Eliza was new to Black Hollow, having moved from the city to escape her past and seek solitude in the town's sleepy atmosphere.
Despite warnings from her neighbors, Eliza found the stories of the Whispering Forest fascinating rather than frightening, and as a writer of supernatural thrillers, she saw it as the perfect inspiration for her next novel.
Black Hollow was notorious for its proximity to the Whispering Forest, a dense, dark stretch of woods that locals avoided at all costs.
For generations, people had told stories about people going missing, strange noises, and whispers that had no discernible source.
Equipped with her notepad, recorder, and flashlight, Eliza made the decision to investigate the woodland on a cold October evening.
As she passed beneath the ancient trees' canopy, the golden light of evening swiftly turned to a suffocating darkness.
The moist, heavy air had a little metallic tinge that made her stomach turn.
Eliza stopped to look around her.
With their gnarled branches tearing at the night sky, the tall trees loomed like silent sentinels.
With its dim glow scarcely penetrating the darkness, she switched on her flashlight. As she ventured deeper, the whispering began.
Her pulse quickened, but she told herself it was the wind. "This is exactly what I need," she muttered, pulling out her recorder. "Authentic atmosphere." She pressed record and held it out, letting the whispers fill the device because she couldn't get rid of the feeling that the voices were speaking to her, even though she couldn't understand them.
"Is someone there?" she called out as the whispers became louder, overlapping like a symphony of hushed voices.
The quiet felt oppressive.
Using her flashlight to scan the treetops, Eliza's breath came in quick gasps.
She was plunged into darkness as the beam flickered and eventually died. She grabbed for her spare batteries as panic swept through her.
Just behind her, a low, hoarse voice murmured before she could swap them out.
"You shouldn’t have come." Eliza's heart pounded as she whirled around.
There was no one there, yet the voice was definitely human.
When her flashlight flickered back on, it revealed nothing but desolate woods. Her voice was shaking as she screamed, "Who's there?" No response.
Just quiet.
She compelled herself to continue walking, her logical mind resisting the growing terror.
She muttered, "It’s just my imagination," as though stating it out loud would make it real. But she had a gut feeling that someone was observing her. With every bend, the trail led her farther into the maze-like forest.
The trees appeared to be alive, their twisted branches extending like skeletal hands toward her.
As she looked around, she saw shadows dancing in her surroundings and then disappearing.
She could hardly make out the words when the whispers returned, louder and more forceful.
"Leave... Leave... LEAVE!" Desperate to find her way back, Eliza staggered forward, her legs shaking.
The forest, however, was different.
An infinite sea of identical trees had taken the place of the path she had walked.
Her panic made her surroundings hazy, making it impossible for her to see anything but flee. Then she noticed it.
In the distance, amid the mist of fog and shadow, a person was just barely discernible. Its lengthy limbs twisted in inconceivable angles, and it was towering and abnormally thin.
Its eyes, two burning orbs of sickly yellow, glared through the darkness, but its face was hidden. "Help me!" Even when she knew no one would hear, Eliza let out a scream.
Still, the apparition stared at her without moving. She gathered all her confidence and stepped forward.
Her movements were matched by the beast. "No," she muttered as she retreated.
The figure moved forward, its motions smooth and unearthly. The murmurs were unbearable, circling her like a storm. Breathing heavily, Eliza started running and scuttled through the trees. She felt as though the forest was closing in on her, the branches tearing at her hair and clothing.
The voices cried out in pain and anger, and the whispers became shouts.
She fell to the ground after her foot snagged on a root. She lost control of the recorder, and it fell a few feet away.
A pale, unnaturally long hand grabbed it as she reached for it.
The hand led Eliza's gaze to the man towering over her, and she froze.
When viewed up close, its face was blank, devoid of any characteristics except those blazing eyes.
From within it came the murmurs, a chorus of hopelessness and hatred.
It shrieked, "You were warned," in a symphony of voices. "But you did not listen." The thing held the recorder out to her.
Eliza took it shakily. The murmurs stopped and were replaced by a deafening quiet.
Her hands trembled as she gazed down at the gadget. It was still recording, as shown by the red light.
The stranger was gone by the time she looked up.
Until she finally emerged from the jungle and entered the security of her house, Eliza continued to run.
Clutching the recorder like a lifeline, she nestled in the corner of the living room, shut the doors, and pulled the curtains.
In an attempt to understand what had transpired, she listened to the recording again. The gadget sputtered to life, the murmurs beginning softly but becoming louder by the second.
And the voice said, "You were warned." She felt a chill when she heard the words.
But what came next made her feel completely cold. In her own warped, hateful voice, she said, "You cannot escape."
Eliza was left in a silence that was far more terrible than any whisper when the recording came to an end.
At that moment, she understood that the forest had marked her and would always find her, no matter how far she ran.
Her neighbors discovered her house deserted the following morning. The recorder was on the coffee table, the doors were shut, and the curtains were drawn.
Although Eliza's voice was never heard again, the whispers on the tape persisted.
