"The Pathless Journey

Rain dripped from the leaves in slow, heavy drops as Ayaan and Mariam stumbled deeper into the woods. They had been hiking with their classmates earlier that morning, but one wrong turn, one unmarked trail, had separated them from the group. At first, it was almost fun—a secret adventure. But as the sun slid down the sky and shadows lengthened into twisting claws, the fun bled away, leaving only fear.

“We should have found the path by now,” Mariam whispered, hugging her jacket tightly.

Ayaan tried to sound confident. “We’ll be fine. If we keep heading west, we’ll find the road. I think.” His voice faltered on the last word, and Mariam caught it.

They weren’t just lost. They were trapped.

The Forest That Listens

The forest was unnervingly quiet. Too quiet. No birds called, no crickets sang. Even the wind seemed to have died, as though the trees themselves were listening. Mariam shivered.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

Ayaan frowned. “Feel what?”

“Like… we’re not alone.”

He forced a laugh, but it cracked in the middle. “It’s just nerves. Come on.”

But inside, he felt it too—the prickling on the back of his neck, the sense of unseen eyes following their every move.

They pushed forward, the ground growing muddier beneath their shoes. The deeper they went, the more the forest seemed to twist. Trees leaned unnaturally close, their roots like gnarled fingers reaching out of the soil. Every path looked the same.

By nightfall, they were circling in confusion.

The First Sign

As darkness fell, they found a small clearing. A single wooden post jutted from the earth, carved with strange markings. It wasn’t a trail marker, not the kind hikers used. These carvings were rough, almost desperate, like scratches.

Mariam traced them with trembling fingers. “What do you think it means?”

Ayaan shook his head. “I don’t know. But someone’s been here before.”

“Then maybe—”

She cut off when a sound echoed behind them. A branch snapped.

They spun, flashlights sweeping across the trees. Nothing. Just darkness.

But the silence afterward was heavier than before.

A Test of Courage

They built a weak shelter from branches, huddling close for warmth. Sleep came in broken pieces, each interrupted by phantom sounds—the crunch of leaves, the hiss of wind that wasn’t there, the faintest whisper of movement in the dark.

At one point, Mariam stirred to see Ayaan sitting rigid, eyes wide, staring into the shadows.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I… I thought I saw someone,” he muttered. “Watching us.”

Her heart hammered. She wanted to deny it, to say it was just his imagination, but deep down, she knew the forest was not empty.

Something was there.

The Abandoned Cabin

The next morning, desperate for direction, they stumbled across an old wooden cabin hidden between thick pines. Its windows were shattered, its roof sagging, but smoke-black stains marked the chimney. Someone had once lived here.

Inside, the air smelled of damp wood and rot. A broken lantern lay on the floor, a chair overturned. On the wall, more carvings—scratches like the ones on the post. But these formed words.

“DON’T FOLLOW THE VOICES.”

Mariam’s breath caught. “Voices?”

As if in answer, a faint echo floated through the forest outside. A child’s laugh. High-pitched. Innocent.

But wrong.

It carried no warmth, no joy. Only hunger.

Ayaan grabbed her arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”

The Forest Turns

They ran. Branches clawed at their clothes, roots threatened to trip them. The laughter followed, sometimes close, sometimes distant, always just enough to push them deeper into panic.

Finally, gasping, they collapsed against a fallen log. Mariam clutched Ayaan’s sleeve. “What if we never get out? What if this forest doesn’t want us to leave?”

Ayaan wanted to reassure her, to say something brave. But when he opened his mouth, no words came. Only silence.

And in that silence, the forest seemed to lean closer, listening.

The Way Back

As dawn broke, light pierced through the canopy. For the first time in two days, they saw a glimpse of hope: a thin dirt trail winding between the trees.

They followed it, every step heavier with exhaustion. The path seemed endless, twisting, looping, but at last… the sound of traffic reached their ears.

Civilization. Home.

Mariam let out a sob of relief. “We made it. We’re going home.”

But Ayaan stopped, staring at the edge of the forest. His face went pale.

“What is it?” she asked.

He pointed to a tree beside the trail. Its bark was scratched with familiar words:

“DON’T FOLLOW THE VOICES.”

And faintly, from deep within the forest behind them, came a laugh.

High-pitched. Innocent.

And far too close