Ethan had always loved hiking alone, especially in the deep forests of Oregon. There was something peaceful about the towering trees and the way the light filtered through the canopy. But this time, as he wandered further than ever before, the peace felt… off.
The sun had started to dip below the treetops when he first noticed them. Shadows that stretched in unnatural ways, curling toward him even though the light should have been fading in the opposite direction. At first, he thought it was a trick of the setting sun, but as he kept walking, they moved with him—too fluid, too deliberate.
Then came the whispers.
Soft, rustling voices, like the wind through dead leaves, but there was no breeze. He spun around, heart pounding, but the woods were still. Too still. Not even the usual sounds of birds or insects. Just the whispering.
He quickened his pace, trying to shake the feeling of unseen eyes watching him. But every step forward only seemed to deepen the wrongness. The trees began to feel… closer. The trail he had been following twisted in ways it shouldn’t have.
That’s when he saw the figure.
A silhouette darker than the night itself, standing between the trees, just beyond the fading light. It had no features—just a shape, a shadow that shouldn’t be standing on its own. The whispering grew louder, a chorus of unintelligible voices, wrapping around him like invisible hands.
Ethan ran.
Branches clawed at his skin as he sprinted, but no matter how fast he moved, the shadows moved faster. They stretched, coiling through the trees like tendrils of living darkness. His legs burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, but he could feel them closing in.
Then he saw it—a small clearing ahead. Moonlight spilled onto the forest floor, and he lunged toward it. The moment he crossed into the light, the whispers stopped. The shadows recoiled, retreating just beyond the edge of the clearing.
For hours, Ethan stood there, trembling, too afraid to move. The darkness beyond the trees was thick, waiting. Watching.
And then he realized—he had wandered too deep. There was no trail, no way back.
And the moon was setting.
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