Scribd
Upload
31 views1 page

Story 2

Uploaded by

Muhamad Amiruddin Husni
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
31 views1 page

Story 2

Uploaded by

Muhamad Amiruddin Husni
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
You are on page 1/ 1

Story 1: The Whispering Woods

The villagers spoke of the Whispering Woods with a mix of fear and reverence. Nestled at the edge
of the small town of Alderbrook, the forest was an enigma. Travelers who ventured too far often
never returned, and those who did spoke of voices—soft whispers carried on the wind, promising
secrets and salvation.
Sarah, a curious journalist, arrived in Alderbrook one crisp autumn afternoon, determined to
unravel the mystery of the woods. She had heard the legends from a local podcast and felt
compelled to investigate. The villagers’ warnings did little to deter her.
“Stay away,” said Mrs. Hargrove, the owner of the inn where Sarah was staying. “The woods take
what they want. They’ve taken enough from us already.”
Sarah smiled politely, jotting down the older woman’s words. “I’ll be careful,” she promised.
The next morning, armed with her camera, a notebook, and a flashlight, Sarah entered the
Whispering Woods. The trees seemed to close in around her as she walked, their branches forming
a canopy that blocked out the sunlight. The air grew colder, and an eerie silence enveloped her.
She heard it first as a faint hum, almost imperceptible. Then came the whispers.
“Sarah…”
She froze, her breath catching in her throat. The voice was soft, familiar. It sounded like her mother,
who had passed away years ago.
“Come closer,” the voice beckoned. “I’ve missed you.”
Sarah’s rational mind screamed at her to leave, but the pull of the voice was too strong. She
ventured deeper into the woods, the whispers growing louder and more insistent. They overlapped,
a cacophony of voices calling her name, each one tugging at a buried memory.
She stumbled into a clearing where the ground was littered with broken trinkets—watches,
necklaces, photographs. In the center stood a gnarled tree, its roots twisted around a crude
wooden chair. Sitting in the chair was a figure cloaked in shadows.
“Sarah,” the figure said, its voice shifting between tones—her mother, her best friend, her late
grandfather. “You’ve come at last.”
“Who are you?” Sarah demanded, her voice trembling.
The figure leaned forward, revealing hollow eyes that seemed to swallow the light. “We are the lost.
The woods keep us. Now you will join us.”
The whispers grew deafening, drowning out Sarah’s screams as the shadows engulfed her.
The next day, a group of hikers found Sarah’s notebook lying at the edge of the forest, its pages
filled with frantic scrawls: Don’t listen to the voices. Don’t follow them.
The hikers’ curiosity got the better of them, and they stepped into the Whispering Woods. They
were never seen again.

You might also like

pFad - Phonifier reborn

Pfad - The Proxy pFad of © 2024 Garber Painting. All rights reserved.

Note: This service is not intended for secure transactions such as banking, social media, email, or purchasing. Use at your own risk. We assume no liability whatsoever for broken pages.


Alternative Proxies:

Alternative Proxy

pFad Proxy

pFad v3 Proxy

pFad v4 Proxy