Daniel and Sara sat at the forest's edge, catching their breath. They had escaped, yet something felt… wrong. A strange, insidious feeling of being watched lingered even as they left the woods. The world seemed off-kilter—quiet, yet pulsing with tension.
As they stood to leave, Sara froze, her gaze fixed on something in the distance. "Daniel… look."
Daniel followed her stare to see… Chloe. Standing in the shadows just beyond the trees, her face expressionless, her eyes glazed and empty.
"Chloe!" he shouted, stumbling toward her.
But as he neared, Chloe turned, her face twisting into a grotesque smile, her features stretching and shifting until she was someone—something—else entirely.
"Why did you leave me, Daniel?" her voice rasped, filled with an unnatural bitterness. Her skin darkened, turning to bark, and she melted back into the tree line, leaving Daniel clutching at empty air.
Sara pulled him back, her hand trembling. "Daniel, that wasn't her."
"Then what was it?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The world around them had become disturbingly silent, as if the entire town were holding its breath. They hurried back, but as they walked, they both began hearing voices—murmurs, faint and indistinct at first, but growing louder with each step. The voices didn't come from any direction—they were within them, as if the forest had left pieces of itself inside their minds.
"What are they saying?" Sara whispered, pressing her hands to her ears, her face contorted in pain.
Daniel listened, trying to separate the voices. They spoke in fragments:
"You won't leave the forest unscathed…"
"Secrets buried… only the brave survive…"
"It's already taken you, body and soul…"
Daniel tried to shake off the whispers, but with each step, the voices grew louder, clearer, until they became distinct, familiar. He heard Chloe, calling his name in a panicked scream, her voice laced with terror. He heard his mother's voice, whispering things she would never say—dark, twisted accusations that sank deep into his soul.
By the time they reached Daniel's house, they were both shivering, pale, and drenched in sweat. The voices had quieted, but the oppressive weight of the forest still clung to them, lingering like an invisible shroud.
Inside, they tried to reassure themselves, telling each other that it was just the forest playing tricks, that the visions weren't real. But then they saw it.
A mark—something dark and bruise-like—was spreading on Sara's arm, slowly twisting into the shape of an eye.
"Daniel," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's watching us."
And in that moment, they knew: the forest hadn't let them go. It had marked them.