The Vanishing Path

CHAPTER1

The moon was less hanging, its yellow glow used to cut through the thick umbrella of the dark wood. Walking like a skeleton's hands, the shade spread in the forest for a long time and on the floor of the forest. Lisa adjusted her backpack strips and flowed her flashlight beam with a further narrow path. This was his first single growth, something that he had dreamed of doing for years, but the oppressive silence of the forest set his veins on the edge. There was no sound of birds chirping or cricket songs, only due to the lack of leaves and the topical rustle of wind. The solitude that was now looked very free. Dark-wood One had a reputation. It was not about normal urban legends about demons or ghosts - no, this place was known for some sub-region, more frightening. People disappeared here. Not enough, and often not enough to create widespread nervousness, but enough that the locals warned the hikers to stay away. Lisa warned. She was a logical thinker, someone who proud himself at his rationality. There was nothing in the forest, but trees, animals and perhaps a very active imagination. He refused to fear the stories. The mark she was following was marked and maintained well, but it was not particularly exciting. Lisa was expecting something unique, something that would make this journey memorable. As he scored a turn on the way, his flashlight caught something strange - an unconscious glow. She stopped, entered into the dark. There, barely appearing under a carpet of falling leaves, there was an unprecedented scar that flicked to faint into the moonlight. It was not on his map, and he did not see that he had read in any guide. Curiosity collided with him. She knew that she should stay on the main path - the last thing she wanted by being lost in the forest - but the glow was mesmerizing. It seemed that he was promised adventure and mystery. Lisa used to hesitate for only a moment before stepping on the footpath. The deeper she went to become a forest. The trees came closer together, their ugly branches were unnaturally rotating, and the wind cools down, each breath was dumping in front of him. The flashlight is flicker, its beam was weakening as if the battery was dying, although he had just replaced them. She trembled and tightened her jacket around her, which accelerated her speed. After about half an hour, he stumbled on a clearing. First, he thought that it was just another empty patch of the forest, but then his flashlight grabbed the brightness of some metal. He stepped closer, his heart intensified in his chest. An abandoned camp lay in front of him. A torn tent bends against the ground, his poles bent and broke. A rusty kettle rested in the midst of a scatter of luggage - a damp sleeping bag, a crushed canteen, and a piece of air-fluttering paper.

Lisa kneels and picked up the paper. The words were scattered in right-handed handwriting, barely well -known: *"They are watching." One Chill dropped his spine. She quickly stood up, scanning the clearing for any signal of movement. The forest seemed to stop its breath. Then he heard this infallible crunch in the footsteps behind him. Through around, Lisa brightened her flashlight in the trees. The beam weakened and collapsed, casting the right shadow, who danced beyond the underbrush. There was nothing. No one but the map was clear, deliberately done. "Hello?" he called, his voice was trembling. The word resonated through silence, unanswered. He gave air to his ears, listening to any voice beyond the wind. Nothing. Lisa's heart ran when he turned backwards. He determined to withdraw his steps for security. But the moment he took a step, it froze. His flashlight published something that he had not seen earlier - a handprint. It stood fresh and moist against the mossy trunk of a tree, as if someone had pressed his hand against the bark only some time ago. The fingers pointed to the edge of the clearing, where a group of bushes uncovered what was beyond. Lisa hesitates, fear of fear. She knew that she should leave, but some of the handprints forced her to follow. He pushed the bushes to one side, showing a narrow path that wounds deep into the forest. At the end of the path, barely appearing in the moonlight, a door was standing. It was bizarre - out of cost. The door was freestanding, not connected to any structure, its wooden surface was torn. The rusted hinges put it together, and its handle was tarnished with age. Lisa approached carefully, her flashlight twinkling as she came closer. She reached out and touched the handle. The moment his fingers brushed the metal, the surrounding air seemed to shift. The wind stopped, and the forest fell into an unnatural silence. Turning his hand in Lisa's heart, he handled it and pushed the door open. Inside, it was dark - deep, impermeable, and absolute. She hesitated, her instinct screaming to turn her back. But before he proceeded, something cold brushed against his hand. He whispered around, shone his flashlight in the clearing. The beam did not illuminate anything other than Shadow, yet the sensation to be seen was heavy. Lisa stumbled back, her breathing hurdled. She turned back to the door, only to find her. The path behind him also disappeared, and was replaced by more trees. The nervousness grew through him because he realized that he was completely disoriented. She roams in circles, discovering any signal of the scar followed by her, but the forest swallowed it completely. A whisper broke the silence. She was unconscious, almost agitated, but it sent a shiver to Lisa's backbone. The voice was soft and sweet, yet it had an edge of malice. "Why did you come here?" Lisa's flashlight slipped and went out, immersing her in the dark.