Steven adjusted his glasses as he stepped onto the dirt path. The first crunch of gravel beneath his boots felt oddly loud in the surrounding quiet, as though the woods themselves had ears. He lingered for a moment, his gaze sweeping the towering trees ahead. The Whispering Woods seemed less intimidating up close, more surreal than menacing. Shafts of light pierced through the canopy in narrow beams, creating patches of warmth in the cool, shadowy expanse.

His friends moved ahead, each in their own rhythm. Everett, as usual, was in the lead, his movements purposeful and unbothered. Grayson stayed a step behind, scanning the surroundings with quiet intensity. Steven fell into step with Liam, who hummed a tune under his breath, his fingers fidgeting with a stray thread on his shirt. Noah and Tristan brought up the rear, Noah casually kicking pebbles off the trail while Tristan occasionally glanced back, as if to make sure nothing - or no one - was following.

Steven wasn’t afraid, not exactly. It was more a simmering unease that refused to dissipate, like the weight of an unsolved equation. He wasn’t sure if it was the woods or his own overactive imagination, but every so often, he caught glimpses of movement in the corner of his eye - branches swaying, shadows shifting.

“Steven, you good?” Liam’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Steven said quickly, pushing up his glasses. “Just...thinking.”

“About?”

Before Steven could answer, Everett’s voice rang out. “Hey, check this out!”

They all gathered around Everett, who was crouched near the base of an old tree. A pile of stones, meticulously arranged in a spiral, rested on the mossy ground. In the centre of the spiral lay a single feather, jet-black and unnaturally glossy.

“Who leaves something like this in the middle of nowhere?” Noah asked, crouching to get a better look.

“Maybe it’s art,” Liam suggested, though his tone lacked conviction.

Steven studied the arrangement, his analytical mind piecing together possibilities. “It’s deliberate,” he said. “The pattern, the placement... This wasn’t random.”

“Creepy, it looks like something for summoning demons,” Tristan muttered, crossing his arms. “Let’s not overthink it and just keep moving.”

Everett stood, brushing dirt off his hands. “Agreed. The woods are full of weird stuff, right? It’s probably just some old tradition or whatever.”

As they moved deeper into the forest, Steven couldn’t help but feel the arrangement of stones lingering in the back of his mind. It wasn’t just weird; it was specific. Purposeful. Even the likes of Everett would know that patterns in nature were impossible.

The trail narrowed, forcing them to walk single file. The trees here were older, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The light grew dimmer, the sun’s rays struggling to penetrate the dense canopy.

“Hey, over here!” This time, it was Grayson who called out.

The group converged around him to find a rusty lantern hanging from a low branch. Its glass was cracked, and the metal frame was spotted with corrosion, but it still looked sturdy enough to have lasted years, maybe decades.

“Someone left this?” Liam asked, running his fingers over the metal.

“Or they never came back for it,” Noah quipped, earning a sharp glance from Tristan.

Steven stepped closer, examining the lantern. “It doesn’t seem like it’s been here too long. There’s not much rust for something left in the open like this.”

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Everett said, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and humour. “Like a breadcrumb trail leading us to the treasure.”

“Or a warning,” Tristan said quietly, his gaze darting to the shadows.

Steven sighed, already imagining how long it would take to debunk Everett’s treasure theory later. “Let’s just keep going. If someone left it here, maybe they left other things.”

As they continued, the woods seemed to press closer. The air was cool but thick, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and pine. The silence was punctuated by the occasional rustle of leaves or distant chirp of a bird, though even those sounds felt muted, as if the forest were holding its breath.

“Anyone else feel like we’re being watched?” Noah asked casually, though the edge in his voice betrayed his nerves.

“Nope, just you,” Everett replied, though his grin seemed a little forced.

Steven didn’t say anything. He’d felt it too - that prickle at the back of his neck, the sense of unseen eyes following their every move.

Ahead, the trail opened into a small clearing. At its centre stood a weathered wooden bench, its planks sagging and moss creeping along its legs. An old book rested on the seat, its leather cover warped with age.

“Okay, now this is weird,” Liam said, stopping a few paces away.

Steven approached cautiously, his curiosity outweighing his apprehension. The book’s cover was embossed with an ornate pattern, though the title, if it ever existed, had long since faded. He reached out to touch it, hesitating only briefly before flipping it open.

The pages were yellowed and brittle, filled with handwritten text in a script so ornate it was almost illegible. Sketches of plants, animals, and strange symbols adorned the margins. Steven’s heart quickened as he turned the pages, trying to make sense of the cryptic entries.

“What is it?” Grayson asked, peering over his shoulder.

“A journal, maybe,” Steven said. “Or some kind of field guide. It’s hard to tell.”

“Think it belongs to someone still around?” Tristan asked, his voice low.

Steven closed the book and straightened, a chill running down his spine. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it’s not exactly comforting, is it?”

