Though not particularly ecstatic to witness what lay beyond the foliage, I swallowed the saliva that had gathered in my mouth and stepped towards the woods. Naturally, my mind alerted me of the danger of my actions. A strong sensation filled within the pit of my stomach, urging me to flee. It took every ounce of willpower I had to ignore it.

Slowly and steadily I approached, gathering more and more distance from my home, getting closer to the underbrush. I felt the sensation of rain cease as my body went numb. Finally, I found myself on the outskirts of the woods.

The soaked flora grasped at my clothing like tiny fingers that desperately clung to every thread. The flashlight proved most ineffective as its once protective glow seemed to fade quite exponentially. Undeterred, I persisted onward. I had been in the woods many times, although never at night. In the darkness, the surroundings were unfamiliar to me. With each step, a moist leaf or twig underneath my boot squished and snapped. My body shuddered with each passing minute of my aimless trek, although whether this was caused by a growing level of adrenaline or the cold I was uncertain of.

The eeriness of being in an unfamiliar place at night has no equal. I felt my toes curl as the wind that once violently rattled the vegetation quieted, and the rain that persistently beat against my body turned into a drizzle. The branches elegantly swayed in the night, caressed by the wind and sprinkling water droplets from the night sky. The soft melody of the crickets ceased, and I found myself startled by how quiet the forest had become. As unsettling as the dark was, the persistent lack of noise can invoke the strongest fears lurking in a man's soul.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I stood alone in the quiet woods, the only audible sound being the soft tapping of water falling to the ground. I could hear my thoughts, my breath, and my heartbeat. I held no desire to move, rather I felt inclined to stand and be still. Still, as the nature surrounding me. Still as the firm oak that stood before me, serving as an impenetrable wall of wood. And in the stillness of the night, my ears picked up a very familiar noise.

It was a voice and a very raspy, sickly one indeed. One that made me forget the silence I was surrounded by. A voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A voice that compelled me to run, yet I found myself paralyzed. It was the weeping that had drawn me out of my home in the first place. The cry sounded like a man... and yet, no man should have ever been able to make such a sound no matter how dire the situation he was in. It was that of terror and pain, yet I could have sworn I heard slight giggles amidst the crying.

I stood, for at the time that was all I felt I could do. I shuddered as the cry overcame the sound of the wind and became all I could hear. It dragged out even further, and the voice the cry belonged to sounded scratchy and stressed. I wanted to retreat to my home, perhaps even call the police. Maybe I would have, had the shriek not stopped as abruptly as it had started, catching me off guard.