Chapter 2: The Beckoning Path

Chapter 2: The Beckoning Path

The canopy of Whisperwood Forest closed over Chloe’s head like a lid on a box, plunging her into a profound and suffocating darkness. The oppressive silence she’d felt at her house was magnified a hundredfold here. It was a physical pressure, a weight on her eardrums that made the frantic thumping of her own heart sound like a drumbeat. All the familiar night sounds—the chirp of crickets, the distant hum of the highway, the rustle of a nocturnal animal—were gone, absorbed by the dense, ancient trees.

She fumbled for her phone, its screen flaring to life with an almost painful intensity. The flashlight beam cut a wavering, narrow cone through the blackness, revealing a world of tangled roots and slick, dark leaves. The path was worse than she’d imagined, a treacherous ribbon of mud that seemed determined to pull the sneakers from her feet with every step. Her practical hoodie and jeans were already getting splattered.

Just ten minutes, she told herself, her breath misting in the cold air. Ten minutes and you're back in the light, eating cookie dough ice cream.

She held the phone out like a talisman, its weak light her only guide. The beam danced over moss-covered trunks that seemed to lean in towards the path, their branches like skeletal fingers grasping for her. Every shadow writhed with imagined threats. She thought of the Glimmermen, the stupid stories the older kids used to tell, and a childish, irrational fear made the hair on her arms stand up. It felt like the forest itself was watching, holding its breath.

Her phone buzzed, the vibration sharp against her palm. She glanced down, grateful for the distraction.

Ava 🎉🍕: Hurry up! I'm starting the movie without you!

Chloe managed a weak smile. Normal. Everything was normal. It was just a creepy stretch of woods. She typed a quick reply, her fingers fumbling on the cold glass.

Chloe: Trying! This path is a swamp.

She’d only taken another ten steps when the phone buzzed again.

Ava 🎉🍕: Did you see the big oak? The one on the left that looks like a hand reaching for you?

Chloe stopped dead, her blood turning to ice. She slowly lifted her phone, sweeping the beam of light to her left. There, just at the edge of the light’s reach, was a massive, gnarled oak tree. One of its thick, bare branches was twisted into a shape unnervingly like a grasping, five-fingered hand.

How could Ava know that?

There was no way. Ava was at her house, a solid ten-minute run from here, on the other side of the forest. She couldn't see this tree. Chloe’s heart hammered against her ribs. Maybe it was a well-known landmark on the path? A lucky guess? But Ava never took this shortcut. She was even more scared of Whisperwood than Chloe was.

A new message popped up before she could even begin to process the last one. The playful emojis were gone.

Ava: Keep moving.

The tone was so different—flat, direct, cold. A chill that had nothing to do with the night air crept down her spine. This didn't feel like Ava. It felt wrong.

"Ava, this isn't funny," she whispered, her voice a pathetic tremor in the crushing silence.

She forced her legs to move, her steps becoming quicker, sloppier. The mud sucked at her sneakers, making a horrible gulping sound with each footfall. The path was getting worse, the ground softening from mud to a thick, grasping bog that clung to her ankles. She felt a frantic urgency, a primal need to get out, to see a streetlight, to hear a car.

BZZZT.

Ava: Don't stop walking. They don't like it when you stand still.

They?

The word pulsed on the screen, seeming to glow brighter than the rest. They? The Glimmermen. The name leaped into her mind, unbidden and terrifying. Her breath hitched in her throat. This was a prank. It had to be. A sick, elaborate prank. Maybe one of Ava’s older brothers had grabbed her phone. That was it. That had to be it.

But the fear was a living thing now, coiling in her gut. She started to jog, her feet slipping and sliding in the mire. The phone’s light bounced crazily, painting the woods in frantic, terrifying strokes of light and shadow. Behind every tree, a figure seemed to lurk. In every rustle of leaves, she heard footsteps.

The boggy ground was winning, slowing her down, dragging at her with surprising strength. With a cry of frustration, her right foot sank deep, the cold mud closing over her ankle, holding her fast. She tugged, panic flaring hot in her chest. She was stuck.

BZZZT.

The phone vibrated in her hand, and she looked down with a sense of utter dread. The message was a single, terrifying command.

Ava: Turn your light off.

No. Absolutely not. The phone was her only shield against the suffocating blackness. Turning it off would be like closing her eyes in a room full of monsters. It was an invitation.

"Who is this?" she typed, her thumbs shaking so badly she had to correct every other letter. "This isn't Ava."

The reply was instantaneous.

Ava: I'm waiting for you, Chloe.

She pulled harder, twisting her leg, grunting with effort. The mud held her like a trap. Tears of frustration and terror welled in her eyes. She was alone, trapped in the dark, and something was playing a horrifying game with her.

She swiped the screen, intending to call 911, call her mom, call anyone. But as her thumb moved, she saw the battery icon in the corner. It was no longer green. It was red. 21%. The fear turned her blood to slush.

That was when she heard it.

It wasn’t the wind. There was no wind. It wasn’t an animal scurrying through the undergrowth. This sound was sharp, deliberate, and chillingly close.

SNAP.

The distinct, sharp crack of a dry twig breaking under a heavy foot.

It came from the darkness just behind her, right at the edge of her wavering light.

Chloe froze, her struggles ceasing instantly. Every muscle in her body went rigid. She wasn't alone. The silence that rushed in after the sound was worse than the sound itself. It was a listening silence, a predator’s silence.

She was no longer being lured.

The hunt had begun.