THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE CHILDREN

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the narrow dirt road that wound through dense forest. Ben’s old SUV rattled and bumped along the uneven path, packed with luggage and the faint sound of kids chatting excitedly from the backseat. Beside him, Margaret adjusted the rearview mirror, glancing back at their children, Lucy and Spencer, who were squabbling playfully but unusually subdued. "Almost there," Ben said, a hint of excitement in his voice. It had been months since the four of them had been on a trip with their old friends Ellie and Thomas, who were following in their own car just behind. Life’s weight—work stress, marital strains—had settled heavily on both couples, and this weekend getaway was supposed to be a fresh start, a way to reconnect and forget the outside world. When they arrived at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods with towering pines brushing the sky, Ellie greeted them with a warm smile, though there was an edge of weariness behind her eyes. Thomas unloaded their car silently, his brow furrowed as he checked the surroundings. “It’s perfect,” Margaret breathed, looking around. The cabin was rustic but cozy, with a stone fireplace and a porch that overlooked a small clearing. Not far beyond, the land dropped sharply into a pit of jagged rocks and ancient ruins, remnants of something older than anyone could explain. After unpacking, the group gathered around a fire pit outside. The kids ran ahead to explore the edge of the forest, but Lucy and Spencer lagged behind. Ben noticed their quietness. “Hey, you two okay?” he asked, crouching to their level. Lucy looked up, her blue eyes wide and unnervingly still. “We want to see the pit,” she said softly. Ben smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “The pit? It’s dangerous, you know. We’re just here to have fun.” Spencer nodded, but he didn’t speak. Later that night, as the adults talked over drinks inside the cabin, the children were nowhere to be found. Panic began to rise until they were spotted standing at the edge of the pit, silhouetted against the moonlight. Their faces were calm—too calm. Ellie called out, “Come back inside, now!” The kids obeyed, but Margaret caught Lucy whispering something she couldn’t quite hear—an eerie chant, like a lullaby in a forgotten language. Ben shook his head, trying to dismiss the unease settling in his gut. “They’re just playing. Kids get scared of the dark.” But the unease lingered. That night, Ben dreamed he was falling into the pit, grasping at something unseen before waking with a start. Outside his window, Lucy’s pale face appeared, eyes reflecting an otherworldly glow. She smiled. “Come with us,” she whispered. Ben blinked and she was gone.