Once upon a time, in a small village surrounded by an enchanted forest, there lived a young man named Mark. Mark was a curious and adventurous soul, always seeking new thrills and excitement. He had heard rumors about the mysterious forest, tales of dark magic and unsolved disappearances. But Mark, fueled by his thirst for adventure, couldn't resist the allure of the unknown. He decided to venture into the forbidden forest, despite the warnings of the villagers.
Armed with only a dimly lit lantern and a strong resolve, Mark stepped into the eerie forest. The towering trees whispered to one another as he delved deeper, their branches reaching out like bony fingers. Mark's heart pounded with both excitement and apprehension. He knew he might encounter something terrifying amid the darkness, yet he couldn't turn back.
As he ventured deeper into the forest, Mark noticed strange markings etched on the trees. Each tree bore a symbol resembling a distorted face. The air grew thick with an unsettling energy, causing Mark to shiver. Ignoring his inner voice urging him to turn back, he pressed on.
Minutes turned into hours, and Mark found himself lost in a labyrinth of ancient trees. Panic gripped him as he realized he had no idea which way to go. Suddenly, a chilling wind rustled the leaves above him, and in the distance, he spotted a flickering light. Desperate for guidance, Mark followed the mystical glow.
The light led him to a clearing bathed in moonlight. In the center of the clearing stood an old, decrepit cabin. The door creaked open invitingly, as if waiting for Mark to enter. With trepidation, he crossed the threshold, stepping into a darkness so deep that it felt as if it swallowed him whole.
Inside the cabin, Mark's lantern flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, making it difficult to breathe. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Mark noticed strange symbols carved into the wooden floor. They drew his attention to a decrepit book lying on a table, its ancient pages filled with cryptic symbols.
Driven by curiosity, Mark began to decipher the forbidden text. But as he read aloud the incantations, the air grew thick with malevolence. Shadows danced across the room, and Mark felt a supernatural force taking hold of him. Panic consumed him as he realized he had released an ancient curse upon himself.
Mark tried to run from the cabin, but his legs felt heavy, as if invisible chains held him in place. The walls closed in on him, suffocating him with their darkness. The symbols on the floor glowed with an eerie green light, trapping him within their sinister embrace.
As the curse took hold of him, Mark's body began to contort, his bones snapping like dry twigs. Bloodcurdling screams echoed through the forest, but nobody could hear them. Mark's fate was sealed; he had become a prisoner of the curse, forever bound to the haunted cabin in the forest.
Legend tells that anyone who ventures into the forest will hear Mark's tortured screams, haunting their dreams and reminding them of the curse that befalls those who seek forbidden knowledge. The village elders warned future generations about the tragedy of Mark, hoping to deter any foolhardy individuals from entering the forest.
And so, the curse of Mark still lingers in the forest, serving as a chilling reminder that some secrets are best left untouched, and some horrors are beyond human comprehension.
About the Creator
Modhilraj
Modhilraj writes lifestyle-inspired horror where everyday routines slowly unravel into dread. His stories explore fear hidden in habits, homes, and quiet moments—because the most unsettling horrors live inside normal life.
The Station Without Trains
Seen (1) At the far end of a desert highway stood a train station that no map acknowledged. There were no tracks leading to it, no schedules posted, and no trains that ever arrived. Still, every evening at sunset, the lights turned on. Maya found the station by accident while driving cross-country to escape a life that felt too heavy. Her radio had gone silent miles ago, and her phone showed no signal. When she saw the station glowing in the distance, she pulled over, relieved to find signs of life. The station was clean, almost untouched by time. Wooden benches lined the platform, and an old clock hung above the entrance, forever stuck at 6:40. The air smelled of dust and iron, like a place waiting to be used. “Hello?” Maya called. No answer. She sat on a bench, telling herself she would leave in five minutes. But as the sun disappeared, the lights grew warmer, softer. Calm settled over her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. A man in a conductor’s uniform stepped out from the shadows. His clothes looked old-fashioned, but neatly pressed. His face was kind, though tired. “You’re early,” he said. “Early for what?” Maya asked. “For the train,” he replied. Maya frowned. “There are no tracks.” The man smiled gently. “Not all journeys need them.” He explained that this station was a place between leaving and arriving—a pause for those who were lost, grieving, or running from something they couldn’t name. People didn’t come here on purpose. They arrived when they needed stillness. “Does the train ever come?” Maya asked. “Yes,” he said. “But only once for each person.” Maya felt a tightness in her chest. “Where does it go?” The conductor looked at the horizon. “To the life you stopped believing in.” Maya thought of the dreams she had abandoned, the version of herself she no longer recognized. Tears surprised her, sliding down her face without warning. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” she whispered. The conductor nodded. “That’s why the train hasn’t arrived.” They sat in silence as the stars appeared. For the first time in years, Maya didn’t feel the urge to run. She felt seen. Slowly, the station lights dimmed. The conductor stood. “When you leave,” he said, “you won’t remember this place. But you’ll remember how you felt.” A distant sound echoed—not a train horn, but something close to a heartbeat. Maya blinked. She was back in her car, parked on the side of the empty highway. The station was gone. The road stretched endlessly ahead. But her chest felt lighter. She turned the key and drove forward, not knowing exactly where she was going—but certain, for the first time, that she was finally on the right track.
By Do bol ho jaaye 3 days ago in Horror
Let's Don't Do This
"I just can't do this anymore..." "Do what?" What can't you do? Put gas in your own car? I swear to God you make me take care of everything, don't you? You know I'm on my way to work right now but that never stops you from bothering me, does it?"
By Shirley Belk6 days ago in Fiction
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