A little girl in a blue frilled one - piece dress stood at the edge of the woods, her twin braids swaying gently in the breeze. She clutched a worn pony doll to her chest, her wide eyes locked on the forest ahead. There was something otherworldly about the woods, a soft, melodic sound emanating from its depths. It was almost like a voice—gentle, playful, coaxing her closer. Promises of games, endless toys, and everything her heart could desire whispered through the air. All she had to do was step inside.
Behind her, the hum of her mother's conversation with the neighbors drifted through the yard. Carefree laughter echoed, distant and safe. The little girl glanced back; her mother's figure blurred by sunlight. She hesitated, her grip tightening on the pony doll, a flicker of unease crossing her face.
But the whispers grew louder, more insistent, and the allure of the woods became irresistible. With a quick breath, she let the toy drop onto the grass and took a step forward. The sound grew louder, beckoning. Another step. And another.
The towering trees loomed overhead like ancient guardians, their thick canopies swallowing the daylight. Shadows pooled around her feet, turning the world dim and strange. Yet, the darkness wasn't oppressive—it sparkled. Tiny golden fireflies appeared, blinking like stars against the gloom. They swirled in front of her, forming a glittering path that seemed to stretch endlessly into the forest. Awe replaced her fear as she followed, her small feet crunching softly on the forest floor.
The deeper she went, the stranger it became. The trees groaned faintly, their bark creaking as if alive. From their branches emerged tiny winged creatures, their bodies glowing with a soft, glittering light. They darted around her, playful and curious. She giggled, reaching out to touch one, but it zipped away before her fingers could graze its delicate wings.
Then she saw it—a white pony with its main streaked in soft pink highlights. It stood ahead; its large, glassy obsidian eyes fixed on her. For a moment, neither moved. Then, with a soft neigh, it turned and began walking deeper into the woods. Her heart leapt.
"Wait for me!" she cried, chasing after it.
She ran, her laughter echoing among the trees. But the forest began to change. The fireflies disappeared; their golden light extinguished. The glittering creatures vanished back into the bark, and the trees grew gnarled and sinister, their twisted branches clawing at the sky. The air thickened, heavy with silence, she turned back to check where the winged creatures has gone and turned front to find the pony was gone.
Her steps faltered, and a chill ran down her spine. The enchanting forest now felt suffocating, its shifting shadows closing in. She spun around, searching for the path, for the fireflies, for anything familiar.
"Mo... Mommy?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
Tears blurred her vision as she called out again, louder this time. "Mommy!"
"Lily..." A voice answered. Faint, distant, but unmistakable—it was her mother's voice. Warm. Comforting. Calling her name. Relief flooded her as she wiped her tears.
"Mommy, I'm here!" she cried, running toward the sound.
The voice grew louder, closer, and she froze as she spotted a silhouette ahead, just beyond the trees. It was her mother.
"Mommy!"
she screamed, sprinting forward. Her mother stepped closer; her arms outstretched. Lily ran into her embrace, clinging tightly, tears streaming down her face. But as she buried her face in her mother's legs, something felt wrong.
She pulled back, her heart hammering, and looked up—only to see a stranger's face staring down at her. The face was pale and smooth, its features unnaturally perfect, as if sculpted from porcelain. Its eyes were hollow, reflecting nothing but darkness.
A cold whisper slithered into her ears, chilling her to the core.
"Now you've lost. So, you're it."
Lily stumbled back, her small hands trembling as she stared at the figure. Behind her, faint laughter echoed, soft and chilling. She turned slowly and saw them—children, dozens of them, their faces twisted into the same hollow perfection as the stranger. Among them were adults, their expressions equally frozen in an eerie, unfeeling gaze. All stood silently, watching.
The sound of her voice—her own voice—pierced the silence. "Mommy, I'm here!" it cried, playful and innocent.
Lily's breath caught as she turned toward the source. There, she saw her mother, standing at the edge of the forest, clutching something tightly—a missing poster with Lily's smiling face.
"Mommy, help me!" the voice called again. It was her voice, but not hers. It was the forests.
Her mother's eyes widened in desperation as she stepped closer to the trees. "Lily?" she called out, her voice shaking.
Lily wanted to scream, to warn her, but the words stuck in her throat. The figures behind her—the children and adults—moved closer, their presence pressing down on her like the weight of the shadows.
"Catch her," the whisper urged. It was playful now, teasing. "Catch your mommy. She's next."
The forest twisted around her, and Lily felt herself moving, her steps no longer her own. She followed the voice calling her mother, the same expression etched onto her face as the hollow figures behind her. Her mother stepped deeper into the woods, the missing poster slipping from her fingers and fluttering to the ground.
The last thing Lily saw before disappearing into the trees was her mother, standing frozen, looking back at her with wide, terrified eyes. And then, Lily vanished into the shadows, her hollow gaze saw her Mother's eyes changed just like hers and they together blending into one of the forest's eternal games.