The Shadows inside the woods
827 Words
Everyone sat close around the bonfire now, their earlier excitement replaced with a growing sense of dread. The crackle of the flames offered little comfort. Even the woods, once alive with the hum of night creatures, had gone eerily silent.
The group couldn't stop thinking about what had happened just a few hours earlier.
Lauren and Tiana had gone into the woods, only for both of them to return pale and shaken, their words tumbling over each other in fear.
“There were shadows,” Lauren had said, her voice trembling. “Black… fast. Like they were gliding between the trees.”
Tiana had nodded, still catching her breath. “We weren’t sure at first. Thought it was just our imagination. But then… they stopped.”
The group had listened, wide-eyed, as the two girls described what they saw.
“They were tall,” Tiana continued. “And their eyes—red. Glowing. Like burning coals.”
“But the worst part,” Lauren said, her voice barely above a whisper, “was when they started changing.”
“Changing into us,” Tiana finished. “They copied us. Perfectly. Our faces, our clothes… even the way we moved.”
That’s when the screaming started. That’s when they ran back to the van without looking back.
Now, hours later, their voices echoed in everyone’s minds.
No one had an explanation. But deep down, they all felt it—something was out there. Watching. Waiting.
And whatever it was… it already knew their faces.
The group, still shaken, made their way back to the van. It was only a few steps from the bonfire clearing, but every crack of a twig underfoot now sounded like a warning. No one spoke much—just exchanged uneasy glances as they climbed inside.
They had all agreed: they wouldn’t go to the resort. Whatever was in those woods, whatever Lauren and Tiana saw, it was enough. Once the sun came up, they’d head back to town and never look back.
They just had to make it through the night.
With the van locked and their flashlights off, darkness swallowed the windows. They curled into sleeping bags and hoodies, trying to find warmth and comfort in the cramped space.
No one really slept.
Outside, the silence pressed against the van like a heavy weight—no wind, no insects, no movement. Just stillness.
What they didn’t know… was that it was already too late.
When they had crossed that worn, unmarked road near the woods hours ago, they hadn’t just entered a remote area. They had crossed into something else entirely.
A place layered over reality.
A realm where time bent and rules shifted. A realm that wanted them there.
And it wouldn’t let them go easily.
Leaving wouldn’t be as simple as turning back. No matter how straight the road looked, or how familiar the map seemed, there would always be something wrong—off—just enough to keep them circling.
A whisper in the trees.
A shadow across the path.
A version of themselves staring back.
The van stayed still.
Inside, breath fogged up windows. Someone coughed—soft, muffled. Another shifted in their sleeping bag, the nylon rustling far too loud in the silence.
Aya lay curled near the back, pressed against the cold metal wall. Her fingers clutched the locket beneath her sweater. She hadn’t opened it. Not yet.
Outside, gravel crunched.
Everyone froze.
No one said a word.
Crunch.
Then again. Crunch. Crunch. Closer. Slow. Deliberate. Like footsteps on the path leading to the clearing.
Lauren sat up first. “Did you hear that?”
Max shushed her sharply. “Don’t move.”
Aya didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
A hand reached slowly for one of the flashlights. Someone fumbled—and it clattered to the floor.
Outside, the footsteps stopped.
Then—
> Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three slow taps on the van’s back door.
Tiana whimpered.
“Don’t open it,” Mika whispered, gripping Lance’s arm. “No one open it.”
> Knock. Knock. Knock.
Again, at the side window.
Aya’s eyes darted toward it, but the glass had fogged too much. She couldn’t see. But she could feel it—someone standing just on the other side. Watching.
Then a voice.
Soft. Familiar.
“Aya,” it called.
She froze.
It was her own voice.
“Aya,” it said again, gentle. “Come out. I’m scared.”
Aya’s throat went dry. The others stared at her, eyes wide.
“I didn’t say that,” she whispered. “I didn’t—”
Outside, her voice continued.
“Please. It’s cold. You can trust me. I’m you.”
Max grabbed the flashlight and flicked it on—aimed it at the side window.
Everyone gasped.
There, staring in at them through the fogged glass…
was Aya.
Or something that looked exactly like her.
Except for the eyes.
They glowed red.
- Writer
