It was supposed to be easy. Five guys, a few saws, and the kind of forest that no one dared to enter. We were just after a few trees, nothing more. Christmas was coming, and money was tight. We didn't care about the warnings. The restricted forest? A myth. Who would really care about a few trees?
I'm not sure where everything went wrong. But I'll never forget the cold, the oppressive silence, and how it felt like we weren't alone.
We parked the truck just outside the rotting fence that marked the boundary of the forest. The trees stood dark and intimidating, but none of us cared. We had a job to do. The kind of quick cash that would get us through the holidays.
"Alright, let's get to work," Mark said. He was always the leader, the guy who got us into trouble, but also the guy who usually got us out of it.
We grabbed our saws and headed into the forest. The ground was slick with frost, and the towering trees cast long, jagged shadows in the dim light. The air was thick, almost suffocating, but I wasn't about to let that stop me.
"First tree's over there," Mark called, pointing toward a massive pine about twenty yards ahead.
We moved in pairs, cutting the trees down one by one. The first one fell with a loud crack, the sound echoing through the forest like it was meant to wake something up. The second one wasn't any harder, just a few solid strokes, and it too toppled over, its branches crashing against the snow-covered ground.
I felt something then, something strange. The air felt wrong, the way it sometimes does just before a storm, when you can taste the electricity in the air. I brushed it off, figuring it was just nerves. But then there was the silence. The kind that fills your ears until they start to ring.
"Alright, drag it out," Mark said, his voice a little too sharp for my liking.
We tied the tree to the truck and were about to head deeper when I heard it. A snap, like a twig breaking underfoot. I turned quickly, expecting to see one of the guys just a few feet away, but there was nothing.
"Did you hear that?" I asked, looking at Kevin, who was right beside me.
He nodded, his expression tight. "Yeah. I don't like this. Something's off."
Before I could respond, there was a loud crash from further in the woods. Mark motioned for us to stay quiet, his face hard and focused.
"Stay close," he said. "It's just an animal."
But it didn't feel like just an animal. The noise had sounded too deliberate, too controlled. And then-right then-I saw it. A shape moving just beyond the trees, quick, too quick to be natural. It was large, maybe the size of a person, but it was fast, moving in a way that made my stomach twist.
"Did you see that?" Kevin whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I saw it," I said, my voice flat. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know, but we should get the hell out of here," Mark said, his usual confidence wavering.
But before anyone could move, we heard something worse. A scream. Short. Cut off.
"Adam!" Mark shouted, his voice cracking with panic.
We all spun toward the sound, but there was nothing. Not a trace. The snow was undisturbed, the trees just as still as they had been. But I knew. I knew something was wrong.
"Adam's gone," Kevin muttered, his face pale.
"Get it together," Mark snapped, but his hands were shaking as he gripped the saw. "We'll find him. He's gotta be around here somewhere."
We split up, calling for Adam, searching every direction. The forest seemed to stretch out endlessly, the trees pressing in as if watching. The air grew colder, and my breath came out in rapid clouds. Each step felt heavier, as though the ground itself wanted to drag me down.
Then there was a noise behind me, a quick scuffle, and I whirled around, heart pounding. Nothing. The silence was oppressive, a blanket that threatened to choke me.
"Kevin?" I called, trying to keep my voice steady. "Mark?"
A rustle came from the direction Adam had run off to, but when I looked, there was no one there. Just shadows, shifting and pulsing like they had a life of their own. I called out again, and my voice cracked under the strain.
Suddenly, there was another scream, this time from deeper in the forest. It was Kevin's voice, high with terror. I stumbled forward, but before I could see anything, there was a bone-chilling crack, like a branch snapping under weight. I froze.
"Kevin!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the trees.
A low, guttural growl rumbled through the darkness, and my body went cold. The noise didn't belong to any animal I knew. It was deep and ragged, the kind that made my skin crawl.
"Mark!" I called, but my voice was now thin, almost a whisper. The forest was pressing in so tightly, it felt like it was suffocating me.
And then I heard it, a slow, rhythmic thumping, like something large and heavy was moving toward me. My heart hammered in my chest as I turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, the sound of my footsteps muffled by the frost underfoot. I dared not look back.
The trees seemed to blur past me as I ran, shadows twisting and warping in my peripheral vision. The air tasted of iron and something else, something sharp that made my eyes water. Then came the silence again, so sudden and complete it felt like the forest had taken a breath.
I tripped over a root and fell hard, scraping my palms on the frozen earth. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and I lay there, gasping, unable to move. I turned my head and saw it—Mark's face, pale and frozen in terror, staring up at me from where he lay just a few feet away. His mouth was open, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide, fixed on something just beyond me. I followed his gaze, but there was nothing—just the deep, black void of the forest, the twisted trees, and the faint, echoing sound of heavy breathing.
I scrambled to my feet, my heart tearing at the sight of Mark's lifeless form. The fear that had been simmering in my veins boiled over, and I ran, legs shaking, muscles cramping, but I ran until I was at the truck.
I fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice before managing to unlock the door. I jumped in, slammed the door shut, and locked it. My hands were slick with sweat, my chest heaving as I turned the key in the ignition. The truck roared to life, and I didn't look back. I couldn't.
As I drove away, my eyes filled with tears, not just from fear but from the finality of what I had left behind. I didn't know where Adam and Kevin were, or what had happened to Mark. The forest seemed to whisper as I sped away, its secrets clinging to me like a second skin.
That night, I couldn't escape what I had seen, what I had felt. The whispers in the trees, the shapes that moved just beyond my sight. The weight of the forest that felt like it was pressing down on me.
I don't know what happened to Mark, to Adam, or to Kevin. But I know they're out there. Somewhere. Watching. Waiting.
And I don't think they're alone.