Freya Nightshade has always felt a strange pull toward the forbidden forest that looms just beyond her village, but she's spent her life obeying her grandmother's warnings to stay far away. That all changes one fateful night under the Harvest Moon w...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It had been nearly two weeks since that night in the woods, but Freya still hadn't shaken the memory of the stranger. The image of his dark, piercing gaze haunted her like a dream she couldn't escape. Every time she thought about telling her grandmother, her throat tightened, and her resolve faltered. It wasn't just fear—it was uncertainty. The encounter had stirred something deep within her, something she didn't yet understand. Part of her wanted to cling to that night, to keep it hidden like a precious secret.
Standing at the edge of the village, she stared into the forest, as though the trees might somehow offer her answers if she waited long enough. The air was crisp with autumn's bite, carrying the earthy scent of fallen leaves and damp soil. Normally, she found comfort in the changing seasons, but now, everything felt different. Tense. As though the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
Over the past two weeks, the pull of the forest had only grown stronger. It whispered to her at night when she lay beneath her blankets, calling her back to its depths. Every day, the urge to return intensified, tugging at her with an almost physical force. The paths she had once walked so easily now felt charged with energy, like they were beckoning her toward some unknown destination.
I shouldn't go back, she thought, biting her lip. Not after what happened. Not after what I heard. But promises, she was learning, were difficult to keep when the forest itself seemed to be calling her name. The memory of the strange man still lingered in the back of her mind, his warning echoing through her thoughts.
"Just a quick look," she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible. Even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie. The pull was too strong to resist. She slung her satchel over her shoulder, inhaled deeply, and stepped forward onto the forest path.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The woods greeted her in silence, more oppressive than the last time she had come. Freya's boots crunched softly against the blanket of fallen leaves, but even that small sound felt too loud in the eerie stillness. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, determined not to glance into the deeper parts of the forest that had grown darker, more foreboding.
As she ventured deeper, the air seemed to thicken, pressing against her skin like invisible hands. The familiar path stretched before her, but something about it felt... altered. The trees loomed taller, their branches twisting above her like the gnarled fingers of some ancient creature. Each step made her feel more like an intruder, as though the forest itself was watching her.
A twig snapped behind her, and Freya froze, her heart skipping a beat. She turned sharply, her breath catching in her throat. There was nothing. Just shadows playing tricks on her mind. It's nothing, she told herself, trying to steady her breathing. Just the wind. But the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and deep down, she knew better. The forest was alive, and it was watching.
