The Sad Child was not a myth. He was real. He was a little boy, no older than eight, who walked through forests like a phantom, always looking, always searching. He wasn't lost. He wasn't dead, either. He was something else. Something in-between. He could find children. But what he found them for… nobody knew for sure.
Cameron had heard the stories before. They all sounded the same. Parents who lost children in the woods, and then somehow—somehow—their children were found again, cold, hollow, with strange eyes, speaking of a boy who helped them.
Cameron had been a rescue worker for ten years. He had found more bodies than he'd care to count. He knew the woods, every crag and ravine, every dark hollow. He wasn't afraid of anything out there. Not even The Sad Child. But that was before he met him.
It was late autumn when the call came in. Another child had gone missing near the edge of the Appalachian woods. Cameron had been assigned to lead the search. It wasn't the first time. It wasn't even the first time in this area. But something felt off about this one.
The parents had been frantic. The little girl, Emma, had wandered off into the trees during a family camping trip. The area wasn't particularly dense, but the trail had disappeared after a few miles. The police had already scoured the area with dogs, but nothing.
Cameron grabbed his gear and assembled his team. There were six of them in total, all seasoned professionals. They knew what to do: track, search, and find. Simple.
They trekked for hours, splitting into two groups to cover more ground. The sun was low in the sky, and the shadows had already started to stretch. Cameron had a sinking feeling, the kind you get when something is wrong, but you can't place why. He glanced over his shoulder at his team, all moving quickly, all determined.
It wasn't until they were deep into the forest that they saw him. The boy.
He appeared in the distance, standing motionless at the base of an old oak tree. He didn't move as Cameron's group approached, but Cameron could see his features even from this far away—his pale face framed by dark, unkempt hair. His clothes were ragged, too big for his thin frame. He didn't belong here.
"Stay back," Cameron ordered, his voice low. He signaled for his team to spread out, keeping their distance.
The boy didn't react. He simply stared at them. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at them—an emptiness, like there was nothing behind his eyes.
"Hey," Cameron called out, stepping forward cautiously. "Are you lost, kid?"
The boy didn't speak. He just continued staring, his eyes wide and unblinking.
Cameron's heart pounded in his chest. He felt an urge to approach, to take the child somewhere safe, but something about this felt wrong. It felt... off.
"Stay back," Cameron repeated to the others. He took another step, feeling the weight of the silence pressing against him.
The boy's mouth moved, but no words came out. Then, finally, he spoke.
"Emma," the boy whispered.
Cameron froze. He'd heard that name before—Emma, the missing girl. How did he know her name?
"How do you know about Emma?" Cameron demanded, his voice sharp.
The boy's head tilted slightly, his lips pulling into the faintest semblance of a smile. "I know where she is."
Cameron's stomach twisted. There was something deeply unsettling about the way the boy spoke. It wasn't just the words; it was the way they were said, as though the boy wasn't entirely present. As though he were... something else.
"Where is she?" Cameron asked, his voice trembling, though he couldn't understand why.
The boy pointed towards the depths of the forest. "Follow me."
Cameron's team exchanged glances. Nobody spoke, but they all knew what to do. They couldn't leave the boy alone, not with him offering help. They had to follow.
They trekked deeper into the forest, the trees thickening, the air growing colder. The further they went, the more isolated they felt.
The boy led them with ease, his small feet barely making a sound as they moved. He never looked back, and yet Cameron couldn't shake the feeling that he was always watching them.
Cameron's thoughts churned as they moved, but there was one question that kept rising to the surface: How could a child this young have known Emma's name?
And then it hit him.
The stories.
The Sad Child was said to appear when a child had gone missing in the woods, guiding rescuers to their bodies. He was the one who found them, but never said anything about how or why. It was as though he were a ghost, trapped in an endless loop of searching for the lost, but never able to escape.
Cameron's heart pounded louder now, but he forced himself to focus. He couldn't let fear take over. He had a job to do.
Hours passed as they followed the boy, the light fading as the sun dipped below the horizon. The forest grew quieter, the sounds of wildlife muffled by the oppressive stillness.
Finally, they arrived at a small clearing. In the center, lying motionless on the ground, was Emma.
Cameron's blood ran cold. The little girl lay there, her eyes wide open and empty. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and her limbs were contorted in unnatural angles. She looked like she had been dead for days, though the air around her felt strangely fresh, as though she had only just fallen.
And standing next to her, the boy—the Sad Child—watched.
Cameron's throat tightened. This wasn't right. None of this was right.
"What happened to her?" Cameron asked, his voice hoarse.
The boy looked at Emma, then at Cameron, his mouth curling into a faint smile.
"She's not lost anymore," he whispered.
Cameron felt his legs give out. He stumbled back, his hand gripping a nearby tree to steady himself. The air felt thicker now, colder, as though something had changed, something had shifted.
The boy turned and started to walk away, his footsteps barely audible.
Cameron felt an overwhelming urge to follow, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He just watched as the boy walked deeper into the woods, disappearing into the darkness.
Then, he heard a sound. A whisper. A voice, soft and distant, calling his name.
"Cameron…"
It wasn't Emma. It wasn't the boy. It was something else. Something he couldn't place. Something that had been following him since he stepped into the forest.
"Cameron…"
He looked back at the girl. Her eyes were open, but there was nothing in them. No soul. Just emptiness.
And then he understood.
The Sad Child didn't help. He didn't rescue. He led them to the lost, and then he took them.
Cameron's legs froze as his heart seemed to stop. The darkness around him felt deeper now, swallowing him whole.
"Cameron…"
It was all around him now. The whispering, the voices, the sound of things shifting, crawling, moving through the trees.
He turned, trying to run, but his legs didn't respond. It was like the earth had swallowed him whole.
And then, with a sudden, deafening silence, he felt it. Cold, small hands gripping his arm, pulling him down into the earth. He couldn't scream. He couldn't fight.
The forest swallowed him whole, just as it had swallowed Emma, and all the others before her.
And somewhere, deep within the trees, the Sad Child waited for the next one to come.