dontblameitonthekids

Story idea
          	The Dark Gathering of Blackwood 
          	
          	I know most of you think the woods around Blackwood Pond are just that—woods. But I swear there’s something else out there. Something wrong.
          	
          	I was out there tonight, trying to clear my head after a fight with Donna. I thought the quiet of the Maine woods would help, but instead, I found the kind of quiet that doesn’t feel right. You know, like the forest itself was holding its breath. 
          	
          	I stumbled upon a clearing, a place I’d never seen before, though I’ve been walking these woods my whole life. It wasn’t empty. There were people—women, standing in a circle, wearing dark, tattered robes. They were whispering something low and guttural, the words slipping into my ears like cold water. There was a fire in the center, but the flames were black, flickering like shadows against the dark trees.
          	
          	One of them turned to look at me, her eyes wide and glowing. I tried to move, but it felt like my feet were glued to the ground. She smiled, and I swear, her teeth were pointed, like a wolf’s. I heard something behind me, a rustling, and then a voice—soft, almost kind—whispered in my ear: "You shouldn't be here, Eddie."
          	
          	I don’t know how I got out. I just remember running, branches tearing at my face, my lungs burning. When I finally made it back to my truck, I turned around, and there they were, standing at the edge of the woods, watching me.

dontblameitonthekids

Story idea
          The Dark Gathering of Blackwood 
          
          I know most of you think the woods around Blackwood Pond are just that—woods. But I swear there’s something else out there. Something wrong.
          
          I was out there tonight, trying to clear my head after a fight with Donna. I thought the quiet of the Maine woods would help, but instead, I found the kind of quiet that doesn’t feel right. You know, like the forest itself was holding its breath. 
          
          I stumbled upon a clearing, a place I’d never seen before, though I’ve been walking these woods my whole life. It wasn’t empty. There were people—women, standing in a circle, wearing dark, tattered robes. They were whispering something low and guttural, the words slipping into my ears like cold water. There was a fire in the center, but the flames were black, flickering like shadows against the dark trees.
          
          One of them turned to look at me, her eyes wide and glowing. I tried to move, but it felt like my feet were glued to the ground. She smiled, and I swear, her teeth were pointed, like a wolf’s. I heard something behind me, a rustling, and then a voice—soft, almost kind—whispered in my ear: "You shouldn't be here, Eddie."
          
          I don’t know how I got out. I just remember running, branches tearing at my face, my lungs burning. When I finally made it back to my truck, I turned around, and there they were, standing at the edge of the woods, watching me.