The night air was cool, and the soft crunch of grass underfoot was the only sound as we walked past the main cemetery. I am leading the way, my phone's flashlight casting long, jittery shadows on the overgrown path.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered suddenly, freezing in place.
I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Oi, do you know you're exactly the type of person who dies first in every horror movie?" I jabbed a finger in her direction. "The one who goes, 'What was that sound?' right before something jumps out of the bushes."
"Relax, Dumb arse," she muttered, pointing to a tree. "I meant the bird. Isn't it nice?"
I blinked, thrown off by the sudden change in tone. "Seriously? You stop in the middle of this dark, creepy forest to point out a bird?"
"Why not?" Jee shrugged with a smirk. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"Don't," I warned, pointing at her. "That's exactly the kind of thing people say right before something goes horribly wrong."
She snorted, waving me off. "You watch too many movies. We're fine. It's just a bit of grass, a dirt path, and a grave at the end of it. What could go wrong?"
I muttered under my breath, "I can think of at least ten things off the top of my head…"
The path was surprisingly neat, though the grass on either side grew wild.
"You know," she began again, her voice teasing, "if something did jump out, you'd probably push me in front of it to save yourself."
"Excuse me?" I shot her a look. "I'd do no such thing. I'm a gentleman. I'd, uh... strategically distract it while you run for help."
"Sure," she drawled sarcastically. "Classic Ashan. Heroic in theory, useless in practice."
"Hey, I resent that." I shoved my hands into my pockets, feigning indignation. "I'll have you know, I've survived plenty of life-threatening situations."
"Like what?"
"My sister's cooking."
She laughed, waving her phone's flashlight around like it was a magic wand. "You're so dramatic. It's just a grave. A lonely one, sure, but no big deal."
As we walked, the grass beneath us gave way to a narrow dirt path. It was just wide enough for a two person to walk comfortably, like it had been cleared by years of hesitant footsteps. I slowed my pace, pointing my phone's flashlight toward the narrow trail. The beam illuminated the way forward, the grass on either side towering like silent onlookers.
"So, this must be the path Iytoi talked about," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet. "We just go straight, and we'll reach the spot."
Jee nodded, stepping closer beside me, though she glanced over her shoulder more often now. "See? Nothing to worry about. Just a normal path."
I didn't respond right away. Something about the air felt heavier here, and the faint rustling from the grass sounded oddly deliberate, like someone—or something—was moving just out of sight.
Jee noticed my hesitation. "What? Don't tell me you're scared now."
"Scared? Me? No chance," I said, forcing a smirk. "I'm just... making sure we don't trip or something. Safety first."
She snorted. "Right. I'm sure that's it."
We continued down the path, our footsteps crunching against the dirt. The farther we walked, the quieter it became. Even the bird had gone silent.
Jee's flashlight flickered. "Stupid thing always does this," she muttered, before freezing mid-step. Her phone's light darted to the left, shining into the tall grass.
"What now?" I asked, annoyed but trying to mask the slight unease creeping up my spine.
"I thought I saw... never mind," she said, shaking her head quickly. "It's just the grass. Probably moved with the wind or something."
"There is no wind," I pointed out, feeling the stillness settle around us.
"Exactly my point," she said with a nervous laugh, as if joking would chase away the tension. "It's nothing. Let's keep going."
But her steps were slower now, and I noticed the way her phone's flashlight wavered more, the beam darting across every shadow like she was expecting something to leap out.
A low creak echoed faintly from somewhere ahead, like the groan of an old tree shifting under its own weight. Jee flinched and gripped her phone tighter. "Okay, that was definitely something."
"It's a forest, Jee," I said, though my voice sounded less convincing even to myself. "Branches fall, trees make noises. It's normal."
She didn't look convinced but stubbornly kept walking. "You're probably right. It's nothing. Just the usual creepy nighttime sounds."
The path began to narrow further, the overgrown grass brushing against our legs now. I caught a faint scent of something metallic—just for a second—before it disappeared. Jee must have smelled it too because she wrinkled her nose.
"Ugh, what is that? Smells like... I don't know, rust?"
"Probably the soil," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure.
She glanced at me, her brow furrowed. "Do you ever stop pretending you're not freaked out?"
"Do you ever stop imagining things?" I shot back.
We rounded a slight bend, and the trail seemed to open up. The grass grew shorter, the path clearer, as if someone had maintained it.
"There," I said, exhaling in relief as the lone grave came into view. The small clearing was empty except for the weathered stone marker standing alone at the end of the path. "We reached the spot."
Jee stopped beside me, her eyes fixed on the grave as if expecting it to move. She crossed her arms and huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Nothing to worry about."
But her voice wavered just enough to give her away.
We kept walking, but something felt off—darker, somehow. The air had thickened around us, and the chill in the wind made every step feel heavier.
We had barely moved a few paces when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Another small grave, hidden in the shadows beside the first. It was almost as if it had been waiting there, unseen until now.
"What's this?" I whispered, taking a hesitant step towards it. The stone was weathered, just like the other one, but there was something unsettling about it—its angles, the way it sat slightly tilted, as if someone had tried to push it back into place.
Jee stepped forward, squinting in the dim light. "It wasn't here before... was it?"
I glanced back at the path, suddenly aware of how quiet it had become. The rustling of the trees, the occasional breeze—everything seemed muffled, distant, like we were being swallowed up by the silence.
Then I heard it.
A faint whisper. So low it could've been the wind, but it was different, like a voice barely brushing against my ears. I paused, straining to listen. The sound came again, almost imperceptible, drifting through the air.
"Did you hear that?" I asked, my voice barely a murmur.
Jee didn't respond at first, but I could see her eyes darting around, her body stiffening, like she'd heard it too. The whispering continued, as soft as a breath, weaving between the rustling leaves.
I took another step towards the small grave. My heart was racing now, the hairs on my neck standing up as the whispers grew louder, though still too quiet to understand. It was almost as if the voices were right beside me... but when I turned, there was nothing.
"Jee?" My voice cracked, a ripple of unease spreading through me.
Without warning, she stepped closer to the second grave, her gaze fixed on it, her face pale under the dim light.
"Jee?" I repeated, but she didn't answer. Instead, she knelt down, reaching out toward the base of the stone, as though she were searching for something—her fingers brushing the ground, her movements slow and deliberate.
The whispers came again, clearer this time—louder, unmistakable. But even as I focused harder, the words were still too low to be understood. They hung in the air like a fog I couldn't quite see through. It was almost as if they were right there... but also, just out of reach.
Suddenly, Jee jerked her head up, her eyes wide and wild. She whipped around to face me, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
"Ashan... run," she hissed, her voice trembling with fear.
I froze, the words barely registering. My mind scrambled, trying to piece together what was happening, but I didn't have time to think. Before I could react, she grabbed my arm, yanking me backwards, her grip fierce and desperate.
But I didn't need any more explanation. I could feel it too now—the presence, the dark pressure in the air. Something was wrong, something was watching us, and I wasn't about to wait around to find out what.