Nightmare Gallery: A Treasury of Twisted Terror Tales

The Last Transmission

The cold blue light of the screen flickered, casting eerie shadows across the walls of the small, cluttered cabin. Mia leaned closer, squinting at the static-laden video feed from the remote surveillance camera she had set up in the woods surrounding her home. She had moved to the isolated cabin for a fresh start after a messy breakup, hoping to find peace in the tranquility of nature. Instead, she found herself entangled in a mystery that refused to let go.

The first night, she had heard rustling outside, faint whispers on the wind that felt almost alive. Thinking it was just the wind playing tricks, she brushed it off. But when she discovered that the rustling persisted every night, she decided to set up the cameras. She needed proof, something to quell the growing unease gnawing at her.

The recording showed nothing at first—just the dark expanse of the forest, the wind stirring the leaves, shadows shifting under the silver moonlight. But as the nights progressed, the atmosphere in the footage began to change. The static intensified, and she started to see flashes—brief silhouettes darting between the trees, vague outlines that flickered in and out of existence like the last remnants of a dream.

On the fourth night, she caught something that made her blood run cold. The figure stood just outside the camera's view, tall and gaunt, its limbs elongated in an unnatural way. Mia's breath caught in her throat as she replayed the footage, watching the figure shift closer to the camera. It turned its head, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a face—pale and hollow with dark, sunken eyes.

She shot upright in her chair, heart pounding. It wasn't just her imagination anymore. Something was out there.

That night, she decided to sleep with her door locked and the lights on, the flickering bulbs doing little to soothe her fraying nerves. But sleep was elusive, and she spent the hours staring at the ceiling, listening to the muted sounds of the woods.

Just before dawn, the cabin was jolted awake by a loud crash from outside. Startled, Mia scrambled out of bed, heart racing. She grabbed the flashlight from the bedside table and crept toward the door, the beam cutting through the dark like a knife. The outside world felt different, heavier, as if the very air had thickened around her.

She opened the door a crack and peered out into the inky blackness. The wind howled through the trees, a symphony of whispers spiraling around her. The cabin stood isolated, surrounded by a wall of shadows. And then she saw it—the dark figure, standing at the edge of the clearing, partially obscured by the dense trees.

Fear surged through her, but she couldn't turn back now. She took a deep breath and stepped outside, the cold air biting at her skin. The figure was still there, unmoving, as if waiting for her.

"Mia..." a voice slithered through the wind, thin and sharp. It echoed through the trees, surrounding her. "Come to me..."

Her pulse quickened as she took a hesitant step forward. "Who are you?" she called out, her voice trembling.

"Come closer..." the voice whispered again, alluring and yet filled with a sinister edge.

Mia felt an irresistible pull, a need to obey. She stepped further into the shadows, the flashlight flickering as if fighting against an unseen force. The figure remained still, but the closer she got, the more it seemed to pulse with life, like a dark heart beating in the night.

As she approached, the figure's features became clearer—its eyes were dark pools of nothingness, an empty void that drew her in. But there was something else, something familiar about its shape. Her heart raced with recognition, the cold realization striking her like a bolt of lightning.

"No... it can't be..." she breathed, stepping back.

The figure smiled, a wide grin that split its face. "You're not afraid, are you?"

The face morphed into a reflection of her own, twisted and warped but unmistakably her. Mia stumbled back, shaking her head, desperate to shake off the dread that clung to her.

"Get away from me!" she shouted, spinning on her heel to run back to the cabin. But the woods shifted around her, the shadows elongating and reaching, blocking her path.

"Stay with us, Mia," the voice purred, now echoing from every direction. "You belong here."

She ran, adrenaline surging through her veins, crashing into branches and stumbling over roots. The whispers surrounded her, growing louder, drowning out her thoughts. Panic engulfed her as she finally reached the cabin, slamming the door behind her and locking it tight.

Breathing heavily, she leaned against the door, heart pounding in her chest. The darkness outside seemed to press against the walls, and she could hear the whispering growing stronger, urging her to join them.

"Mia..." It came again, softer now, almost pleading.

"No!" she yelled back, her voice trembling. "Leave me alone!"

The whispering faded, but the oppressive silence that followed was deafening. She turned to the surveillance monitor, praying for a distraction. The screen flickered to life, the footage rolling back to the earlier night. The haunting figure was there again, but this time it was closer, so much closer, its eyes glaring through the darkness of the trees.

Mia watched in horror as the figure moved, stepping into the light, revealing a tattered version of herself. The recording captured her distorted face, grinning maliciously as it reached out a hand, as if inviting her to join.

Then the feed cut to static.

"No!" she screamed, panic flooding her veins. She pounded her fist against the monitor, but it remained lifeless, blank.

The house began to tremble as the whispers returned, enveloping her once more. They echoed through the walls, filling every corner of her mind. "Join us, Mia... join us..."

With a sudden burst of clarity, she grabbed her phone, fumbling to dial for help, but the screen flickered and went dark. The lights above her began to flicker, and she could hear the soft rustling of footsteps outside.

She ran to the windows, peering through the curtains. The figure was there, surrounding the cabin now, dozens of them, all wearing her face, their eyes hollow and hungry. They were laughing, their voices a cacophony that filled the air with dread.

Mia turned to run but stumbled, falling to the ground. As she looked up, the door burst open, and the figures flooded in, their hands reaching for her. The last thing she heard before the darkness swallowed her was a chorus of voices, all echoing her name.

"Mia... welcome home..."

The following morning, the cabin stood silent. The air was still, the whispers gone, but the surveillance footage continued to run, the screen flashing with static. A new figure appeared on the feed, standing just outside the cabin—a dark silhouette, waiting patiently.

Days turned into weeks, but the townsfolk dismissed the stories of Mia and her cabin. They said the woods were just trees and shadows. But every so often, a faint whisper would drift through the air, calling for someone else to join the lost souls of the forest.