The group fell silent, the weight of the find settling over them. Steven held onto the book as they left the clearing, his mind racing with questions he couldn’t yet answer.

The Whispering Woods were proving to be more than just a local legend. And as they ventured further, Steven couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into a story far older - and stranger - than any of them could have imagined.

~ ~ ~

After walking deeper into the forest, the group took a break by a large oak tree, its twisted branches towering overhead, as though trying to keep the others from venturing too far. The air felt crisp and slightly damp under the shade, a subtle chill creeping in despite the warmth of the sunlight that trickled through the canopy.

Steven sat down first, running a hand over the mossy roots. His glasses glinted under the soft beams of sun, adding a touch of irony to his well-measured, thoughtful persona. Despite the ever-present air of quiet seriousness he gave off, something about this situation made him prone to light banter. Maybe it was just being surrounded by friends, or maybe it was the way the stillness of the woods coaxed out strange thoughts.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Alright,” he began, adjusting his glasses for emphasis, “here’s a question for the group. In the event of a zombie apocalypse… how are we all surviving?”

Tristan smirked from his place nearby, already tossing a small stone back and forth in his hands. “Easy,” he replied without hesitation, “I’m setting up shop with a stash of food, weapons, and a ready-made shelter. You know, basic survival stuff. You?”

“No contest,” Noah interrupted, kicking back against the bark of another tree. “I’d steal a fast car, head to the nearest warehouse, and call dibs on the whole place. Power steering for the win.”

Liam looked over at Noah and scoffed. “Yeah? And then what? Drive around, impress people with your driving skills? Zombies don’t care about how slick you look.”

“Oh, they’ll care.” Noah’s grin grew. “I can guarantee I’m making a serious impression. Zombies are all about that fast-paced lifestyle. You know it.”

Steven turned his attention to Liam, clearly wanting to hear more. “And you, Liam?”

Liam tapped his chin dramatically, raising an eyebrow. “Me? I’m too busy planning my escape strategy, obviously. I’d charm a whole community of survivors into giving me all the supplies, and maybe throw in some extra snacks for good measure. I mean, who’s not going to want to be around this?” He flashed a grin as if he’d already won the game of survival.

Steven almost snorted in amusement. “A strategy of smooth talking and good looks. No weapons, no shelter, just charisma.”

“Pretty much,” Liam confirmed confidently, leaning back. “They’ll hand over their food, the women will swoon - ”

“Don’t forget to leave out the part where the zombies will think you’re a snack and run straight for you,” Grayson chimed in with a mischievous smile. "As impressive as your rizz is, I’m sure zombies have their own version of it."

That earned a round of chuckles, Noah’s hearty laugh rolling out louder than the rest.

But then, something shifted in the air. As sudden as it came, the lightness in the air flickered, like someone had just swept through the place and stirred the atmosphere. A faint sound, barely audible yet unmistakably haunting, slipped into their conversations. The rustling of leaves seemed to transform into whispers, faint and flowing like voices calling out from another world.

Tristan paused mid-laugh. His eyes flickered around, narrowing with intrigue. “Did you - did anyone else hear that?”

Steven tensed, setting his glasses aside, feeling the very hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His voice dropped into a low, almost reverent whisper. “It sounds like... calling.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Calling? What do you mean, like ‘hello, we’re here’ or ‘let’s party’?”

“Not that kind of call,” Steven said, shifting uneasily. “This... this is different.”

As if on cue, the others started to feel it too. A shiver rippled through the group; an instinctive warning bell rang within all of them. The quiet, lingering whispers beckoned, more distinct now - sometimes too faint to understand, other times urgent and compelling, as though something or someone waited in the forest's depths.

Grayson stood first, eyeing the trees around them like something was just beyond reach. “Should we - ”

Liam grinned, catching onto the change in the air. “Huh. No one mentioned ghostly whispers before this little expedition. Think the woods are trying to recruit us for a ghost army or something?”

Everett chuckled, though his laughter held an unusual edge. “Ghosts and their ever-creative ideas. Maybe they’ve got a good menu, if that helps.”

But Tristan was the first to move, standing tall with a purposeful stride. “I vote we check it out. I mean, we’re already in the woods, right? May as well follow a call that’s coming our way, see what happens.”

Grayson glanced at the others. A quiet moment passed. As usual, the group followed his lead - no one raised objections.

“All right,” Grayson nodded. “Let’s go. Keep your wits sharp. The woods… aren’t what they seem.”

And so, they headed into the direction of the mysterious voices, every step they took intensifying the tension in the air, yet leaving them strangely curious about what lay ahead.

~ ~ ~

The whispering calls still drifted through the forest, faint but persistent, like a breeze carrying words that just missed the ear. Steven’s steps slowed as the growing unease weighed on him. As strange as the sounds were, something about trudging deeper into the woods made him want to head back to where things were simpler. Somewhere he could swap out this eerie adventure for a seat at the dining table, something warm in his hands - something safe.

