The Forest [1]

Camping in the wilderness is one of the few joys I have in life. To get away from the monotony of my corporate job, and live free in nature, under the stars. Every now and then, I pick a random forest within a 100 mile radius, and spend a week there with nothing but a tent and the clothes on my back.

This is the story of my final camping trip, and the last days of Reality.

Note from the Author: This is my first attempt at writing horror. If you have any pointers on how to improve my work, please don't hesitate to let me know! Otherwise, please enjoy!

~~ Tori

Everything seemed normal when I first arrived. The terrain wasn't ideal, and it took quite a few hours to find a suitable spot to pitch my tent. The landscape was beautiful - rolling hills saturated with tall trees that swayed softly in the wind.

The chirping of birds overhead and the soft rustling of leaves were the only sounds around me, and I felt truly at peace. This was nature in its purest, most beautiful form.

It wasn't until Dusk that things started to feel off. It was raining, rather heavily - yet there was not a single cloud in the crimson sky. There were several flashes of lightning, but they were far enough away that the thunder wasn't audible. Despite this unnatural weather, I still managed to steal a few fitful hours of sleep.

Around midnight, I was abruptly awoken by a shrill scream in the distance. It was not the kind of sound a human might produce - it was too layered, as if an orchestra of violinists had suddenly and violently scratched their bows along the instrument's strings. The sound was so horrifying and disturbing to me, that I found myself sweating profusely, with my heart catching in my neck.

I crawled out of my tent, as if I was a teen in one of those old slasher movies. The rain had intensified greatly, turning the once soft soil into a thick, sticky mud. Through the darkness, in the distance, there was an eerie, orange glow, as if a great wildfire was raging throughout the forest.

If, at the time, I had known the meaning of this sight, I should have immediately abandoned my tent and fled the forest. My instincts told me to do the same. However, my curiosity and - perhaps - stupidity got the better of me and so I crept towards the glow, slowly over the course of the next half hour.

I eventually reached the edge of a clearing. Past the tree line was a sight so horrific that I couldn't even take my eyes off of it. In the centre of the clearing was a large bonfire, with several people bound to it, writhing in pain and letting out coarse, dying screams.

Surrounding the bonfire were, as I counted, 10 hooded figures, chanting words in a language that I had never heard before. It sounded ancient, unnatural, and each word sent a horrific chill down my spine. I don't know how long I crouched there, rooted to the spot in a strange mix of shock and terror. This horrific display of brutality lasted for at least ten minutes, until the last of the victims had finally grown still.

Shortly after the scene fell quiet, there was a great gust of wind that extinguished the raging bonfire, casting the clearing into darkness. The bonfire seemed to transform, turning into a formless mass darker than the night that surrounded me. Gazing into this massless void, my mind was overwhelmed by screaming whispers in inhuman tongues. The hooded figures that once surrounded the bonfire where now still, and silent, staring at the great darkness in front of them. The darkness transformed again, and ten tentacles, as black as the rest of the mass, slowly grew from its imperceptible surface.

Each one found its way to a hooded figure, engulfing its head completely. Each figure began to convulse, and let out a scream that I did not hear, but felt echoing throughout every part of my body. My eyes were still transfixed on these men, who were now falling to the ground. It was as if this formless void had sucked the very life-force from these people.

It was at this point that a wave of panic washed over me, causing me to turn and run. The ground beneath my feet felt unstable, as if reality itself was crumbling beneath my feet. The journey back to my tent felt like an age- though I do not know how long I was truly running for. I immediately packed my backpack, and resolved to leave the forest at first light.

This is part 1 of a new short horror serial by Tori, called 'The Forest'. If you enjoyed this entry, please leave a comment and follow me to stay up to date! I am still new to writing fiction, especially horror, so if you have any suggestions to improve my writing please let me know!