Many began this journey.
Now only me.
The forest beckoned.
We came seeking revelation.
They only found death.
What would I find?
Inviting me deeper.
Thorned vines restrain and tear flesh.
Hands and knees, crawling, unable to see before me.
Clawing, desperate to escape.
Hands finding the cool edge of stone.
Pulling myself up, I tremble.
Staring into nothingness…
The Pit.
Engulfing my light.
Something below glimmering.
I must know.
Repelling down…
Never-ending.
Out of rope… too weak.
Letting go, falling into forever.
Fluttering wings…
Arms embrace me.
Lips whisper.
“Your faith is rewarded.”
The knife plunges.
Peace.
About the Creator
Lee Wyatt
I like to create... with words, whether it be in song or story form.
From PA > CA and everywhere outside and in-between.
Contact: [email protected]
The Whispering Woods
In the heart of the Whispering Woods lay a deserted village, its identity lost to the passage of time. The residents, shrouded in secrecy and seclusion, exchanged hushed stories of sinister entities lurking among the towering trees. Deep-seated superstitions reigned supreme, and fear clung to every corner. It was said that those who ventured too deep into the woods never returned, their very essence ensnared by the malevolent forces that resided within.
By TheCanadianView 5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This gave me goosebumps!