The Dark Forest
It doesn’t matter how sunny the day is, the forest is always dark. Always like the sky above is a deep grey. Any light is dim, only able to bring clarity to three steps ahead of you.
During the day, it’s quiet. There’s barely any creatures scurrying around, the wind barely moves the trees. No, they move on their own when annoyed. At night though… the forest comes alive with noises and sounds. Some familiar, the howls of wolves, cries of birds. But the others? Hideous shrieks of being that sound like they were once human, feral growls that follow any foolish enough to enter, and shrill cries that might be birds, or something else. Rustling in the bushes that seems to get close and then far away.
Everyone knows something is wrong with the forest, and yet, people still enter. Pulled by some dark, fierce curiosity. There are those that seem to have the forest running through their veins. Those that don’t shy from the edge when the creatures scream, that can’t seem to take their eyes away from the edge. They stand at the start of the paths leading into the forest, paths made by the forest itself. No human would ever make an entrance to that place.
Most who enter, never come back. The few who do, well, they’re changed forever. Something has left them or something is there that wasn’t part of them before. Their eyes are always empty, like any life has been drained from them. When they die, you can’t find the bodies. They were reclaimed by the forest in death, though how is unknown…
Young people and children always dare their peers to go a few steps down the paths into the forest. Most can’t do it, their skin crawls before they can ever reach the treeline. It feels like the forest is watching with bated breath, waiting to consume them. Once, people tried to send sacrifices to it, in an attempt to keep themselves safe, but they were fools.
How do I know that? Because any village that's tried that ends up a ghost town. You can’t satisfy greed by feeding it. The forest claimed them too, added them to its darkness. Its hunger became their hunger, or, that’s what other stories say.
It’s odd when you think about it, all these stories and we still don’t know what happens in the forest. We know people usually don’t come out, the few who do are changed forever. But, what exactly happens in there to cause it? Storytellers like myself often wonder, we try to make sense of it through the fantastic and improbable. But, what if it’s not either of those? What if it’s simply an old forest that we made a demon? The disappearance caused by wild animals who were hunting, the ones who come back and disappear at death? People with madness that got blamed on the forest.
Of course, you don’t believe that, do you? I don’t blame you, the noises alone are enough to cast doubt on it being normal. Not to mention the paths no one ever recalls making. The ghost towns, the mysterious callings to it.
Oh? The Storytellers, like myself? The ones who show up and no one seems to know where we came from? Many people think we’re tied to the forest, that we come from it. I’ve heard people say that we’re the disappeared who survived and made the forest our home. That we go to towns at the edge and try to lure people in like a form of the Pied Piper. I’ll leave the decision of what we are to you. I don’t much care, so long as you’ll listen to my stories.
Stories, maybe that’s what gave the forest its power. A few strange things happened and people spun tales that spiraled out of control and made the forest what it is today. Well, we’ll never know, the first stories are so old anyone who was around at their creation is long since dust. No use in lamenting it, is there?
Oh, your parents are calling, little ones. Hurry now, I’ll still be here tomorrow with more stories to fill your young minds. Tales of heroes and villains, strange creatures, and the forest. Now run along, you don’t want to keep your families waiting, be swift, little ones. Eat your dinner, sleep, and ignore the fog from the forest that creeps into town at night. Goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow and tell you more stories. Goodbye…