The Whispers of the Forgotten.

Chapter - 1

A husband and wife, thrill-seekers at heart, decided on a whim to hike a mountain they'd heard whispers about—a place tangled with towering trees and trails that seemed to vanish into thin air. 

They set off at dawn, their breath fogging in the chilly air as they entered the forest's edge. The trees here grew so thickly that sunlight barely pierced through, casting an otherworldly, greenish glow. Everything was silent, almost unnervingly so, as if even the birds and insects were reluctant to disturb this hidden realm.

The forest was thick, the forest was thick with silence, each step the couple took swallowed by the towering trees. As they moved more deeper, they started seeing a village-like area very deep in the forest. As they agreed to explore, what they saw was alien, completely out of this world. There was a civilization completely abandoned. As they continued to explore the ruins, they found an odd-looking villa. The villa was almost hidden, tucked away in the overgrowth of an ancient forest. Its roof had long collapsed, and vines crawled up the faded stone walls, but there was something unsettling about its presence. It felt untouched by time. The husband and wife stood in the doorway, staring at the strange symbols etched into the walls, symbols that seemed to pulse with a quiet energy.

"We shouldn't be here," she whispered, but neither of them moved. The paintings on the walls drew them in—figures, robed in shadows, surrounded by twisted shapes that could almost be human.

He took a picture of the largest painting, a strange design with spiraling symbols that seemed to twist the air around it. "Just a few pictures, and we're done," he said. But deep down, he knew they'd never be done. Not after seeing this.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting eerie shadows that danced on the ground like fleeting phantoms. It was a hike meant to clear their minds, to escape the chaos of everyday life, but something tugged at the edges of their thoughts—a sense of being watched, perhaps, or simply the weight of the unknown.

"Are you sure this trail is right?" she asked, glancing at her husband, who was scanning the underbrush with growing unease. It was meant to be a simple walk, yet the deeper they ventured, the more it felt like the forest was guiding them toward a secret.

Then they saw it: an old villa, half-concealed by twisted vines and moss. Its weathered stones stood out like a forgotten monument amid the chaos of nature, beckoning them closer. As they approached, the walls loomed larger, revealing intricate paintings and strange symbols, shimmering with a faint glow in the dappled light.

"This place is... different," he murmured, captivated. She took out her camera, instinctively snapping pictures, but an uneasy feeling prickled at the back of her mind. There was something unsettling about the symbols, a whisper of secrets long buried beneath the weight of time. The air felt thicker, heavy with history, as if the walls themselves were alive, watching them with unseen eyes.

Many years had been gone since the fateful encounter of the hike, yet the memories of the ruins were still intact like a scar in the face – always making it difficult whenever you see yourself in mirrors. The echoes of the past were still haunting them, whispering the truths that they couldn't grasp.

Once the bright excitement had dulled over time from Daneal, yet he couldn't stop thinking about the strange symbols in the ruins. He still persuaded the past and was started getting very keen to know about the secrets that the ruins had hidden from them. Every spare moment was consumed by the research of the weird alien symbols, books scattered all across the house with their small study about the symbols, characters, shapes. It has become a mind game for him that he wanted to solve at all costs but every time he tried to solve it, he got stuck at his own riddles that twisted thoughts into knots.