Call of The Dark Woods

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it a voice. Not loud, not clear, but enough to make Emma stop in her tracks. She had grown up hearing stories about the Dark Woods, the forbidden stretch of forest just beyond the town. The elders said the trees were cursed, that they devoured anyone who dared to enter after sundown. But Emma had never believed in curses. At least, not until now.

She glanced over her shoulder, the narrow dirt path that had led her into the woods now swallowed by the creeping shadows of dusk. The silence around her was deafening, as if the forest held its breath, waiting. There was a pull, a subtle, unrelenting force drawing her deeper into the thick of it. Her heart raced, but her feet moved without her consent.

Turn back. The rational part of her mind screamed at her, but the voice — that faint, luring voice — called again, more insistent now, echoing from somewhere deep within the woods. It wasn’t a voice she recognized, but it was…familiar, like a forgotten dream clawing its way back into her memory.

The trees grew denser, their gnarled branches weaving into a canopy that blotted out the last trace of light. She felt the cold before she saw the fog, a dense, swirling mist that clung to the ground and wrapped around her legs like tendrils. The air smelled different here — damp, decaying, as if the woods themselves were rotting from within. And still, the voice called, pulling her deeper.

“Emma.”

She froze. This time it was clear. Her name. Soft, seductive, like a lover’s whisper. But it was wrong. No one knew she was here. No one should have been able to find her in this labyrinth of trees. Her pulse quickened, her breath hitching as the trees seemed to close in around her.

“Who’s there?” she called out, her voice trembling despite her best effort to stay calm. Silence. Then, a rustling, soft at first, but growing louder, like something large moving through the underbrush. The fog parted slightly, revealing a shape. A figure — pale, slender, and impossibly still — stood between the trees, just on the edge of her vision.

“Emma…”

It was closer now. The voice was soft but suffocating, as if it pressed against her from all sides. Her skin crawled, every instinct screaming for her to run, but her feet felt anchored to the earth. She could see the figure more clearly now — a woman, or at least something that looked like one. Her eyes were wide and vacant, her mouth twisted into a grin that stretched unnaturally across her face. She beckoned Emma forward with a slow, deliberate motion.

“No,” Emma whispered, finally regaining control of her legs. She stumbled backward, but the voice pierced through her thoughts, sharper, hungrier.

“Emma…come closer. I’ve been waiting.”

She turned and bolted, crashing through the trees, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The woods around her seemed to shift and twist, the trees no longer mere obstacles but sinister shapes reaching for her, their branches scratching at her skin, slowing her down. The path was gone. She was lost.

Her mind raced, each thought more frantic than the last. She had heard the stories — of those who had entered the Dark Woods and never returned, their names whispered with reverence in the town. But no one knew what really happened to them. Until now.

The voice followed her, relentless. It wasn’t just calling her anymore; it was inside her head, echoing through every thought, every breath. She could feel the pull again, stronger this time, like invisible hands tugging at her, dragging her back toward the heart of the forest.

Don’t stop. Keep running.

She pushed herself harder, the fog thickening around her, blurring her vision. But then, through the mist, she saw it — a cabin. Old and decrepit, its windows dark and hollow like eyes watching her. She hesitated for a moment but knew she had no choice. The voice was closing in, and whatever was chasing her wouldn’t stop until it had her.

She burst through the door, slamming it shut behind her, her chest heaving with exertion. Inside, the air was stifling, thick with dust and the scent of something far worse. The walls were lined with strange symbols, drawn in what looked like dried blood, and in the center of the room, a mirror. Its surface was cracked, but Emma could still make out her reflection — or at least, she thought it was her reflection.

But the face staring back at her wasn’t hers.

The figure in the mirror grinned, its smile growing wider, stretching impossibly far until it split its face. Emma stumbled back, her pulse thundering in her ears, but the figure reached out — not from the mirror, but from behind her. Cold, skeletal fingers wrapped around her shoulder, freezing her in place.

“You can’t leave,” the voice hissed, and Emma felt the cold sink deep into her bones. She turned slowly, her heart plummeting into a black void of terror.

The woman from the woods stood behind her, closer than ever. Her eyes were empty, her skin pale and translucent, as if the life had long since drained from her. But it was the smile — that same grotesque smile from the mirror — that paralyzed Emma.

“You came when I called,” the woman whispered, her breath cold against Emma’s skin. “Now you belong to the woods.”

Emma tried to scream, but the sound died in her throat. The last thing she felt was the icy grip tightening around her, pulling her down, down into the darkness, where the voice was no longer calling — but laughing.

And the woods grew silent once more.