Whispers of the Forgotten Pines

Ethan's body twisted midair, his hands scrambling for something—anything—to grab onto as the earth crumbled beneath him.

Lillian was falling too, her pale hair whipping in the wind as the darkness swallowed them whole. The walls of the cavern blurred past, streaks of jagged rock and twisted roots. They were going too fast.

And then—

A hand snatched his wrist.

For a split second, Ethan's body jolted, his descent halting with a bone-rattling force. His breath hitched as he looked up.

Lillian.

She had managed to grab hold of an outcropping of thick roots, her fingers white from the strain as she clung to him with one hand.

Her face was twisted in effort. "Climb!" she shouted.

Ethan's heart slammed against his ribs. The chasm below him was pitch black—if she let go, he didn't know if there was an end to that fall. He reached up, his fingers brushing against the thick root above her. With a deep breath, he pulled himself up, his muscles screaming as he swung a leg over.

He collapsed onto the ledge, panting. Lillian hauled herself up beside him, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. For a moment, neither of them spoke, just listening to the distant echoes of shifting stone below.

Then—a deep groan rumbled through the cavern.

Ethan tensed. The door.

It was still waking up.

Lillian cursed under her breath and turned to him. "We need to move."

She didn't wait for a response. She crawled forward along the ledge, her fingers skimming the damp rock like she knew exactly where she was going. Ethan swallowed hard and followed, his limbs still trembling from the near fall.

The tunnel was narrow, forcing them to move on hands and knees. The walls pulsed with a strange heat, like something was alive beneath the stone. Ethan's mind was still spinning from what he had seen—the massive eye beneath the door, the way the darkness had moved like it had a mind of its own.

And the whispers.

They had spoken to him.

You heard us.

What the hell did that mean?

Lillian suddenly stopped. Ethan nearly crashed into her.

"Look," she whispered, pointing ahead.

Ethan followed her gaze—and his stomach dropped.

The tunnel opened into another cavern. But this one was different.

A single stone table sat in the center, surrounded by what looked like… statues. Dozens of them. Human figures, frozen mid-motion, their faces twisted in expressions of fear, pain, or horror. Some reached toward the ceiling, others cowered as if shielding themselves from something unseen.

Ethan's breath caught. They looked too real.

"What is this?" he muttered.

Lillian hesitated before answering. "A warning."

Ethan shot her a sharp look. "A warning for what?"

She didn't respond. Instead, she stepped into the cavern, her footsteps light against the stone. Ethan followed, his gaze shifting between the statues. His skin prickled. Something about this place felt wrong.

He stepped closer to the stone table. It was smooth, almost polished, despite the dust covering it. In the center, a single knife rested, its blade thin and black as obsidian. Strange symbols were carved into the surface, looping in intricate, almost hypnotic patterns.

Ethan exhaled slowly. His fingers hovered over the knife, his pulse thrumming. Something was pulling him toward it.

"Don't touch it."

Lillian's voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy air. Ethan jerked his hand back and looked at her.

Her face was tense. "It's a binding knife."

Ethan frowned. "Binding what?"

Lillian glanced around the cavern, her expression unreadable. "A piece of the ritual."

Ethan's blood ran cold. "What ritual?"

She didn't answer.

Instead, she turned toward the statues, her fingers brushing the arm of the nearest one. Ethan watched as her hand trembled slightly, like she already knew what she would find.

"These aren't statues," she whispered.

Ethan's stomach twisted. "What?"

Lillian turned back to him, her face pale.

"They were people."

Silence slammed into the cavern.

Ethan took a step back, his pulse roaring in his ears. He looked around again, his mind now seeing what he had refused to before. The details—the individual strands of hair, the folds of their clothes, the absolute terror carved into their features—they were too perfect. Too detailed.

They hadn't been carved from stone.

They had been turned to stone.

Ethan's throat was dry. "What the hell happened here?"

Lillian swallowed. "The last time the door was opened."

A shiver ran down his spine. His hands curled into fists. That meant… it had happened before.

His thoughts were racing, questions piling on top of each other faster than he could process them. Why had the door been sealed? Who had sealed it? And… what had come out the last time it was opened?

The answer was standing all around him.

Ethan turned back to Lillian. "If this is a warning," he said carefully, "why did the town just… leave it here? Shouldn't they have destroyed it?"

Lillian hesitated. Then, finally—"Because they can't."

Ethan's breath hitched.

She met his gaze, her dark eyes solemn. "These people—they weren't just turned to stone. They're still here. Alive."

His chest tightened. "That's not possible."

Lillian's fingers curled at her sides. "This place is older than the town. Older than anything you know. It doesn't follow the same rules."

A cold wave of nausea rolled through Ethan's stomach. He turned, looking at the frozen figures again—really looking this time. The way their mouths were slightly open, as if caught mid-scream. The way their eyes still gleamed beneath the dust.

A thought—a horrifying thought—slid into his mind.

If they were still alive…

Could they still see him?

The cavern suddenly felt suffocating. Ethan took a shaky step backward, his foot nudging against something. He glanced down.

A crack had formed beneath one of the statues.

A small one. Barely noticeable.

But then it spread.

A thin web of fractures crawled up the stone figure's leg, splitting the surface like fragile glass. Ethan's heart stopped.

The whispers returned, soft, curling around the edges of his mind.

Wake up.

Lillian grabbed his wrist. "We need to go. Right now."

Ethan didn't argue.

As they turned to run, the first finger twitched.

And then—

The statues began to move.

What horror has Ethan just awakened? What happened the last time the door was opened? And if these people have been frozen for centuries…