Jason Miller was sixteen years old and in his second year of high school. He wasn't the loud type. He liked to draw, read mystery books, and stay quiet. He had a few close friends—Tyler, Mia, and Ben—who understood him.
One day, the school planned a weekend camping trip to Blackpine Forest. It was a thick, wild place about three hours away from their town. People said strange things about it. Some said they heard whispers in the woods. Others claimed the trees moved when no one was looking.
Jason didn't believe in ghost stories. He was excited to sketch the tall trees, birds, and old stones in his notebook.
They arrived at the edge of the forest on Friday morning. The teachers led the students through winding trails and tall grass. Birds chirped, and the sun peeked through the branches. After two hours of walking, they reached the campsite beside a small river.
That night, after dinner and marshmallows, everyone sat around the fire. Tyler told a story about a hunter who got lost in these woods and never returned.
"He found a house made of bones," Tyler said, making his voice deep. "He went inside... and was never seen again."
Everyone laughed nervously, but Jason kept quiet. He looked at the trees beyond the fire. The wind whistled through the leaves like a whisper.
That night, as he fell asleep in his tent, Jason had a strange dream.
He stood in the woods. Alone.
And someone was calling his name.