Hearts Entwined

In the quaint town of Westridge, tucked between dark ancient forests, a legend exists, one each child hears as a child-a story of two lovers whose hearts were bound, not by love but by something much more evil. No one really knew where it came from, but the message was always quite clear: do not go wandering into the forest after night has fallen for that is where the "Entwined" live.

The legend had been a familiar story that Charlotte had often heard, yet she never credited it. For she was pragmatic, a woman of science through profession, and no ghost tale could make her believe in reasoning. However, when her fiancé, Thomas, vanished the same evening as an argument arose, leaving no trace but trampled leaves from the broken heap leading into the forest, all changed.

Days passed without a sign of him, and the town buzzed with rumors. Some said Thomas had left Charlotte; others whispered that the Entwined had claimed him. Desperate for answers, Charlotte decided to search the forest herself, against the warnings of the townspeople. Armed with nothing but a flashlight and her determination, she entered the woods as twilight descended.

The forest was dense, and the towering trees were casting long shadows that seemed to twist and move in the fading light. The air was growing cold, impossibly so, as Charlotte moved deeper into it. Her breath came in sharp puffs, the only sound breaking the eerie silence. The further she went, the more uncomfortable the atmosphere grew. The forest seemed alive—watching, waiting.

Hours of walking brought Charlotte into a clearing, where in its center stood an old cabin: moss and vines covered the sides. A foreboding fear swept over her but something inside sent her moving ahead. She creaked the door open: the hinges complaining at her move. The interior of the cabin was dark; only a soft glow came from one corner.

There, she saw them.

Two figures sat facing each other in wooden chairs. Their bodies were pale, their faces eerily still, as though frozen in time. But what drew Charlotte's gaze was their chests. From each figure's heart, thick black vines stretched out, twisting and weaving together in the air between them, their hearts literally *entwined* by the dark, pulsing tendrils.

Charlotte gasped; the figures weren't just any figures-they were Thomas, and a woman she didn't know, locked in this gruesome embrace. Their faces were vacant, their eyes staring blankly ahead, as if they were alive but imprisoned in a dream from which they could never wake.

What did you do?" Charlotte whispered and took a step closer, heartbeats pounding her chest. Reaching out with an open hand for Thomas's own, she came into contact only with the slightest touch of skin, and in response, vines tightened.

For one brief moment, Thomas's eyes flickered back to life. His mouth worked, and sounds did come forth, though it was unintelligible noise. The woman sitting beside him began to shift; for the first time, Charlotte saw that her lips curled back into a gruesome smile, as if she relished in this twisted amusement and the pain which surrounded them.

Suddenly, vines began to sprout, wrapping out from the two figures, creeping towards Charlotte. She backed away, her mind racing. The legend was true all along; these were the Entwined. It wasn't love that bound them; it was the forest itself, feeding off their hearts, using their emotions as a source of dark power.

Panicked, Charlotte ran toward the door, but it slammed shut. The vines slid across the floor and reached out for her ankles. She looked frantically for something, anything, to defend herself with. In the corner of the room, she spotted a rusty axe, half-buried beneath old, rotting wood.

Trembling in her hands, she seized the axe and swung at the vines. They recoiled for a moment but soon coalesced, twisting and writhing as they reached out to her once more. Charlotte knew she had one opportunity to save Thomas—and herself.

Her eyes focused on the place where their two souls were bounded by love, and the heart of dark magic that imprisoned them. Gathering what strength she had left she thrust the axe down with a mighty swing.

As soon as the blade struck the vines, a scream pierced the cabin, deafening in its volume. The air around her appeared to ripple and shudder with the breaking of the bond between the Entwined. The vines died and slumped to the floor, and the figures of Thomas and the woman slumped forward in their chairs, dead.

But as Charlotte stood there, panting and shaking, she realized too late that cutting the vines hadn't freed Thomas. It had released something far worse-something ancient, something evil. The forest outside began to stir, and Charlotte felt its presence closing in, a dark force that had been waiting for centuries to reclaim its hold.

And now, it had her.