Nightmare Gallery: A Treasury of Twisted Terror Tales

The Whispering Woods

It was said that the woods behind the small town of Millstone had a voice. Stories from old-timers floated around town, warning kids not to venture too far into the dense forest, especially at night. Legend had it that the trees whispered to those who dared enter, and some who went in never came back.

Elena had grown up with these stories but never believed in them. To her, they were just another way for parents to keep their children from wandering off. Besides, she was 22 now, long past the age of being spooked by fairy tales. But something about the woods always nagged at her curiosity.

It was late October, and the nights had started getting colder. The chill in the air didn't stop Elena from taking her nightly jog, though. The path she took circled near the outskirts of the woods, its towering trees always looming just beyond the worn dirt road. Tonight, however, the forest seemed different.

The wind was still, yet there was a faint rustling coming from deep within the trees, like the distant murmur of a crowd. She paused, her heart thudding softly in her chest as she strained to hear more clearly. It was probably just the wind—or so she thought.

As she turned to continue her jog, a faint sound stopped her in her tracks.

"Elena..."

Her name. The sound was unmistakable. It was low, almost like a sigh carried on the breeze. She whipped her head around, but there was no one there.

A chill ran down her spine. Her pulse quickened, but she reasoned with herself. It had to be her imagination. The stories about the woods were getting into her head. Yet, a strange pull compelled her to step closer to the tree line.

She edged toward the trees, the tall oaks standing like ancient sentinels, their branches barely moving. There it was again—soft, whispering, unintelligible at first but unmistakable as her name echoed once more.

"Elena..."

Her breath hitched, and without thinking, she stepped into the woods.

The first few steps felt like she was walking through a curtain. The dense underbrush rustled underfoot, but the sound of her movements felt muted, distant. The air was cooler here, almost unnaturally so. The farther she walked, the louder the whispers became. They weren't coming from one direction but from everywhere at once, like the trees themselves were speaking to her.

"Elena... come closer."

She hesitated, her rational mind screaming at her to turn back, but her feet kept moving forward, almost as if they had a will of their own. She ventured deeper, the darkness growing thicker. Her flashlight flickered briefly before going out, leaving her in near-total darkness. The moonlight barely pierced through the dense canopy above, casting eerie, silver patches on the forest floor.

"Elena..."

This time, the whisper was right behind her. She spun around, expecting to see someone standing there, but there was nothing—only the oppressive quiet of the woods. She was alone. Or at least, she should have been.

Her breath quickened. It was then that she noticed the trees—how they seemed to shift ever so slightly, their branches twisting and turning, almost as though they were reaching out for her. And the whispers... they weren't just in the air. They were in her head.

"Elena... we've been waiting."

Her heart pounded as she took a step back, and then another. But her feet felt heavy, as though the ground beneath her was holding her in place. Panic surged through her as she turned to run, but no matter which direction she went, the trees seemed to close in around her, trapping her in the labyrinth of bark and shadow.

"Elena... don't go."

The voices were pleading now, urgent. They sounded almost... human. A face materialized in the bark of a tree in front of her, its hollow eyes and twisted grin sending a wave of nausea through her. She stumbled back in horror, and as she did, another face appeared in the tree beside it. And another. Dozens of faces, twisted and contorted, stretched through the bark, their mouths moving, their whispers filling her ears.

"Elena... stay with us."

She screamed and ran blindly through the forest, the whispers now deafening. No matter how fast she ran, the trees seemed to stretch endlessly before her, their branches snatching at her clothes, scratching her skin. The faces followed her, appearing in every tree she passed, their hollow eyes watching her with an eerie hunger.

"Elena... don't leave us."

Finally, she burst into a small clearing, her legs burning, her chest heaving with exhaustion. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. The whispers quieted, but the eerie silence that followed was even worse.

Then, from the edge of the clearing, a figure emerged from the trees.

At first, Elena thought it was a person, but as it stepped into the pale moonlight, she realized with horror that it wasn't. The figure was tall, unnaturally so, with long, twisted limbs that resembled the gnarled branches of the trees. Its face was a blank canvas, save for a mouth that stretched too wide, revealing rows of sharp, jagged teeth.

"Elena..." the creature rasped, its voice the same as the whispers she had heard in the woods.

She tried to move, but her body was frozen in place, paralyzed by fear. The creature reached out with one long, clawed hand, its touch icy cold as it brushed against her cheek.

"We've been waiting for you," it whispered.

With a sickening jolt, the creature's face began to change. Its blank expression morphed into something familiar—her own reflection stared back at her, grinning. The whispers flooded back into her mind, louder and more insistent than ever.

"Elena... stay with us."

And as the darkness closed in around her, she realized with a sinking dread that the voices would never stop. The forest had claimed her, just as it had claimed so many before her. Now, her face would join the others, etched into the trees, whispering for the next unlucky soul who ventured too far.

"Elena... we are one."

And then there was silence.