but each minute felt like
stepping on thin ice, waiting for something to crack beneath
us. Every time a branch creaked in
the breeze, I thought of that shimmering figure perched
overhead, or that heartbreakingly human voice
Danielle swore she heard. I found myself gripping my
flashlight as though it were a weapon, scanning the towering
trees for the slightest ripple. Soon, a dim glow of dawn
replaced the moonlight on the horizon, turning the sky a
pallid Gray. The forest around us began to
look almost normal, just tall pine trees and brambles,
undergrowth thick with shadows. But the sense of normalcy fell
short. We all bore fresh emotional
wounds, eyes haunted by a fear we couldn't name.
When the first chirp of a bird broke that cursed silence, I
nearly jumped out of my skin. After the stifling quiet
earlier, the sudden return of natural forest sounds felt both
relieving and disconcerting. Finally, we spotted the lot
where our cars were parked, the shape of them hazy in the dawn
light. That's when we stopped for a
moment, turning back to stare at the tree line.
We were safe, presumably. The sun was coming up, and
whatever haunted that place lurked well within the depths of
the forest. Yet none of us spoke, We just
stood there, breathing in ragged gasps like fugitives who'd
narrowly escaped a predator's den.
Mark broke the silence by reaching into his pack for his
keys. Brandon cleared his throat and
asked something about double checking the gear, but his eyes
were glued to the trees. Danielle was the last to look
away. She seemed lost in thought, brow
furrowed as if trying to decipher whether the voice was
real or something else entirely. Me.
I was stuck in a loop, replaying the night, The oppressive hush,
the confusion, the shimmering shape that watched us with
silent intent. I wondered if we had almost
fallen for some gruesome trick, if that cry for help was a
baited snare. I wondered what would have
happened if we hadn't noticed that translucent figure in the
tree, or if it had decided to come down.
Eventually we piled into our vehicles.
The relief of a working engines rumble beneath me almost brought
tears to my eyes. As we drove away, I looked in
the rear view mirror at the trees receding.
A trick of the light made it seem like a faint distortion
hovered between the branches. A shape, perhaps, or just my
traumatized mind filling in the blanks.
Maybe we were just lucky, I thought, forcing my eyes back to
the road. Lucky to have escaped whatever
was out there, something that might still be waiting for the
next group of hikers to stray too far.
Or maybe it decided, for reasons unknown, to let us go.
The things I do know for sure, I'll never ignore that prickle
of dread in the woods again. And I'll never, ever follow a
voice only one person can hear. Especially not in the dead of
night in a forest that feels like it's breathing around you.
Some places are meant to be left alone, and some cries in the
dark aren't really cries for help.
Their invitations And we almost signed up for our own doom.