Untold - a series of short stories

Whispering Woods

Nestled deep within the foreboding Blackwood Forest, where colossal trees towered like ancient guardians, there stood a dilapidated log cabin. It had been forsaken for decades, its wooden structure warped and weathered by the relentless passage of time and the elements. A thick layer of moss clung to the roof, and the windows were obscured by layers of grime, imparting an unsettling aura that sent chills racing down the spines of those few brave enough to approach. The locals spoke of the cabin in hushed tones, recounting tales of its grim past—of lost souls and unspeakable terrors that lay hidden within its walls.

On a crisp autumn evening, a group of friends—Mark, Sarah, Lily, and Jake—decided to escape the hustle and bustle of city life for a weekend retreat. They had heard the tales but dismissed them as mere fabrications, designed to frighten children. With excitement bubbling within them and a hint of bravado, they navigated the winding forest roads until they arrived at the cabin, its silhouette stark against the encroaching twilight.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees, they unloaded their belongings and ventured inside the cabin. The air was thick with dust, and a musty odor clung to the corners, a haunting reminder of years gone by. Old furniture lay shrouded in dusty sheets, and a fireplace stood cold and empty, its bricks blackened from years of neglect. Mark, brushing off the unsettling atmosphere, lit a fire to stave off the growing chill. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the room, and the friends settled in with drinks and stories, seeking comfort in each other's company.

As night descended, the wind howled through the trees, weaving a mournful melody that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the forest. The group huddled closer to the fire, sharing ghost stories and laughter that echoed eerily within the cabin's walls. However, as the hours passed, the laughter became strained, replaced by an oppressive silence that wrapped around them like a heavy shroud. It was then that Sarah, peering through the grimy window, gasped in horror.

"Did you see that?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"What?" Mark inquired, turning to her with a frown.

"There's someone out there... in the woods," she replied, fear etching lines across her face.

Jake rolled his eyes dismissively. "It's just the wind playing tricks on your mind. There's no one out there."

But Sarah remained unconvinced, a gnawing sensation in her gut telling her they were not alone. As the night deepened, the air grew thick with an unsettling tension. To lighten the mood, they decided to play a game, but each laugh felt forced, as if the cabin itself absorbed their joy, replacing it with an inescapable dread.

Eventually, they retreated to their respective rooms, but sleep eluded them, the oppressive atmosphere keeping them awake. In the stillness of the night, Sarah was jolted awake by a soft rustling sound outside her window. Heart racing, she crept to the glass and peered into the inky darkness. There, illuminated by the pale light of the moon, stood a figure—a tall, gaunt man with hollow eyes that glimmered like shards of broken glass. He seemed to be staring directly at her, an unsettling gaze that pierced through the night.

Terrified, Sarah stumbled backward, her breath hitching in her throat. She needed to rouse the others. Rushing to Mark's room, she shook him awake with urgency. "Mark! There's someone outside!"

Mark squinted at her, still caught in the grasp of sleep. "You're imagining things. It's just the forest."

"No! I swear, I saw him!" she insisted, her voice rising in desperation.

With reluctance, Mark agreed to investigate. They tiptoed to the front door, and as Mark swung it open, the cold night air rushed in, chilling them to the bone. The forest lay still and silent, save for the distant rustle of leaves. "See? Nothing's out there," he said, trying to reassure her.

But Sarah couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom. As they stood on the porch, a low whisper seemed to weave through the trees—an indistinct murmur that sent shivers down their spines. "Did you hear that?" Sarah breathed, her voice trembling.

Mark nodded, unease creeping into his expression. "Let's head back inside."

They gathered in the main room, the fire crackling weakly. Shadows loomed large against the walls, and an overwhelming sense of foreboding hung in the air. Time slipped away, and just as they began to relax, a loud bang resonated through the cabin, rattling the windows. The group jumped to their feet, eyes wide in alarm.

"What was that?" Lily cried, her face drained of color.

"Probably just the wind," Jake said, but his voice lacked the confidence he tried to portray.

"Let's check the basement," Mark suggested, although the idea filled him with dread. They descended the narrow staircase into the dark, musty space, where the air was thick with the scent of mildew. A solitary bulb flickered overhead, casting a weak light over the cold concrete floor.

As they explored the basement, they stumbled upon a hidden door, its handle cold and rusty to the touch. Taking a deep breath, Mark pulled it open, revealing a cramped room filled with an unsettling air. Inside, they found old photographs—faded images of families, their faces twisted in expressions of terror. The realization struck them like a cold wave; they weren't the first to seek refuge in this forsaken place.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind them with an ominous thud. Panic surged through them as they tugged at the handle, but it remained stubbornly locked. The whispers grew louder, echoing in their ears, words they could not comprehend. The walls seemed to close in, and from the corner of the room emerged a shadowy figure.

It was the man Sarah had seen outside, his eyes void of humanity, reflecting nothing but darkness. He stepped forward, and the friends screamed, their voices merging into a haunting chorus of terror. In that harrowing moment, the cabin's true nature was revealed—a predatory trap, lying in wait for yet another group of unsuspecting souls.

The whispers crescendoed into a cacophony as darkness engulfed them. One by one, their screams faded into an eerie silence, swallowed whole by the forest. The log cabin stood unmoving, its weathered walls now bearing witness to yet another night of horror—waiting, always waiting, for the next group of friends to wander too close, lured by the false promise of a weekend escape that would never be.