Shadows of the Crystal Tree

Chapter One: The Strange Bags

The house was enormous, the kind of grand, old mansion with towering windows and dark, ivy-covered brick walls. As we moved in, our family—my mom Mary, stepdad Ray, our grandma Shella, and grandpa Terrance—joked about the "haunted house vibe." My brother Fox and I shared a knowing look; something about this place didn't feel right.

That night, Fox and I snuck out into the backyard, curiosity winning over the lingering unease. In the faint glow of moonlight, we noticed them: strange, sagging bags scattered across the yard. They looked like sacks filled with clothes, but each one held something heavy, round, almost like a stone or a ball weighing it down.

I shivered. "Fox... why would these be out here?"

He shrugged but kept his eyes on the bags. "Maybe they're... I don't know. Pranks?"

I shook my head. No prank would explain the eerie quiet in the air, the way the shadows seemed to stretch, reaching for us.

Then, beyond the line of trees at the edge of the property, something caught my eye—a massive, ancient tree. From where we stood, it seemed to glow with an unnatural, soft blue light. I squinted, captivated by its haunting beauty, almost forgetting about the bags.

"Daniela... look at that tree," Fox whispered, his voice tinged with awe. The tree appeared to be bleeding crystals, shimmering in the dark, each drop reflecting the moonlight in a way that felt both mesmerizing and wrong.

"Do you see that?" I whispered.

Fox nodded, wide-eyed. "It's like something out of a dream."

Then we saw him. A cloaked figure appeared from behind the tree, his silhouette blending with the shadows, but his gaze fixed on us. Fox grabbed my arm, and for a split second, we were frozen. The man took a slow step forward.

"Run!" I yanked Fox's arm, and we sprinted back to the house, our breath coming in sharp gasps. We locked the doors, peeking through the window. There was no sign of him, but neither of us spoke, our minds racing with questions too big for words.