Elijah Henderson

I forced myself to stand up.

Staying in one place without knowing who was approaching felt even scarier, so I decided to move.

But it only got worse.

With every step forward, the sound grew creepier.

Sometimes it felt like it was right behind me.

I turned slowly and heard tree branches snapping.

I ran, crouched down into the bushes, and opened my backpack, desperately grabbing my spare flashlight and fumbling to turn it on.

I didn't know why, but the pressure and my unsteady breathing made me cry.

No one was by my side, and that scared me even more.

But staying here wouldn't help, so I decided to find the tent.

I used my flashlight to search.

I felt like screaming their names for help, but the sense of danger stopped me.

No matter what, I couldn't grab anyone's attention.

As I walked past the same tree again, I saw the strange signs more clearly.

Hanging knots swayed from its branches.

Unfamiliar symbols were carved into the bark.

A knife was embedded in the trunk and a dark red substance had dried around it.

I couldn't tell if it was paste, ink, or blood.

One of the markings looked like a skeleton.

For research, I even took a picture of the tree.