Jack always wished for adventure, for the thrill of the supernatural. If only he knew how much power words had.

Jack had lost his mom. Jack was speed walking away from the tree, and towards the parents, hopefully. The tree creaked under the intense weight of the thing. Jack started to run. The blue lined humanoid skeletal being was faster, bigger and soon reduced him to a red stain underfoot that the trees eagerly ate up, glowing with faint hues of red.

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The trail covered itself up, and people could move again, freed from time like someone pressing play on a video.

Three weeks have passed, and there have been search parties looking for Jack nearly constantly. They only found a flattened area of the trail, where rocks had been ground to dust and trees reduced to splinters. Weeks later, Jack’s funeral was held, and the 12-year-old boy was given up on by the searches.

Sometimes, people say they saw Jack but never return to the trail for some reason, and suffer insomnia forever after, and refuse to go anywhere near "that damned forest".

Be careful what you wish for. It. Just. Might. Be. Possible.