The Vanishing Trail

The darkness pressed against them like a living thing. The lantern's flame had died in an instant, swallowed by the creeping shadows. Gean's breath came fast as he grabbed Lora's arm.

"Run!" he hissed.

They tore through the forest, dodging low-hanging branches and gnarled roots. The whispers followed, slithering through the air like tendrils of smoke. The shapes at the edge of their vision didn't move like normal creatures. They shifted—one moment distant, the next too close.

Lora glanced back, her pulse hammering. The shadows weren't chasing them like predators. They were herding them.

The path twisted, the trees changing shape around them. It was impossible—Brebos' outskirts were mapped centuries ago, but now the forest felt alien, like it was alive.

"Something's wrong!" she shouted, barely dodging a jagged root.

Gean skidded to a stop, chest heaving. They were standing in a clearing that shouldn't exist. A large, crumbling stone lay in the center, covered in deep scratches—as if something had been clawing at it.

Lora turned in a slow circle, gripping her weapon. "The path... it's gone."

Gean cursed under his breath. They had just come from the main road. Now, no matter which way they looked, there was no road left.

The whispers stilled. The air became unnaturally heavy, pressing against them like unseen hands.

Then—a rustle in the trees.

Not the shadows this time. Something else.

Lora turned sharply, raising her blade. A figure stumbled into the clearing, wild-eyed and shaking. His clothes were torn, his face gaunt with exhaustion.

Gean reacted instantly, stepping forward. "Who are you?"

The man's bloodshot eyes darted between them, filled with fear. He opened his mouth to speak, but at first, only a dry rasp came out. He swallowed, then whispered, "You shouldn't be here."

Lora narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

The man hesitated before croaking, "Orin."

Gean frowned. The name sounded familiar. Then it hit him—Orin was a messenger from the Circle, sent to investigate Brebos years ago.

But he had never returned.

"You were part of the first investigation," Gean said, his voice tense.

Orin nodded weakly, eyes darting to the trees as if something still hunted him. "I came with a team," he whispered. "Five of us. We searched the ruins. We thought it was just another abandoned city." His voice wavered. "Then we saw it."

Lora stepped closer. "Saw what?"

Orin swallowed hard. "The city isn't empty," he said. "It never was."

A chill ran down Gean's spine. "You mean the people didn't disappear?"

Orin shook his head. "No. They were taken."

Lora's grip tightened on her blade. "By what?"

Orin took a shuddering breath. "I don't know. I never saw it directly. But it sees everything." His eyes flicked up toward the sky. "It doesn't want us to leave."

Gean and Lora exchanged a glance. This wasn't just another lost town. Something had buried the truth.

Orin suddenly turned, motioning for them to follow. "Come. There's something you need to see."

Orin led them through the woods, moving fast despite his ragged state. The forest felt different now—watching them, waiting.

Soon, the trees thinned, revealing a half-buried structure, its entrance obscured by thick roots and broken stone. It was old—far older than Brebos itself.

Orin hesitated at the threshold. "This isn't part of the city. It was here before."

Gean peered inside. The passageway descended into utter darkness.

Lora's voice was steady. "What's down there?"

Orin exhaled shakily. "The people of Brebos… they went below."

Gean frowned. "You're saying they're still down there?"

Orin's silence was answer enough.

A slow chill crept up Lora's spine. If the city's people never left—what had they become?

Behind them, the trees shifted, the shadows moving closer once more.

There was no turning back.

Gean set his jaw. "Let's go."

And with that, they stepped into the dark.