“Alright,” Everett piped up, shattering the quiet with his usual swagger. “I’ll say it. No food, no snacks, and we’re just wandering? If this ends in me starving, I hope one of you is volunteering your lunch money.”

“You sound like you’d eat us if it came to it,” Noah quipped, rolling his eyes as he fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Honestly, I’d just take a quick burger and call it a day. We could head back now, y’know.”

Tristan smirked. “Burgers? Really, mate? A world of food and you want fast food?” He waved a hand dramatically. “I’m talking Teriyaki chicken don. Now that’s worth risking life and limb for.”

Steven tried not to laugh, but Liam beat him to it, chuckling softly. “All that’s missing is the violin playing in the background. You want me to write you a poem about it?”

“Pipe down, fire boy,” Tristan retorted, crossing his arms. “What would you want, then?”

“Simple: spicy chicken wings,” Liam replied, his expression softening. “Full on habanero style. You can keep your fancy Teriyaki chicken or burgers. Just gimme something warm, filling and also takes my mind off this.”

Steven’s stomach grumbled quietly, betraying him as his own thoughts drifted. It was strange for a group of kids their age to be out here, navigating the whispers of something neither explained nor understood, and yet here they were. In the back of his mind, he could picture bubble tea - Grayson’s favourite. He looked over at Grayson, who was quietly marching beside him, staring ahead like he was tuning out the chatter around them.

“Bubble tea,” Steven said aloud, shooting a look at Grayson. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Grayson blinked, glancing at him with a knowing smile. “Not like it’s a bad thing. You’ll be begging for some if we ever need to find food out here.”

Noah shook his head with mock disbelief. “How’s bubble tea supposed to save us in a cave? Do you, like, carry an infinite supply in your backpack or something?”

Liam snorted, the laughter adding some relief to the group. "If he did, I’d pay good money for it right now.”

The calls grew louder.

Each boy stopped mid-step as the sounds seemed to crawl down their spines, chilling yet strangely compelling. Their teasing slowed, replaced by a creeping awareness of the shadows around them. Tristan’s confidence faltered, his laughter fading as his hand brushed against Steven’s arm.

“Does anyone else feel that?” he asked quietly, his voice carrying a note of hesitation.

Grayson nodded once, his gaze fixed somewhere ahead. “Yeah... and we’re heading straight towards it.”

“Do we have to?” Noah muttered, hugging his arms to his chest. “It’s creepy out here, and we didn’t even tell anyone we were coming this way. What if it takes too long? What if we... miss school?”

“Mate, school?” Liam deadpanned. “That’s what you’re worried about? School’s not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, well, mums might notice we’re missing,” Everett added softly, rubbing his neck. His voice was quieter than usual, but no less honest. “If this doesn’t pan out, I don’t think I’ll hear the end of it.”

But the boys continued forward, guided now more by the insistent curiosity within them than the faint echoes.

They reached the mouth of a large, moss-covered cave. Its entrance loomed ahead, dark and jagged, as though it were some ancient secret trying to swallow them whole. For a moment, Steven hesitated, shifting awkwardly on his feet. The others felt the same: standing on the edge of something that wanted to pull them in, yet not having the courage to call it off.

“I hate caves,” Noah grumbled.

“I hate creepy caves,” Liam corrected, stepping forward before anyone could point out the nervous look on his face.

They took a few tentative steps inside, each step crunching against old gravel that echoed faintly along the walls. The darkness wrapped around them almost immediately, and it became obvious that this place hadn’t been used in years. Dust filled the air, settling on old markings on the walls and shelves of stone that stretched into the distance.

“Why does it feel like I’m walking into a trap?” Noah said, his voice breaking the silence like glass.

“You talk too much,” Grayson said softly, his focus elsewhere.

Steven squinted ahead, trying to make sense of the shapes in the shadows. His eyes settled on something strange in the wall ahead of them - a branch in the tunnel that seemed to lead nowhere.

“Dead end,” Tristan murmured, walking closer.

But then Steven froze, his pulse quickening. Something about the wall seemed... wrong. He reached out and placed his hand against it.

The stone was smooth - too smooth. He pushed lightly, and with a faint scraping sound, part of the wall moved.

Noah blinked. “Mate, tell me you didn’t just open a secret door.”

“Secret door,” Liam repeated, his voice tight with nerves. “Yeah, brilliant. Let’s open it and get eaten by whatever’s glowing on the other side.”

“Wait, glowing?” Steven said, turning towards the opening.

Because there it was - a faint light spilling through the gap in the wall, bright and inviting, yet completely unexplainable.

For a moment, none of them moved. Then Grayson, as calm as ever, stepped forward.

“We’re finding out what’s behind that,” he said simply.

And before anyone could argue, the group followed him inside.