THE FOREST OF THE UNKNOWN: THE SACRED TALE

Chapter 5

But fate was not kind. Just when I thought I could pass into the unknown with my last moments unseen, a sound erupted that tore through the stillness of that cursed world. A sound so vile… so strange… it seemed carved from the very fabric of nightmare.

It was neither a scream nor a roar—something in-between, as if a thousand metallic voices had been forced through a narrow tunnel of bone and rage. It wasn’t loud in the usual sense, but it thundered through my chest like a heartbeat from hell.

I snapped my eyes open in horror. And I saw them. Both of them—those unnatural, twisting creatures—were leaping into the air, bodies angled downward like rams preparing to smash their skulls into bone. Their eyes—those single, centered, lidless eyes—were fixed directly on me with a gaze so sharp it could slice through spirit. There was no hesitation. No misfire. No mercy.

They had locked onto me. Their mouths—those eerie, round, ball-like holes—opened as if preparing to release something worse than that dreadful sound. The longer I looked, the more I realized that their whole form pulsed, as if their very bodies were trying to tear through the air to reach me faster. I wanted to run. I needed to. But my legs refused to move. My entire body was rooted to the ground like a tree that had grown in the wrong place. Even blinking felt impossible. I was stuck—trapped in this living nightmare—with nothing but curiosity and horror swirling in my soul.

And somehow, in the midst of that frozen terror… I wanted to know. I wanted to see it happen. I was already too far gone, too broken to pretend otherwise. I had to witness it. I had to see the end. Whatever it was—whatever it meant—I wanted to know the shape of my own destruction.

They came. And as they charged, their motion became too fast to track. The two beings moved like a single force, spiraling toward me, their limbs blurring into nothingness. I could no longer see legs or arms—only a fluid, twisting current of motion that looked like water dancing in the air.

It was like a splash of something—not quite liquid, not quite wind—rising and curling in a violent circular motion. A storm, but with form. A tide, but with intent. They no longer walked or leaped—they became the very energy of impact. And they were coming for me.

Suddenly—without warning—they both struck me.

Not with hands. Not with claws. But with force. A kind of violent, invisible puncture that drove through my chest like sharpened thunder. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even gasp. I just stood there, eyes wide, mouth frozen open, as something fierce and strange tore into me. It felt as though life itself was leaking out of me, slipping through my pores like sand through fingers.

And yet… I was still breathing. I was alive. That fact shocked me more than the impact itself. I staggered backward, clutched my chest, and looked around wildly, expecting to see them hovering nearby—waiting to strike again or finish what they’d started.

But there was nothing. No movement. No sound.

The only thing present was sunlight—gentle and gold, spreading calmly across the strange land like nothing had ever happened.

I was alone. Completely and utterly alone. For a moment, I stood in a daze, unable to process anything. Was I dreaming? Was this some cruel illusion playing tricks on me? Was I already dead, trapped in some limbo between worlds?

Everything felt distant. Unreal. The colors of the world around me were brighter than usual—almost too vivid to be natural. And then… I noticed it. Something had changed. Something in me had changed.

I straightened slowly—and realized I was taller. Not by much. But it was unmistakable. My limbs had stretched. My bones felt longer. My body, lighter—but stronger. I bent down instinctively and lifted a large stone that would’ve taken two of me to carry on a normal day. I held it effortlessly. Like paper. Like nothing.

I blinked hard. My skin shimmered faintly in the sun. What was happening to me? I needed answers. I needed someone to tell me what I had become. I didn’t even know where I was. I looked around again, hoping for a sign, a sound, a familiar voice—but the silence remained unbroken. I thought of my parents—desperate to see them, to know if they were safe. And that’s when it happened.

Before my eyes, the world around me blurred. Then it cleared—and there, right in front of me, as though projected onto an invisible screen, was a moving scene. A vision. A window into another place. It was my family. My parents… my siblings… even a few distant relatives. They were all there, gathered together beneath the soft glow of an evening sun. And they were weeping. Some knelt, others stood, but all were in mourning. It didn’t take me long to understand why. They thought I was dead.