Night draped its inky veil over the edge of the ancient forest. A spectral whisper of wind snaked through the gnarled branches of colossal trees, twisted and deformed by time and the elements. Their silhouettes, grotesquely contorted, resembled the clawed limbs of ravenous beasts. Oak-sorcerers, cedar-enchanters, pine-monsters – each one seemed the embodiment of primal terror.
The wind's whisper swelled into a chilling howl, as if the forest itself warned of mortal danger. Legends spoke of Death dwelling among these trees, lying in wait for unwary travelers. Some trees were said to take the form of an old woman with a scythe, frozen in eternal anticipation. Others saw in them the Horseman of the Apocalypse or a monstrous dragon, born of the darkest nightmares.
The few who dared to tread upon this cursed ground returned with tales that chilled the soul. They whispered of trees that came alive in the darkness, tearing themselves from the earth with a crackle of roots, and pursuing their victims. These stories passed from mouth to mouth, growing with each retelling, their details becoming more gruesome and horrifying.
But the truth was far more terrifying than fiction. The trees truly lived a life of pain and suffering. They burned in fires, shattered under the onslaught of storms, withered from thirst, and rotted from excess moisture. But their most fearsome enemy was man.
Humans ruthlessly exploited the trees for their own needs, never considering the pain they inflicted on these defenseless beings. The trees silently endured their first execution, falling to the ground with a soundless cry of despair. Their sap and resin became tears, and the crackling of burning wood in stoves and fireplaces – a final scream before their second and final death.
Those who managed to survive were changed. Their appearance grew more menacing, as if they sought to frighten away their tormentors. But behind this mask of terror lay only deep sorrow and the despair of vanishing giants.
A lone traveler, lost in the woods, shivered from cold and fear. He heard the trees whisper, saw their sinister silhouettes swaying in the darkness. Suddenly, the earth beneath his feet trembled, and a chilling groan erupted from the roots of the nearest oak. The traveler turned to flee, but it was too late. The tree's branches, as if alive, wrapped around his legs and pulled him down. He screamed, but his cry was swallowed by the rustling of leaves and the howling of the wind.
The next morning, only torn clothes and traces of blood were found at the forest's edge. Another victim of the cursed forest, another soul claimed by the trees, thirsting for revenge.
August 3, 2024
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