A Foggy Forest

A foggy forest, twisted trees stretching like skeletal fingers, a decrepit sign that reads: "Abandon All Hope." The wood is silent, save for the shifting mist curling around the trunks like grasping hands. The air is thick with damp rot, the scent of earth long undisturbed.

Emily shivered at the sight of the notice, her face was pale and drenched with fear, as she pulled her jacket tighter around her. The fog and cold were really weird. She shouldn’t have wandered this deep, but curiosity had gnawed at her, pushing her past the point of reason. The stories about the forest had always seemed like local folktales, crazy warnings meant to keep children from straying too far. But now, standing here, the silence felt unnatural. Like the world itself was holding its breath.

Just then, a whisper blew into her ears. They slither through the air, too low to make out words, but familiar. A voice from the past. A lost loved one. A secret only she should know. They beckon, tugging at curiosity like a fishhook through flesh.

"Emily..."

Her breath caught in her throat as she sharply turns around to locate the voice. That voice. It sounds just like her mother. But that’s impossible. Her mother had died three years ago. And yet, the whisper carries the same warmth, the same soothing cadence she remembers from childhood bedtime stories.

"Come here, sweetheart. I’ve missed you." The voice added.

The fog thickens, shadows pooling between the trees, growing darker, deeper.

They are not men, nor beasts. They are the absence of light itself, gliding between the trees like liquid voids. No eyes, no faces, just unimaginable figures stretching unnaturally in the shifting mist. They flicker, like candle flames in a dying breeze, and yet they never vanish completely. Always at the edge of sight. Watching and waiting for you alone.

Emily takes a step back, her pulse hammering. The ground feels unsteady, her legs shaking rapidly, like the earth beneath her feet is no longer solid. She swallows hard, trying to convince herself it’s just a trick of the mist. Just her mind playing games with her in the dark, she tried to run, but to no avail.

Then she hears it, a heavy breath, too close behind her.

Spinning around, she finds nothing but the swirling fog. But she knows she’s not alone. Her skin prickles, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest. The whispers grow louder, voices layering over one another, pleading, laughing, sobbing as it grows louder. And beneath it all, a voice that is unmistakably her own, speaking words she does not remember saying.

"Help me."

A shadow detaches from the others, drifting forward, slow, deliberate. The whispers stop. Then, a single word in her voice said:

"Run."

Branches claw at her arms, snagging her clothes as she bolts through the trees. The shadows move with her, shifting like ink spilled into water, closing in, closing in. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her legs burning with effort. She stole a glance over her shoulder.

And sees them.

Hundreds of them. Silent. Flickering. Hollow. The ground beneath her vanishes. She falls, and the fog swallows the scream.