The forest has a way of breaking you.
Not with claws, not with teeth, not even with the things that move in the shadows. It doesn't need to. It waits. It whispers. It watches. And it makes you doubt everything — your senses, your friends, your own mind.
By the sixth night, I was beginning to understand just how deep its influence went.
---
I wasn't alone anymore. Or at least, I didn't think I was.
Kyle had reappeared—or something wearing him had. I found him standing silently in the mist, eyes unfocused, muttering to himself. His face flickered in and out of recognition. One moment it was Kyle, terrified and human; the next, it was a hollow mask of pale flesh and empty eyes.
"Ethan…" he whispered. "They're here. Watching. Waiting…"
I took a cautious step back. "Kyle? What happened? Where's Rachel?"
He didn't answer. The whispers rose around us, overlapping in impossible harmony. Names. Threats. Lures. "Play with us… Play with us…"
I realized then that the forest didn't just take. It infected. It fed on fear, but it also twisted your mind until you were as dangerous to each other as to whatever lurked in the shadows.
---
We stumbled across another clearing. Or at least, I thought it was a clearing. The fog shifted like smoke, rearranging the trees, making the ground feel unfamiliar beneath our feet.
Kyle collapsed against a fallen trunk, trembling. "They… they told me…" His voice broke. "Told me you'll betray me. Told me you'll leave me to them…"
I stared at him, disbelief mixing with panic. "Kyle, I'm not going anywhere. We survive together. We fight together."
But even as I said it, a cold chill twisted in my gut. I didn't know if he was speaking for himself, or if the forest was speaking through him.
---
Hours passed in tense silence. Every rustle of leaves, every snapping branch, every whisper in the fog made my heart leap.
And then I saw it.
Rachel. Or her shape, at least. She was standing at the edge of the mist, barely visible. Her hair matted, her clothes torn, eyes wide and unblinking. She raised her hand, beckoning.
"Kyle… Ethan…" her voice was soft, almost hypnotic. "Come… play…"
My stomach twisted. That wasn't Rachel. That wasn't her. It was the forest wearing her face. And yet… I felt the pull. The longing. The part of me that wanted to run to her, to be reunited with the friend I'd lost.
I shook my head violently. "No. Not falling for it. Not now."
---
We kept moving, trying to find the SUV or the path we had entered by. But everything was wrong. Distances stretched, paths twisted. What had taken five minutes yesterday now felt like an hour. The forest was alive, bending space and time, forcing us deeper.
Kyle and I argued, barely noticing it.
"You don't understand!" he shouted. "They tell you! They know! I saw it! I saw what you'll do!"
"I won't betray you!" I yelled back. "Stop listening to it! Stop listening to them!"
But the whispers were stronger than reason. Every doubt, every fear, every memory of guilt or shame or anger they could twist, they whispered it. And in that twisting, our minds frayed further.
---
Night fell again.
We found shelter in a shallow hollow beneath a giant tree, its roots twisted into a hollow space just big enough for us to curl up in. I lay against the hard earth, trying to stay awake, trying to keep Kyle awake, but exhaustion and fear were heavier than the roots pressing over us.
Kyle muttered in his sleep. Words I didn't recognize, some human, some not. Occasionally, he'd jerk awake and stare into the shadows.
"They're outside," he whispered. "Watching. Waiting. Play…"
I clenched my fists, jaw tight. "Not tonight," I hissed. "Not tonight."
But I didn't have control. Not really. The forest had already claimed that.
---
I dreamed.
I was back in the cabin. The walls were carved with faces screaming silently, and every face looked like someone I knew. Rachel. Mark. Sarah. Kyle. Me.
They were whispering, chanting, calling. "Play… play… play…"
And then one of them stepped forward. It wore Kyle's face. But its eyes were hollow, black as midnight.
"Ethan," it said, grinning, "you'll betray them. You'll leave them. You always do."
I woke screaming. Kyle was gone.
I stumbled outside into the fog.
And there he was. Or rather, what I thought was him. Only he wasn't Kyle. Not entirely. His movements were wrong — jerky, twitching, like he was being controlled by something unseen.
"Ethan…" he said again, voice a mix of Kyle and the forest itself. "Come… play…"
I ran.
---
The next hours were a blur of running, hiding, calling names. I found traces of the others — scraps of clothing, trampled mud, and bones carefully arranged along trees like markers. Each one was a warning, a promise, a lure.
I realized then what the forest wanted:
It didn't just want to kill us. It wanted us to destroy each other first. To tear apart trust, sanity, and hope before it claimed us completely.
And it was working.
---
By dawn, I was alone. Truly alone.
The whispers faded with the first light, but I knew they were still there, waiting. Watching. Lurking. And I also knew something else:
I couldn't trust myself.
Because in Hollow Pines, even your own thoughts could betray you.
And the forest would wait.