STORY STARTER
Inspired by Sariah Barlow
Even the wolves donât come out at night because theyâre afraid of what hides in the shadows: being banished here is worse than a death sentence.
Forest Killers
Even the wolves donât come out at night because theyâre afraid of what lives in the shadows: being banished here is a fate worse than death.
Yet here I am, treading through these dangerous woodlands all because of a stupid dare.
âThere you go, guys! I did it!â On the narrow path, I make my way back to the end ge of the clearing, to the place shadows donât dare to reach. The bright echos of my friendsâ laughter cease to be heard as I realize they are nowhere to be found. âHello? Taylor! Dakota!â
No answer. Silence is left to remain.
âCome on out! Youâre not funny!â
A loud snap is heard. Not from the bushes or the dark undergrowth, but from below my foot. A small, plastic hair clip in the shape of a strawberry breaks beneath my weight. The shards of the cheap material scatter in the dry dirt.
My heart pounds in my chest as I cry, âTaylor! Dakota!â
I run further into the clearing, my knees ready to give way. Whispers slice through the air, speaking unintelligible words.
âWhoâs there?â
The whispers continue.
Why did I have to play truth or dare? We could have done anything else, anything that wouldnât risk putting innocent children in danger. My eyes dart every which way until I see two silhouettes standing in the distance as if waiting for someone.
âThere you are! Didnât you hear me calling you?â
No response. Not even a movement.
âEarth to Taylor and Dakota!â
They inch closer, revealing their true form. Nothing but shadow from head to toe. Chills run through me, constricting me of movement. Their bony claws slash through me, then pull out before I can blink.
The sight of my blood oozing onto the grass sends me into a dark unconsciousness.
I awaken to nothing.