Season 2, Episode 3: The Forest of Lost Children
990 Words
The trees were suffocating now, their trunks twisted into unnatural shapes as if the forest itself was alive and watching him. Thomas had been walking for hours, the forest growing denser and darker with each step. The air felt thicker, as though the very atmosphere was pressing down on him, pushing him deeper into the woods.
Lily had warned him to stay away. He knew she felt the weight of the curse, and part of him feared the woods had already claimed a piece of her too. But he couldn’t stop now—not when Elaine was still trapped, a hollow version of herself, hidden in that cursed doll.
The path the old woman had spoken of was becoming harder to follow. The trees seemed to shift subtly with every glance, making it impossible to tell which direction he was heading. But then he saw it—a break in the dense thicket, a clearing up ahead, just as she had described.
As he pushed through the last of the underbrush, Thomas stopped dead in his tracks.
The clearing was vast, the sunlight strangely dimming as though the trees themselves blocked out the sky. And in the center of the clearing stood something that made his stomach twist—children. Dozens of them.
They stood in perfect rows, their faces vacant, eyes wide and unblinking, staring straight ahead. Their clothes were old, some of them torn and faded, but what unnerved Thomas the most was how still they were—utterly motionless, as if they were carved from stone.
But they weren’t.
A soft rustle broke the silence. One of the children, a girl no older than Lily, shifted. Her head tilted slightly to one side as if noticing Thomas for the first time.
“Daddy?”
Thomas’ breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t Lily’s voice. But the resemblance was uncanny.
He took a step forward, and suddenly, all the children’s eyes snapped toward him. A collective gasp echoed through the clearing, a chorus of voices whispering the same word:
“Daddy.”
Thomas froze.
Before he could react, one of the children—an older boy, no older than twelve—stepped forward. His eyes were black, hollow voids, and his mouth was stretched into an eerie grin. He spoke, his voice a rasping whisper.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his words dripping with an unnatural sense of foreboding. “The Hollow Mother sees all. She’s already claimed you. Just like us.”
Thomas took a step back. “No... I’m here to find my wife. Elaine. She’s been taken.”
The boy’s grin widened. “Elaine is gone. She’s part of the forest now. Just like all of us. But you can’t take her. Not unless you make a choice. The woods always demand a price.” He tilted his head, his hollow eyes narrowing. “The Hollow Mother will never let her go. You’re too late.”
Thomas shook his head. “I won’t stop. I’ll never stop until I bring her home.”
The boy’s smile faltered, and his eyes flickered to the other children. They all stared at him, their expressions becoming more twisted, their movements jerky as if they were trying to break free of some invisible chain.
“Then you’re just like us,” the boy said softly. “The woods will consume you. It’ll take everything—your memories, your life, your soul. And you’ll never leave.”
Suddenly, the ground beneath Thomas began to shift. The earth trembled, and the trees groaned as if responding to the boy’s words. The children’s bodies twitched, their limbs cracking and contorting, as if they were slowly being pulled back into the soil itself.
The boy’s form wavered, and for a split second, Thomas thought he saw something else—something darker. A shadow, slithering at the edges of his vision, something far more ancient than the boy.
“We were all once human,” the boy whispered, his voice becoming distant, his face starting to crack apart. “Until the woods claimed us. And now you’re next.”
Thomas stumbled backward, panic rising in his chest. “No! I won’t let this happen to me!”
He turned to run, but as he did, the ground beneath his feet collapsed. The earth cracked open, and he fell, tumbling into the darkness.
---
He woke to silence.
Thomas gasped for air, his hands gripping the cold, damp earth. The forest around him was still, eerily quiet. The air was thick with the scent of decay. He had fallen into a pit—a deep, dark hole in the ground.
His heart raced as he scrambled to his feet, but the moment he stood, he was hit with the realization that he wasn’t alone.
Around him, shadows moved.
Shapes formed from the darkness—figures that had no faces, no features, just a void where their eyes should be. Their limbs were long and twisted, and their movements were slow and deliberate.
The trees above him creaked and groaned, their branches stretching impossibly low, the air thick with something sinister.
And then he heard it—the whispering.
It came from all around him. Low voices, distant but growing louder. The voices of the children.
“Help us… Save us…”
But they weren’t just children.
They were the lost souls of the woods.
And now, Thomas realized with growing horror, they were calling for him.
- Writer
