"Five… six… seven…"
Devon's voice rang out across the clearing, each number slicing the air like a blade. His tone was wrong—too mechanical, too smooth. Not Devon. Not anymore.
Emily's breath caught in her throat.
They had come into the forest as allies, united by fear and vengeance.
Now, they were back in the game.
"Run!" Ava snapped, grabbing Emily's arm and dragging her into the tree line.
The others followed instinctively—no time for questions. No time for hesitation. Just motion. Survival.
"Eight… nine… ten…"
Emily's feet pounded against the soft earth as the group tore through the forest. The trees shifted around them, twisting and creaking, rearranging paths like a living labyrinth. Shadows stretched unnaturally long, snatching at their ankles.
"This isn't like before!" Sarah yelled. "He's not just counting—he's becoming part of it!"
Emily risked a glance over her shoulder.
Devon stood completely still in the center of the clearing. But his eyes… they glowed with the forest's pale blue light. His mouth moved soundlessly after reaching "twenty," as if counting beyond what any of them could hear.
And something behind him was moving—emerging.
It looked like smoke at first, then shape. A second Devon.
But wrong.
Its face stretched too long, its limbs jerking like a marionette's. Its eyes were black pits that bled blue mist. A mirror… a mockery.
It tilted its head.
And ran.
The four of them plunged deeper into the forest.
The trail was gone now—just wild terrain, roots and thorns and whispering leaves that seemed to murmur secrets in languages none of them knew.
"What the hell was that thing?" Marcus gasped.
"A copy," Ava said, out of breath. "The forest made a Seeker—and a Shadow. The game's evolved. It's not just hide-and-seek anymore. It's a hunt."
Emily slowed only long enough to pull Ava behind a thick fallen tree. They hunkered down, gasping, listening. Sarah and Marcus crouched beside them.
Silence.
Too much of it.
"I don't hear him," Sarah whispered.
"That's worse," Emily said grimly. "It means he's listening."
A sharp snap echoed nearby—like a twig cracking under weight. The air dropped ten degrees.
They froze.
Something was watching them.
Marcus carefully peeked above the log.
His eyes widened. "He's coming. Fast."
Ava reached into her bag and pulled out the old book—The Hollow Watchers. Pages flapped wildly in the wind that suddenly tore through the trees. "We need to finish what we came here to do. The Lockbox is the only thing that can end this."
Emily glanced at the glowing sigil on her wrist—it pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
"What if we can't open it?" Sarah asked.
"We'll find a way," Emily said, standing up. "We didn't come this far to run again."
A whisper floated through the trees.
"Found… you…"
The voice wasn't Devon's.
It was the shadow.
They split up.
Not because they wanted to, but because the forest demanded it.
The moment they stepped into the next stretch of trees, the paths diverged—unnaturally. Trees grew in walls, separating them with impossible speed, forming mazes around each of them.
Emily screamed for the others. Her voice echoed back at her, but warped.
She was alone.
The forest groaned, amused.
"Okay," she whispered, heart racing. "Okay. You want to play. I'll play."
She pressed on, ducking low branches, keeping to the narrow trail winding through the gnarled woods. The deeper she went, the more distorted reality became.
Time didn't exist here.
Colors bled wrong—leaves shifting from green to purple to gray. The trees whispered her name in voices that sounded like her mother, her friends, her own.
The sigil on her wrist glowed brighter, guiding her.
Then, suddenly, a clearing.
Another one.
In the center: the Lockbox.
It sat atop a stone pedestal, humming with power. Intricate carvings circled its edges, glowing faintly in the same shade as her mark.
Emily stepped forward.
The moment her foot touched the pedestal's edge, the air snapped.
A dark figure materialized across from her.
Devon.
Or what was left of him.
His eyes were pitch black, and his skin had taken on a ghostly pallor. He looked exhausted, hollowed out. The sigil on his wrist burned like fire.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
"Devon," Emily pleaded. "Fight it. Please. This isn't you."
He winced, shaking. "I'm trying. But it's in me now. I… I hear its voice every second. It's in my blood."
Emily stepped closer. "Then let me help you."
He stared at the Lockbox.
"It's not locked," he whispered. "It never was. But the price…"
"What price?"
Devon's head turned toward her. "It needs someone to end the game. Someone willing to give everything. It's the only way to shut it forever."
Emily's throat tightened. "You mean… someone has to die?"
Devon nodded. "Worse. Someone has to become part of it. Forever. Replace the Seeker. Bind it from the inside."
She looked at the Lockbox.
At the carved symbol.
At her wrist.
"I was marked first," she said. "It's supposed to be me."
"No," Devon said, voice cracking. "You survived. You were strong enough to walk away. That means something."
"Then maybe that's why I'm the one who has to stay."
She reached out and touched the box.
Pain exploded through her arm, searing up her shoulder and into her chest.
Visions flooded her mind—every child the forest had ever claimed. Every game. Every loss. Every scream.
And then silence.
The Lockbox opened.
Inside, a single object rested: a wooden figurine. A little girl with her eyes covered, counting.
Emily picked it up.
The trees around her began to groan and twist, writhing like serpents. The ground shook.
Devon screamed, falling to his knees. "You triggered it—Emily, you need to go now! If you stay too long, it'll—"
Ava's voice cut through the chaos.
"Emily!"
She appeared on the other side of the clearing, Sarah and Marcus beside her, panting and dirty.
Emily turned to them, the figurine clutched in her hand. "I can end this."
"Then do it," Ava called.
But Devon stood, clutching her shoulder. "You're not going in alone. You're not staying behind."
"You said someone has to," she replied softly. "Let it be me."
Devon looked at her for a long, trembling moment.
Then he smiled sadly.
"No. Let it be me."
Before she could stop him, he grabbed the figurine and turned it in his hands. The sigil on his wrist flared bright—then burst into flame.
"Devon, no!" Emily cried.
He stepped back into the pedestal's center.
And whispered something only the forest could hear.
The light exploded.
When Emily woke, the sky was clear.
Blue.
Normal.
Birds chirped.
Sunlight filtered gently through the trees.
The Lockbox was gone.
So was Devon.
She sat up and saw Ava beside her, tears streaking her face. Sarah and Marcus stirred nearby, disoriented but alive.
They were back at the forest's edge.
Outside the game.
Free.
Emily touched her wrist.
The mark was gone.
So was the hum. The whispers. The shadows.
A single object rested in her hand.
The figurine.
But now… it was different.
The girl was no longer covering her eyes.
She was smiling.