The warning came from someone no one expected.
Cynthia was leaving the library when the old security guard stopped her. His name was Mr. Okorie—a quiet man who had worked at the school longer than most of the teachers. He rarely spoke unless necessary, and when he did, it was usually about rules.
This time, he didn't sound like a man enforcing rules.
He sounded afraid.
"Miss Cynthia," he called softly.
She turned. "Yes, sir?"
He looked around first, as though making sure no one was listening. Then he leaned closer. "You and your friends… this trip you're planning."
Cynthia's heart skipped. "How did you—?"
"People talk," he interrupted. "Especially when young people laugh too loudly about places that should not be joked about."
A chill crawled up her spine. "What about it?"
Mr. Okorie hesitated. His eyes were tired, haunted. "That forest you plan to visit… it swallows people. Not every year. Not loudly. But it does."
Cynthia laughed nervously. "Sir, it's just stories. Rumors."
He shook his head slowly. "Rumors are how truth learns to hide."
Her palms were damp. "Have people really died there?"
"I didn't say died," he replied. "Some never came back. Some came back wrong."
Before she could ask what that meant, he straightened up, mask of professionalism sliding back into place.
"Be careful," he said simply, then walked away.
Cynthia stood frozen long after he disappeared down the hallway.
The same evening, Ethan officially became someone else.
The school assembly was meant to be boring—announcements, disciplinary warnings, upcoming exams. No one paid attention until the principal cleared his throat.
"We have a new student joining us today," he announced. "Transferred from abroad. Please make him feel welcome."
A boy stepped forward.
He wore the same uniform as everyone else, yet something about him felt… off. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, calculating. He scanned the room once—slowly—before settling somewhere near Cynthia.
When his gaze met hers, her chest tightened for reasons she couldn't explain.
"His name is Ethan Rowe," the principal continued.
Ian—now Ethan—smiled politely.
Applause followed. Cynthia clapped mechanically, her attention locked on him. There was something unsettling in the way he held eye contact just a second too long, like he already knew her.
After assembly, Violet nudged Cynthia. "Did you see him?"
"Yes," Cynthia muttered.
"He's fine," Violet whispered. "But scary-fine. Like the kind that ruins lives."
Cynthia didn't respond.
Because deep down, she felt it too.
That night, the first real attempt to stop the trip happened.
Alex was packing supplies when his phone rang. Unknown number.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then breathing.
Slow. Deliberate.
"Who is this?" Alex snapped.
A distorted voice spoke. "If you go… you will not all return."
Alex laughed. "Nice try."
The line went dead.
Moments later, his phone buzzed again.
A picture.
It showed their destination—the forest—taken at night.
In the foreground, carved crudely into a tree, were words that made his blood run cold:
TURN BACK
Alex didn't sleep.
By morning, Cynthia had her own message.
A video.
Shaky. Grainy.
It showed a fish pendant hanging from a tree branch, swaying gently in the wind.
Then the camera panned down.
Fresh soil.
Something buried beneath it.
The video ended with text flashing briefly across the screen:
THE TREASURE IS HUNGRY
Cynthia dropped her phone.
By midday, panic buzzed beneath forced laughter.
Alex wanted to postpone.
Violet accused him of being dramatic.
Some suggested it was a prank.
Ethan said nothing—only watched.
And when Cynthia finally said, "Maybe we shouldn't go," everyone turned to her.
The silence was heavy.
Then Violet scoffed. "You're scared because of some stupid messages?"
Cynthia opened her mouth… then closed it.
She couldn't explain the weight pressing on her chest. Couldn't explain how every instinct screamed danger.
And so, against fear.
Against warnings.
Against signs.
They decided to go anyway.
Some mistakes don't happen because people are ignorant.
They happen because fear comes too late.