The deeper they walked, the more the road seemed to absorb their footsteps, as if Aervost refused to allow echoes. The mist clung to their ankles in swirling tendrils, brushing against them with unsettling precision—like fingers.
Alex kept himself at the front, not because he felt brave, but because someone had to look like they were. Every few steps he glanced back to make sure the others hadn't vanished into the fog.
They nearly did.
Jordan kept close behind Tara, occasionally muttering to himself, mostly curses or half-jokes that sounded more like coping mechanisms than attempts at humor. Liam brought up the rear, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest as if bracing for impact.
The road narrowed between gnarled trees, their branches twisting toward the travelers like skeletal hands reaching for warmth.
Tara stopped abruptly. "Did you hear that?"
They all froze.
A whisper—quiet, shivering—like fabric dragging against bark.
Alex turned slowly. "Where?"
"Behind us," Tara breathed.
Jordan snorted nervously. "Cool. Awesome. Love that. Fantastic."
Liam stepped closer to them. "I think something's following."
Something rustled in the deeper brush. Slow. Deliberate. Heavy.
Alex swallowed. "Okay. Stay in the road. Don't go near the woods."
"That's where the noise is coming from," Jordan hissed.
"Exactly," Alex said. "That's why we're not going toward it."
They resumed walking, faster now, the mist swirling more aggressively as if urging them forward—or pushing them deeper.
Another sound emerged from the left this time. A low growl. Too low to be wind. Too animal. Too… hungry.
Tara's voice cracked. "Alex—"
"I hear it."
Then the right side answered the left with its own growl.
Liam's voice strained. "Two of them?"
"No," Tara whispered. "More."
Alex didn't look into the trees. Every instinct told him not to. Don't give the darkness a face. Don't let it see fear.
But he did glance once.
Between the trunks, he only saw a shape. A silhouette. Wrongly shaped—tall, stretched, too thin to be human, but too upright to be animal. It paused when he looked. Tilted its head in a slow, impossible angle.
Then vanished into the mist.
Alex shivered violently. "Keep walking."
They didn't argue.
Minutes felt like hours until the oppressive forest gave way to a clearing. A crooked wooden sign leaned beside the road, half-swallowed by roots:
DIREFORD — ½ mile
Jordan exhaled shakily. "Thank God."
"Don't thank yet," Liam said weakly. "We're not there."
Tara stepped closer to the sign. "Look at this writing—doesn't match any language I know, but it's similar enough that someone translated it."
Jordan frowned. "Wait. You're telling me someone in this nightmare forest took the time to make a tourist sign?"
Alex gave her a small nod. "Then we keep moving."
They had barely taken ten steps when the first lantern appeared—hanging from a crooked post, glowing a faint blue. The light flickered, not like fire, but like captured lightning trying to escape.
"Think that's why it's called Lantern Road?" Jordan asked.
Tara nodded. "I think these mark the way to town."
Liam moved closer to the lantern, mesmerized. "How does it stay lit? There's no flame—"
A hand grabbed his coat from behind.
Liam screamed.
Tara stumbled backward.
Jordan cursed loudly.
Alex spun around, fists up—
—only to find a figure standing behind Liam, half-hidden by the mist.
Not a monster.
A man.
He was gaunt, wearing a threadbare coat that looked older than the trees. His hair was wild, eyes sunken, skin pale as bone. But what froze them wasn't his appearance.
It was the lantern he held.
A small handheld version of the ones on the road, glowing faint blue.
"Stay," the man rasped. His voice sounded unused, as if it had been left on a shelf for decades. "Stay in the lantern light. The forest… hungers."
Jordan swallowed. "We weren't planning a picnic."
The man blinked slowly, as if unsure what a picnic was. Then he stepped into the lantern glow, though he kept his distance. "You are not from here."
It wasn't a question.
Alex tried to steady his breathing. "Where are we?"
"Aervost," the man whispered. "Land of Mists. Land of the Veil. Land of… decay."
"Okay, that's not ominous at all," Jordan muttered.
Liam, voice trembling, asked, "Who are you?"
The man looked over his shoulder, as if expecting something to come slithering out of the woods at any second. "A watcher. A wanderer. A fool. Names do not matter. But you… you should not have come."
"We didn't choose to," Tara said.
"No one does."
Alex stepped forward. "The letter we found—about the village of Direford. Is it safe?"
The man's expression twisted painfully. "Safer than the forest. Less safe than hope."
"That's not helpful," Jordan said.
The man ignored him. His gaze drifted to each of them, lingering longest on Liam. "You carry fear like old wood carries rot. It spreads."
Liam swallowed. "Is Direford close?"
"Half a mile," the man said. "But go only in the lantern's path. The light hurts them."
"T–them?" Tara asked.
The man turned abruptly. "They are listening."
He pressed his lantern into Liam's chest. Liam caught it clumsily.
"Take it," the stranger whispered. "They hunt by sound. By scent. By the warmth of living skin. Keep to the light."
Then he backed away into the mist.
"Wait!" Alex called. "Who are you running from?"
The man's voice echoed back, broken and thin:
"Lord Drakov sees all. The Veil hears all. Leave… before you are seen."
And then he was gone. Swallowed by the fog.
Jordan looked at Liam. "Why did he give you the creepy ghost lantern?"
"I—I don't know," Liam stammered. "I didn't want it!"
"Too late," Tara said. "Now hold it steady. We need it."
Alex checked the trees. Silence again. Watching silence. Waiting silence.
"Let's move," he said. "We're close."
The lantern Liam carried pulsed dimly, beating like a slow heartbeat.
They followed the lantern posts as the fog thinned, revealing a valley below—scattered houses, a few flickering windows, a crooked bell tower leaning like it had given up decades ago.
Direford.
A faint trail of smoke curled from one chimney, the only sign of life.
Tara exhaled in relief. "A village. Finally."
Jordan squinted. "Why does everything look… abandoned?"
The lantern in Liam's hand flickered violently.
Then went dark.
"What the hell—?" Jordan whispered.
Behind them, the forest growled.
Not one creature.
Many.
Alex's chest tightened. "Run."
They did.
Down the path. Toward Direford. Toward the faint hope of other humans, of shelter, of explanation.
Behind them, the mist roared as something massive crashed through the trees, branches snapping like bones.
The veil itself seemed to close in, whispering—
They've arrived. Fresh blood. Run. Run.
Direford's gate creaked open as they approached, inviting or warning, impossible to tell.
Alex didn't care.
They sprinted through.
The gate slammed shut behind them.
And the whispers fell silent.