The Forsaken Woods

The river had bought them time, but not safety.

Leon Graves crouched near the edge of the water, his SIG Sauer P226 soaked and empty. The others were sprawled along the muddy riverbank, coughing, shivering, catching their breath.

Eve Voss was the first to recover. She pushed herself up, running a hand through her soaked hair before glaring at Leon. "I swear to God, if you throw me into another freezing river, I'm shooting you myself."

Leon ignored her, scanning the treeline.

The masked figures hadn't followed. They still stood at the top of the ravine, unmoving, watching.

Waiting.

Riley wiped the water from her face, trembling. "Why aren't they coming after us?"

Leon's jaw tightened. "Because they don't need to."

Eve's eyes darkened. "You think they wanted us to go this way?"

Leon didn't answer.

Because he was starting to think the same thing.

The forest ahead was wrong.

The trees were taller here, their trunks twisted, gnarled. The undergrowth was thick, the ground damp with pools of stagnant water that reeked of rot.

Leon scanned the area, instincts on high alert. Something wasn't right.

Tyler and Sam huddled together, their small forms shaking. The two boys had been silent since the river, their wide eyes darting between the trees.

Finally, Sam whispered, "We shouldn't be here."

Leon turned to him. "Why?"

Sam hesitated.

Tyler swallowed hard. "Because we've heard the stories. The Forsaken Woods… people go in, but they don't come out."

Riley tensed. "You could've mentioned that earlier."

Eve rolled her shoulders, gripping her M4 carbine tighter. "What are we dealing with? More masked freaks? Infected?"

Sam's voice was barely a whisper.

Leon didn't like ghosts.

Didn't believe in them.

But the air in these woods felt heavy, charged with something unseen. A wrongness that settled deep in the bones.

They walked in silence, moving cautiously.

Then the smell hit.

Rotting meat.

Leon slowed, motioning for the others to stop. Eve stepped beside him, wrinkling her nose. "That's not normal decay."

Leon followed the scent through the trees.

That's when he saw it.

A body, strung up between two trees.

It wasn't fresh. Skin stretched thin over bone, the eyes missing. Strange symbols had been carved into the flesh, the same ones they had seen on the deer.

Riley gagged, turning away. "Jesus Christ."

Eve muttered, "This wasn't infected. This was done by hand."

Leon stepped closer, scanning the area. No tracks. No drag marks. No signs of how the body got here.

As if it had simply… appeared.

Tyler tugged at Sam's arm. "We need to leave."

Leon agreed.

They moved faster now, pushing deeper into the woods. The smell faded, but the unease didn't.

Leon's senses stayed sharp, scanning for movement.

Then—a sound.

Not the wind.

Not the rustling of leaves.

Something deeper.

Low. Rhythmic.

A whispering chant.

Leon froze. Eve raised her rifle.

Riley gripped her knife. "What the hell is that?"

Leon didn't answer.

Because the sound was coming from everywhere.

The whispering grew louder, shifting from one direction to another. It was impossible to track.

Then, just as suddenly as it started—it stopped.

Silence.

Then—the snap of a branch.

Leon turned just as something burst from the undergrowth.

A figure—tall, thin, moving unnaturally fast. Its skin was pale, stretched too tight, its mouth stitched closed with black thread.

It came straight for them.

Leon fired.

The first shot hit its chest. The second took out its knee.

It didn't stop.

Leon barely had time to react before it was on him.

Leon caught the creature's wrist just as it swung at him, its nails sharp like claws. He twisted, driving his elbow into its neck, sending it staggering.

Eve fired, putting three rounds into its back.

It collapsed, twitching.

Then, slowly, it began to rise again.

Leon didn't hesitate. He grabbed his knife and slammed it into its skull.

The body convulsed violently, then went still.

Leon pulled his knife free, breathing hard.

Eve exhaled. "What the fuck was that?"

Leon wiped the blackened blood off his blade. "Not infected. Something else."

Tyler and Sam clung to each other, their faces pale. Riley kept her knife raised, hands shaking.

They weren't safe here.

Not even close.

Leon turned to move—then stopped.

Because in the distance, through the gaps in the trees, dozens of shapes stood watching.

More figures. More stitched mouths.

Still. Unmoving.

Waiting.

Leon's stomach twisted.

"We run," he said.

Nobody argued.

They ran.

They ran for what felt like hours.

The trees blurred together, the air growing thicker with mist. The whispering started again, but now it was in their heads, inside their skulls.

Then, suddenly, the woods ended.

They stumbled into a clearing.

An old cabin sat at the center, partially hidden by fog. Its windows were boarded up, its roof sagging. But it was shelter.

Leon didn't hesitate. "Inside. Now."

The group rushed through the door, slamming it shut.

Leon bolted the lock, stepping back.

Silence.

The whispering had stopped.

Eve pressed her back against the wall, panting. "I swear to God, Leon. If there's some creepy old dude in here waiting to tell us we're already dead, I'm done."

Leon scanned the room. Dust. Cobwebs. No signs of life.

For now.

Riley hugged herself. "We can't stay here."

Leon knew she was right. But they needed rest.

And maybe, just maybe, answers.

The fire had long gone cold in the stone hearth. Dust coated every surface.

Leon moved toward a desk in the corner, brushing away old papers.

A journal sat beneath them. Weathered. Worn.

He picked it up.

The cover was smeared with something dark. Blood.

Eve stepped beside him. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Leon exhaled. "Only one way to find out."

He opened the book.

Inside, scrawled in jagged, frantic handwriting, was a single phrase, repeated over and over.

"THEY DON'T HUNT FOR FOOD. THEY HUNT FOR SOULS."

Leon's fingers tightened around the pages.

Eve muttered, "I fucking hate this place."

Then, from outside, came a new sound.

A slow, deliberate knock at the door.

Leon's blood ran cold.

Because whoever it was… they had just let themselves in.