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"The Whispers in Black Hollow"
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Jason had heard the legends of Black Hollow Forest all his life—how the trees whispered secrets after midnight, how people went in but didn’t always come out. But legends were just stories, right?
He entered the forest at dusk, his flashlight flickering as he followed the old hunting trail. He wasn’t scared. Not yet. The deeper he walked, the quieter it became. Even the birds stopped singing. Only the crunch of leaves beneath his boots kept him company—until he realized... they weren’t the only footsteps.
He turned. No one.
"Probably just an animal," he muttered, pushing forward.
Then the whispering began.
At first, it was faint—just a breeze through the trees. But it grew louder, clearer. Words. His name.
"Jaaaason…"
His heart pounded. He swung his flashlight in all directions. Nothing but gnarled trees and shadows. He tried to retrace his steps, but the trail was gone, swallowed by the forest. Every direction looked the same. Wrong.
He called out for help, his voice cracking. The forest answered with laughter—soft, cold, not human.
Branches clawed at his clothes like hands. The flashlight died. Darkness fell.
Then he saw them—figures between the trees. Pale faces. Hollow eyes. They whispered again, closer this time.
“Stay with us…”
Jason ran.
He never saw the roots rise from the ground, wrapping around his ankles, dragging him down. The last thing he heard before everything went black was his own voice—whispering from behind him.
They say if you go near Black Hollow at night, you can still hear him screaming.
But only if the forest lets you leave.