The Forest's Secret

Act 8 | The Unravelling Mystery | Part 1

Ash managed to return to his home, his mind racing with the implications of his discoveries. He realized that the forest's secrets were much deeper than he had ever imagined. Realizing the gravity of what he'd uncovered, Ash knew he had to share his findings with Mr Tompson, but he wasn't keen on waking his teacher at 3 a.m. with a frantic tale of runes and beasts. As he snuck back inside and crept up to his room, he couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of his situation.

"Next time," he muttered to himself, "I'll just stick to late-night pizza runs. Way less terrifying." With a sigh of relief, he collapsed onto his bed.

The sun crept over the horizon, casting a soft, golden light through Ash's window. Despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs, sleep eluded him. The night's events consumed his thoughts and the strange journals he found.

He pulled himself up and out of bed as he rubbed his eyes. He could hear his mother starting the coffee machine. It sounded like bubbly water from a bubble bath going down a drain. he stumbled out of bed and made his way downstairs. He felt a mix of fatigue and adrenaline, making it hard to focus on anything other than the weight of his discoveries. the journals, the mark on his wrist, and the menacing presence of the creature—everything seemed to swirl together in a confusing haze.

He found his mother in the kitchen, already preparing breakfast. Her cheerful demeanour seemed almost jarring compared to the tumultuous night he'd just endured. "Morning, Aston," she said with a smile, her voice warm and familiar. "Did you sleep well?"

Ash forced a smile, trying to mask his exhaustion. "Yeah, I guess so. Just, you know, had a lot on my mind."

Well, you'd better eat something before you head out. Big day ahead, right?"

Ash nodded and sat at the table, but his mind was elsewhere. He picked at his breakfast, hardly tasting it as his thoughts drifted back to the cabin and the strange runes he'd discovered.

His plan to meet with Mr Tompson weighed heavily on his mind. The more he thought about the journals and their cryptic messages, the more urgent it seemed to get expert advice.

His father was already up and about, a cup of coffee in hand. The tension between them still hung in the air, though the conversation last night had helped. Ash had promised to be careful, but he knew he had to do more than just make promises. He had to act.

As he finished breakfast, Ash decided to make a quick visit to Mr. Tompson's house. He couldn't wait to seek answers.

With a determined look, Ash grabbed his backpack, making sure the journals were safely tucked inside. He quietly slipped out of the house and walked to Mr. Tompson's home, a mix of apprehension and hope driving him forward.

The sun was just starting to cast a golden light across the neighbourhood as Ash approached Mr Tompson's house. He knocked softly on the door, his heart pounding in his chest. After a few moments, the door creaked open, and Mr Tompson appeared, looking somewhat dishevelled but alert.

"Ash? What are you doing here so early?" Mr. Tompson asked, rubbing his eyes.