Yandi wrapped his arms around himself as he stepped away from the flickering glow of the campfire. The drizzle had turned the forest floor into a slick mat of fallen leaves, and the cold night air felt like shards of ice against his skin. He drew a shaky breath and scanned the darkness ahead. "I have to find that snack wrapper," he muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It's the only clue I have to lead me out of this place."
With cautious steps, he ventured deeper beneath the canopy of gnarled branches. Each footfall splashed through rivulets of rainwater, and every rustle of leaves sent his heart racing. The trees loomed like silent sentinels, their rough bark sweating in the mist. Yandi shivered. This is the coldest night I've ever known, he thought. His breath billowed in front of him, pale ghosts dancing in the air.
After a few minutes of picking his way through the undergrowth, he paused. A low, intermittent rasp came from a tree just ahead.
"Ssskkk… Ssskkkk…"
His pulse thudded in his ears. He stepped closer, every nerve alight with tension. The sound grew louder, as if something was inching around behind the trunk. Yandi lifted his trembling hand and reached out to circle the tree.
His fingertips brushed a slender branch, which swayed softly in the wind. Leaves rattled, and for an instant he glimpsed nothing but ordinary wood and foliage. He exhaled in relief. "Just the wind." he told himself, ducking under low-hanging roots and moving on. But the chill in his spine refused to fade.
Yandi pressed forward, thoughts of Agung's discarded snack wrapper driving him on. He emerged into a small clearing, where a colossal tree stood at its center, its trunk as wide as a room, its branches arching overhead like a natural cathedral. Beneath its sheltering limbs sat Agung and the others earlier, trading jokes and warming themselves. Now, in the falling rain, only damp silence remained. "Here!" Yandi whispered, scanning the sodden ground. "This is where I'll find it."
He crouched, peering through scattered leaves. Thirty minutes passed in this manner: storm-tossed leaves, broken twigs, and rivulets of muddy water, but no wrapper. Just as he was about to give up, he noticed a faint glint beneath a moss-covered root. His fingers brushed aside wet soil and pressed into a crumpled plastic bag. "There!" His heart soared as he lifted the soggy snack wrapper into the dim light. "Agung hid it under where he sat all along."
Yandi stood and examined the wrapper, now marred by rain. Each crease and smear told him stories of its journey, how it had been knocked aside, crushed underfoot, then left to drift in the downpour. He straightened up, eyes narrowing as he tried to trace the path it had taken. "This way." he murmured, pointing toward a narrow trail that led deeper into the woods. A faint gleam of hope lit his chest. If I follow these wrappers, he thought, I might just find my way out.
He advanced slowly, the forest growing denser. The third wrapper lay some distance from the towering oak, half-submerged in a puddle. Yandi waded through the shallow water and retrieved it, shaking off droplets. The rain had blurred its colors, but the label remained legible. "Thank goodness." he sighed. "At least it's still here." He tucked both wrappers into his jacket pocket and scanned the surroundings.
Yet the silence now felt oppressive, as though the trees themselves watched him. Shadows wavered at the edge of his vision. Am I being followed? he wondered. His pace quickened, boots squelching on the soft earth. Every so often, he paused to listen: wind sighing through branches, distant drip of water, but no footsteps. Still, the hairs on his neck prickled with anticipation.
Suddenly, a soft, plaintive moan reached his ears."Help… help me…"
His blood ran cold. The voice was faint at first, then grew into a ragged plea laced with panic. Rainwater dripped from Yandi's hair as he halted, straining to locate the source. "Who's there?" he called, voice echoing among the trunks. A second later, it changed into a blood-curdling scream, a woman's scream, raw with terror.
"Helpooooong! Aaahhhhh!"
Yandi swallowed hard. Memories of Felix flickered in his mind, his friend left alone in the little hut they'd found earlier. Felix had seemed uneasy about the howling wind. I can't just walk away. Determination steeled his nerves. "Hold on, Felix." he whispered. "I'm coming."
He pushed through a tangle of vines, guided only by the cries. The night seemed to breathe around him, the mist vibrating with unseen life. When he finally emerged into a tiny glade, he froze. There, under a thick canopy of leaves, stood a woman's figure, her back to him. The shape was eerie in the half-light, her long hair hung straight, and her shoulders trembled.
"Felix?" Yandi ventured, voice trembling. "What are you doing out here?" But the figure did not turn. He took another step forward. "Felix, it's me, Yandi!"
Silence. Then, with a sound like tearing cloth, the figure's head snapped around slowly, inexorably until it faced him. Its chin tilted so far back that he saw the underside of the skull. The eyes empty, black hollows bore into his soul. Yandi's breath caught. He staggered to halt, but his fear was laced with a curious calm. I've never felt anything like this.
The ghost's mouth opened in a crooked grin, lips peeling back to reveal row upon row of jagged teeth. Its voice came then dry, raspy, as if exhaled through a cracked windpipe.
"Aren't you afraid of me?"
Yandi's mind raced. Yet outwardly, he spoke with strange composure. "Why should I be afraid?" he replied quietly. "You've taken on my friend's form." His heart hammered, but his words were steady.
The apparition's grin widened, the shadows under the oak seeming to dance with it. "You're the first person who dared to look at me like this." it rasped. "And the first to show me respect."
Yandi frowned, adrenaline swirling in his veins. "Why am I the first?" he asked, chest tightening. "What about the others who came here before me?"
A long pause. Then the specter's voice slowed, each word dripping with malice. "All who came here before you harbored wicked intentions. They treated this sacred place with contempt. They jeered, they laughed… they defiled what they did not understand. So they perished sacrifices to the darkness or were lost forever, their souls bound to these woods."
Yandi swallowed hard. His mind flashed back to whispered rumors of stranded travelers, never seen again. "What of my friends?" he asked softly, thinking of Agung, Felix, and the others. "Are they doomed too?"
The ghost's head tilted, hair brushing the wet leaves. "They are much like the rest." it said. "None among them showed reverence for these trees, this earth, this life. Except you." Its voice softened, almost wistful. "You are different. You listened. You watched. You spoke kindly."
Before Yandi could respond, the spirit dissolved into the night mist, drifting away between trunks like smoke on the breeze. One moment it stood before him; the next, the glade was empty. Only the wet earth and the echo of its final words remained.
Yandi's legs trembled as he exhaled, the wind stirring the leaves above in a mournful sigh. He knelt, placing a hand where the ghost had lingered, but felt nothing but cold bark and damp moss. His heart pounded, memories of the encounter seared into his mind. Respect the forest… or join those who never return.
He rose slowly, the wrappers in his pocket feeling unbearably heavy. The path ahead as indicated by the scattered wrappers stretched into deeper shadows. Yet something inside him had shifted. He understood now that these clues represented more than directions; they signified a test. Each step would demand care, humility, and patience.
Clutching the snack wrappers, Yandi set off again, his pace steady despite the tremor in his soul. The moon, half-hidden by drifting clouds, cast pale beams through the treetops, illuminating the damp path. Every rustle now seemed a warning, every gust a whisper of unseen watchers. But he no longer felt lost. Instead, he felt chosen tasked with proving himself worthy to these haunted woods.
"A little further," he whispered to the night, flattening his back against the trunk of a massive fir. "I'll find the next clue and I'll make it out of here."
As he moved on, the wind rose to a soft roar, carrying with it the faintest echo of that raspy voice almost a promise. "I will be watching…"
And somewhere, in the depths of the dark forest, Yandi felt he was not entirely alone.