THE FORGOTTEN GROVE

Seven

"And I was running far away, would I run off the world someday?
Nobody knows."
Aurora
—————————
(Runaway)

&.

In simplicity,

The sight was one to behold.

They hadn't even gotten to venture any deeper yet— it was rather cavernous than their flashlight gave credit for— it was right in front of them, open for the widened eyes, commanding and instilling fear, and shamelessly in display like a peninsula projected in the middle of a vast ocean:

A subterranean chamber— more like the devil's workshop— filled with relics and bones, confirming the grove's dark history. Goosebumps bearing little to no concern to the temperature of the underground chamber resurged in their skin many times and again.

"Are those..."

"Humans' bones and skulls." Hafsa finished.

"Holy shitty potato." Eamon's patience rate was depleting post-hastily as portrayed in his back-and-forth pacing 'round the expanse. "We're dead, we're screwed and chicken-duck dead." He said.

'Shut. Up.'

He turned around, his hand plastered on his forehead, "What?"

"What?" Hafsa matched his gaze innocently.

he poured out a derisive laugh as if to say, 'Are you fucking shitting me?' "When did you become so callous that you don't even care if we rot and die here?"

"What do you mean, I'm equally disarranged as you are right now, Eamon." Her face a pulp of confusion. She wondered where this was coming from.

Eamon snorted gruffly, "Are you?" making a show of throwing his hands up and down, "If you have nothing else to say, Hafsa, maybe don't make the situation worse by spurting rubbish and getting on my nerves. And just HUSH UP!" he didn't hold back; he threw right at her face his words like he'd been waiting a long time to say them.

Hafsa was thrown aback yet again, "What are you saying? I didn't— I've hardly said anything since—"

"You know what," he scrubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. "I'm out of here." He turns to go back.

Anger spiked through Hafsa, fast and nippy, she didn't care anymore if whatever he was on and about remained a mystery to her, she asked, "How are you even gonna do that?"

"The same way we got here. What do you even care?"

She scoffed, exasperatedly, "Be my guest."

"Yes, oh yes. Clearly, I'm the only one who cares enough to want to stay alive right now, I'm gonna do just—"

'SHUT.UP!' Hafsa might be the only other victim in the room, if not him, even so, he'd memorized her voice well enough to know she couldn't mimic a monster's voice even if she wanted to. This one was deep and every bit horror. It was a growl. one that had echoed through and had shaken the room.

Soon enough, the room erupts in hazardous ghostly whispers, shadows visible through naked eyes fleeting around the room, more growls, and screeching agonized screams.

The two had gone momentarily numb in their positions, alarmed, petrified, terror-stricken to the brim coat of their essence.

The glitching bulb abandoning the room in a living darkness, Hafsa beats on the torch to bring it back to life, but their worst nightmare already surfaced and there wasn't much she could do other than... nothing.

She became paraplegic, trembling inside out as she watched spectral figures emerge from the darkness, and reaching for her.

Suddenly, she was left with no will to escape anymore and there'd been only one mantra echoing in her mind as cold tears trailed down her cheeks, 'It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a dream.'

She hadn't realized her voice piercing through the mayhem of screams, shatters, and growls until she felt Eamon's hand grab and jerk her dormant feet back to life on a pull. "It's not a dream— let's get the hell out of here."

They raced up the long stairs, the horrific shadows hot on trial behind them. Hafsa had had enough time to collect herself through the race up and pulled her hand from Eamon's as soon as they reached the kitchen store, he was confused at first before catching on and helping her, they both willed all of their strengths pushing a worn-out cabinet full of old plates to obstruct the trapdoor.

Loud banging fills the atmosphere as they make their way back to the living room.

To their utter astonishment, the door that once had refused to budge was now staring back at them wide open.

"Let's go," Hafsa said, without wasting any more time making her way out of the wicked house.

"Where's Reynold?" her eyes widened as she realized Eamon's voice wasn't coming from near her.

"Eames!" she called reaching out for him, but it was too late. The door shut. Trapping him inside.

And as if the terror of losing her best friend—possibly forever— wasn't enough, she turned to find the forest had transformed into a nightmarish labyrinth.

'Updated— 10-06-24

For some reason, I've been struggling with wanting to update this chapter— don't know why.
But well, here it is.
I don't feel very confident, but I hope it meets your liking at least a little.

Stay beautiful ❤️'