The Lantern in the Woods

she had spent hours hiking its winding trails, playing by the streams, and exploring the secluded parts of the land where few ventured. As an adult, the forest still called to her, a peaceful place to clear her mind and escape from the noise of daily life.

One chilly autumn evening, she decided to take a walk in the woods just before dusk. The trees were ablaze with color, the golden and crimson leaves falling around her in a dance of the season. It felt peaceful, almost magical. She loved how the forest seemed to hold secrets, whispering them to anyone who was willing to listen.

But that evening, as she wandered farther into the woods than usual, she noticed something strange. The forest seemed unusually quiet. No birds, no rustling leaves, no distant sound of a creek. The world felt still, and Sarah felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

She tried to shake off the feeling, convincing herself that it was just her imagination. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, the shadows in the woods grew deeper, and the feeling of being watched intensified. Her steps quickened, and she glanced over her shoulder, but no one was there.

That's when she saw it.

A soft light flickering in the distance, far beyond the trees. At first, she thought it might be the last rays of sunlight, but it was too steady, too constant. It was a lantern, swaying gently in the breeze, moving as though someone were carrying it.

Intrigued and slightly unnerved, Sarah decided to follow the light. She pushed through the thick underbrush, her heart pounding in her chest. The air grew colder as she ventured deeper into the forest, and the lantern's glow seemed to draw her in.

She found herself standing in a small clearing, the lantern now glowing brightly in the center of the space. But there was no one there. The light burned steadily, casting long shadows across the clearing.

Sarah approached cautiously, the hairs on her arms standing on end. The lantern was old-fashioned, hanging from a rusted hook attached to a wooden post. She reached out a trembling hand to touch it, but as her fingers brushed the cool metal, the light flickered and dimmed.

A voice, low and haunting, whispered from behind her.

"Leave."

Sarah spun around, but there was no one there. Her breath caught in her throat as the voice repeated, this time louder, more insistent.

"Leave now."

She didn’t wait for a third warning. Her instincts screamed at her to run, and she turned, bolting toward the path she had come from. The forest felt even darker now, as though the trees were closing in on her. The light of the lantern seemed to follow her, flickering in and out, always just behind her, no matter how fast she ran.

The whispers grew louder, now frantic, surrounding her from all directions. “Leave… it’s too late…”

She stumbled through the underbrush, her breath ragged, her heart pounding in her chest. The woods seemed endless, stretching far beyond what she had ever known. No matter how much she ran, the lantern's glow was still there, just out of reach. It felt like the forest was alive, like it was playing with her, drawing her deeper into its grip.

Finally, she reached the edge of the woods, gasping for breath. The lantern’s light disappeared as she stepped into the clearing. She stood there for a moment, trying to gather her bearings, before she turned to look back at the forest.

For a brief second, she saw it—the figure.

A tall, shadowed figure standing just beyond the trees, holding the lantern high. Its face was hidden, obscured by a hood, but Sarah could feel its gaze upon her, cold and unblinking.

And then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

Heart racing, Sarah stumbled back toward her car, never once looking over her shoulder. She didn’t stop until she was safely inside, her hands gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. As she drove away, she glanced in the rearview mirror.

The lantern’s light was still there, flickering faintly, in the distance.