The House in the Wandering Forest

As time went on, Joshua and David did their best to help each other. Their friendship grew, strengthened by shared struggles and an unspoken bond. Years passed, and they became like brothers, standing together against the challenges of life. They had seen each other through tough moments, whether it was fighting off bullies or facing personal grief. There was a quiet understanding between them, something that didn't need words. They knew what the other needed, and they were always there for each other.

But as the seasons changed, so did David.

Joshua began to notice subtle differences in his friend. David, once open and cheerful around him, started keeping things to himself. He would often disappear from the village, returning late in the evening, his body exhausted and his expression unreadable. Whenever Joshua asked where he had been, David would brush off the question with a forced smile and a vague excuse.

At first, Joshua dismissed it. After all, they were growing up. They had their own lives to lead, their own paths to follow. But the changes were hard to ignore. David's once easygoing nature had been replaced with something darker. Something he couldn't quite place.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the villagers began to settle in for the night, Joshua watched David slip out of the village, as he often did now. There was something different about his movements, though—a sense of urgency. His head was lowered, and his shoulders hunched in a way that told Joshua that whatever was going on, it was weighing heavily on him.

Curiosity piqued, Joshua made a decision. He would follow David.

Keeping his steps quiet and careful, he trailed David from the edge of the village, watching him disappear into the Wandering Forest—a place that many people feared. It was said to be filled with strange, shifting paths and was known to play tricks on those who ventured too deep. But tonight, Joshua wasn't concerned with the stories; he was concerned with his friend.

He followed David through the dense trees, the sounds of the forest surrounding him as he pushed forward, keeping a safe distance. As they neared the edge of the forest, David paused, and Joshua ducked behind a tree to avoid being seen. He peered out from behind the trunk and saw David standing before an elderly man—a figure he had never seen before. The man was short, with a wiry frame, and his hair was streaked with gray, with only a few strands of black remaining. There was something unsettling about the way the man stood, as if he were waiting for something.

David approached the old man, and without exchanging many words, they began to walk together deeper into the forest. Joshua's heart raced as he watched them disappear into the undergrowth.

The house they came to was unlike anything Joshua had expected. Nestled deep in the forest, almost hidden by the thick canopy of trees, stood a small, misshapen house. The walls were crooked, the windows covered in black cloth, and vines crawled up the sides like something that had been abandoned long ago. The roof was slanted, sagging in places, as though it could collapse at any moment.

David and the elderly man entered the house without a second thought, and Joshua, his curiosity now burning, waited. He hid in the shadows of the trees, watching for hours as the minutes passed into night.

When they finally emerged, hours later, David's movements were slow, and his face looked more tired than Joshua had ever seen. The old man, too, appeared just as unperturbed as before, as if this was just another routine. They made their way back toward the village, not speaking, but there was a heavy air between them, one that felt wrong.

Joshua didn't follow them immediately. He waited, making sure they were out of sight before he moved.

His heart pounded as he approached the house, his mind racing with questions. The air around the house felt thick, oppressive, like it was holding its breath. The door creaked open with a mere push, and Joshua stepped inside.

The house was empty, save for dust and the smell of decay. There was nothing remarkable about it—no furniture, no decoration—just a hollow shell of a place that seemed forgotten by time. But then, Joshua's eyes were drawn to something strange: a trapdoor in the center of the floor, almost hidden beneath a rug that had long since lost its color.

His instincts screamed at him to turn back. But something deeper—an unsettling, nagging feeling—pulled him toward it.

He opened the trapdoor. A flight of narrow stairs led downward into pitch-blackness, and a faint, metallic scent hit his nose—blood. His heart thudded in his chest as he descended the stairs, the cold air growing thicker with each step.

At the bottom of the stairs, Joshua found himself in a dank, dimly lit chamber. The walls were lined with rusted tools—chains, hooks, knives, and other cruel-looking instruments. The air was thick with the stench of iron, and the floor was sticky underfoot.

Then, in the center of the room, he saw something that stopped his heart.

A body. A familiar face.

It was one of the kids from their past—one of the bullies who had tormented them when they were younger.

The figure was slumped in a chair, beaten and bloodied. Bruises marred their skin, and deep cuts raked across their arms and torso. The eyes, wide and filled with pain, seemed to recognize Joshua, but there was little life left in them.

Joshua felt his breath catch in his throat. Baba, the boy who had been the leader of their childhood tormentors. The one who had bullied David and him for years, often pushing them around and calling them names. The face that had haunted them for so long was now unrecognizable, reduced to nothing more than a tortured shell.

Why was Baba here? And why was David involved?

A chill ran through Joshua as he realized the horrific truth. The person in the chair had been tortured—left to die. The face was all too familiar. It was someone who had been missing for weeks, someone Joshua had known. And now, here they were, held captive in the dark, with only the cruel remnants of the tools that had once been used to break them.

David... what have you gotten yourself into?

Joshua stood frozen, the weight of the situation crashing down on him. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to leave this place and never come back. But deep down, he knew this wasn't just about David anymore.

It was about something much larger. And Joshua had to find out what.

Just then, a voice echoed from the shadows. It was deep, gravelly, and eerily calm.

"You shouldn't have come here, boy."

Joshua spun around to face the source of the voice. The old man from the forest, Saponu Sebastian, emerged from the darkness. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his cold eyes fixed on Joshua. His wrinkled face was stoic, but there was an unmistakable malice in his gaze.

"You've seen too much already. Now, you must decide. Leave, and forget everything you've witnessed here, or stay, and you will be drawn into something far darker than you could imagine."

Joshua stood his ground, his heart racing, but his resolve stronger than ever.

"I need to know what you're doing to David," Joshua said, his voice unwavering despite the fear gnawing at him.

Saponu's lips curled into a thin, menacing smile. "David... He's helping me with something far greater than you can understand."

The words echoed in Joshua's mind as the dark truth of the situation began to settle in. He knew he had to act fast. Whatever this man was doing, it was something dangerous, something that would change everything.