Chương 18: Chapter 18
Holly clutched her worn backpack, fingers trembling as she peered up at the dense canopy above. The mountain trail was rough and silent, far too quiet for her liking. She had walked for hours, her only company the crunch of dead leaves underfoot. The stillness around her pressed down, wrapping her in an eerie calm that felt off, like something was lurking just beyond the edge of her vision, watching.
A fog crept over the path ahead, rolling between the trees. Holly hesitated, something about it filled her with a strange dread. She'd hiked this mountain before, but never had it felt so… wrong. Every few steps, she thought she heard whispers—just faint murmurs that seemed to echo from nowhere. She looked around, blinking against the shadows, but she was alone.
The fog thickened as she continued up the trail, swallowing the path behind her. Every tree she passed looked more twisted, the bark almost resembling faces—silent, hollow-eyed faces that stared without expression. Holly shook her head, dismissing it as a trick of her mind, but her stomach churned with something close to fear.
An odd scent hit her then, faint and decaying, like rotting leaves but somehow worse. She pressed on, breathing shallowly to avoid it, but it seemed to seep into her skin, her bones. Her steps grew slower, her limbs felt heavy, but she forced herself to keep moving, determined to reach the summit.
Suddenly, she heard a sound—a soft rustling behind her, unmistakable. She whipped around, eyes scanning the trail, but there was nothing. Only fog and shadows. She cursed under her breath and kept going, faster now, heart thudding in her chest. Yet the rustling followed, closer, almost dragging at her heels.
Then she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Holly froze, breath held, too scared to turn around. The silence grew thick, and then, faintly, she heard breathing. Slow and shallow, not her own. Her body trembled as she turned, and there it was: a figure stood there, half-hidden in the fog, pale face hollow, eyes black as night. It wore an old-fashioned coat, ragged and torn, the fabric rotting and damp. She gasped, stumbled back, tripping over a rock, and hit the ground hard.
The figure moved closer, each step soundless, floating almost, eyes fixed on her with something like hunger. Holly scrambled to her feet, but her leg felt wrong, twisted from the fall. She limped backward, dragging herself away from the thing, but it came closer, reaching out one skeletal hand. She tried to scream, but the sound caught in her throat.
It reached her, and those icy fingers brushed her skin, sending waves of cold down her spine. Her vision blurred as the pain gripped her, like her insides were being pulled out piece by piece. The world spun, and she felt herself collapsing, sinking into the earth, her body growing colder by the second. The last thing she saw was that face, staring down at her, hollow and endless, as the fog swallowed her whole.
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực