Metaphysical Furniture

  Lucy's Path: Epilogue Morning broke soft and golden, spilling over the rooftops of Pleasant Hollow as if the night had never happened. The woods behind the school stood calm, dew clinging to every leaf. The oak was just a tree again—scarred, hollowed, but harmless. Children would play there someday, unaware of what once stirred beneath its roots. Sarah returned alone a week later. The others had left town—Mark to his parents’ farm, Emily to a hospital somewhere quieter. The air smelled of new rain and chalk dust. She stepped through the fence and knelt at the base of the oak. Something glinted in the soil. She brushed it free: a marble, blue and faintly luminous, warm to the touch. Inside, she swore she saw the swirl of a ribbon—white, endless, turning slowly like a current in water. She smiled, sad but certain. “You always keep a little piece, don’t you?” she murmured. From her pocket, she pulled a folded scrap of paper: the final page of Mrs. Price’s ledger, the names o...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Thirty The ground shuddered as the oak’s hollow yawned wider, breathing air that smelled of rain and old graves. Ribbons and roots whipped through the clearing, each pulse of the forest syncing to the panicked beat of their hearts. Sarah braced herself against the trembling earth. “You said we could take the names back,” she shouted to Emily. “How?” Emily stared at the dying amulet, its light sputtering like a candle in wind. “We speak them,” she said. “All of them. Together.” Mark looked around the clearing—at the ribbons turned to ash, the withered offerings, the faces flickering faintly in the bark. “Then say them. Say every one you can.” The three of them began to chant—Lucy Hargrove, Eleanor Price, Mrs. Adeline, Tyler, Emily—each name another spark against the dark. The oak convulsed, the Lady’s scream rising with the storm around them. “She’s fighting it!” Emily cried. “We need something stronger—something to break the bond!” Sarah tore the ...

Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-nine The sound inside the oak deepened—a slow, rhythmic knocking, as if something vast were testing the walls of its cage. Emily stumbled backward, clutching the amulet. Its glow flickered, weaker now, as though being drained. “She’s waking,” Emily whispered. “We’re out of time.” Sarah grabbed her shoulders. “Then stop it! You said your family kept her sleeping—how?” Emily shook her head, tears streaking down her face. “It wasn’t sleep. It was containment. The offerings weren’t gifts—they were anchors. Every name she took, every trinket she claimed… it held her down.” Mark’s cracked voice rasped through the quiet. “And now there’s nothing left to give.” The forest trembled in agreement. The ribbons that hung from branches began to wither, their colors draining to gray. One by one, they crumbled into ash, leaving the trees bare and empty. Sarah turned to the oak. “If it was the names that bound her—then we take them back.” Emily stared at he...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-eight The Lady’s touch never landed. A sudden wind ripped through the clearing, scattering leaves like shrapnel. The vines recoiled, and the shape before Sarah blurred—then steadied into something smaller, familiar. Emily. She stood barefoot among the briars, eyes glassy but human for the first time in days. The amulet glimmered at her throat, its surface cracked, light pulsing inside like a heartbeat trying to escape. Sarah hesitated. “Emily? Can you hear me?” Emily nodded weakly. “She showed me things,” she whispered. “Our family—the Hargroves, the Prices. We weren’t victims. We were caretakers. Every generation promised something to keep her sleeping.” She shuddered. “But Eleanor broke the pact when she tried to explore what the Lady really was.” Mark’s voice rasped, rough and broken from silence. “So this… all of it… was inherited?” Emily turned toward him, tears streaking through the dirt on her face. “We were supposed to guard her, n...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-seven The forest had grown darker than night should allow. Even the moonlight refused to cross its threshold. Sarah stood at the edge of the clearing, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Mark knelt beside the oak, still silent, his eyes hollow. Tyler was gone—perhaps minutes, perhaps forever. The air shimmered, and the briars parted as if cut by an invisible hand. A shape moved within them—slender, tall, draped in strands of vine and hair. The Lady. She didn’t walk so much as unfold from the dark, her face soft and distant, like someone half-dreamed. Sarah forced her voice steady. “You took them. Lucy. Emily. Tyler. You can end this.” The Lady tilted her head, expression unreadable. “I can end anything. ” Sarah stepped closer. “Then take me. I’ll stay. But they go free.” A smile bloomed, too slow, too knowing. “You would surrender what is not asked of you. That is why you are noticed.” “I’m not your offering,” Sarah said, her voice tremblin...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-six Dusk bled quickly into darkness as they returned to the clearing. The Second Oak loomed ahead, pale as bone and twice as unforgiving. Mark stood before it, the map clutched in one hand, the dull amulet in the other. Sarah’s voice trembled. “We don’t have anything to give.” “Then we fake it,” Mark said. “We go through the motions, maybe that’s enough.” Tyler frowned. “You really think you can trick it?” “Maybe not,” Sarah whispered, “but we can try.” They arranged what they had—empty pockets, worn ribbons, a broken flashlight. Mark placed the amulet at the roots and spoke the words scrawled on the map. The ground shuddered, faint but definite. For a breathless moment, nothing happened. Then the air warped. The trees leaned closer, their shapes bending and stretching like reflections in rippling water. Tyler blinked. “Something’s wrong.” He took a step forward—and vanished. Sarah gasped. “Tyler!” Mark lunged toward the spot, but t...

 Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-five The Hanfield Elementary archive room smelled of paper rot and floor wax. Sarah’s flashlight beam skimmed over metal filing cabinets, stacks of yearbooks, and boxes marked Property of Pleasant Hollow School District. Dust danced in the light like tiny ghosts. Tyler flipped through a stack of yellowed folders. “This is insane,” he muttered. “We’re digging through PTA records like they’ll tell us how to fight a ghost.” Sarah kept searching until she found one labeled 1956–1959: Faculty Correspondence. Inside were typed meeting minutes, faded and warped by time. She read aloud, “Item seven: Discussion of the ‘Harvest Festival’ ceremony—Mrs. Price to oversee annual offering to ensure continued harmony between school and surrounding property.” Tyler blinked. “They wrote it down. Like it was normal.” Further down the page, a phrase caught Sarah’s eye: The children will sing the Lady’s song to ensure she remains enchanted. She whispered the wor...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-four Sarah woke to birdsong that didn’t sound real—too precise, too rehearsed. The campfire had burned down to gray dust, and Mark sat silently where they’d left him, still mouthing words the air refused to carry. Tyler slept fitfully, muttering Emily’s name. Sarah stood, brushing off her jacket. The woods felt… reset. Cleaner somehow. As she turned toward the path, she saw movement near the trees—a flash of pale fabric, the glint of braids. “Lucy?” she called before she could stop herself. The girl stepped into view, hands folded neatly in front of her. She looked younger than in the photographs, almost peaceful. Her eyes were dark but not empty. “You found her,” Lucy said softly. “The Lady likes you. She says you still have a choice.” Sarah swallowed. “What choice?” Lucy pointed toward a patch of freshly turned soil. Beneath it, Sarah unearthed a small tin box. Inside were photographs—children lined up beside the oak, each holding a ribbo...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-three Mark slipped away after midnight, the map folded in his pocket and the amulet burning against his chest. The others slept by the dying campfire, their faces ghosted by ember light. He told himself it wasn’t betrayal—just necessity. Someone had to end this. The forest welcomed him like it had been waiting. Every tree leaned inward, their branches knitting above to swallow the stars. He followed the spiral path until he reached the pale oak, its trunk faintly pulsing with a dim internal light. He knelt, placed the amulet at its roots, and whispered, “Take me instead.” For a moment, nothing. Then the wind died. The hum returned—low, vast, alive. It seeped into his ears until all other sound drained away. He opened his mouth to call out, but no voice came. The silence was complete, suffocating. The woods moved around him—shifting shadows, figures half-seen and half-remembered. The boy from before. A girl with braids. The stone child’s carved eyes gle...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-two They spread the map across the hood of Mark’s car, its paper yellowed and brittle as onion skin. The lines were hand-drawn—crooked, looping through the woods in a spiral that ended at a small mark shaped like an eye. Scrawled beside it, in fading ink, were six words: Place the amulet at dusk. Give what cannot be replaced. Tyler frowned. “That’s not a map. It’s a warning.” Sarah traced the spiral with her finger. “Or an instruction. The Lady’s rules always sound like riddles.” Mark folded the map carefully, tucking it into his jacket. “Then we follow it. If it gets Emily back, we do it.” “Or it takes something worse,” Tyler muttered. “What does that even mean— what cannot be replaced ?” No one answered. By dusk they stood before a different tree, massive and pale, its bark smooth as bone. The amulet throbbed faintly in Mark’s hand, reacting to the place like a compass finding north. The air around the oak shimmered, and deep within the t...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty-One The Hargrove house sat at the edge of town, its porch sagging under years of storms and silence. Curtains drawn, mailbox rusted shut. Sarah hesitated before knocking, half-expecting no answer. But after a long pause, the door opened. Mrs. Hargrove looked smaller than Sarah remembered—thin, tired, eyes red from nights without sleep. “You’re one of Emily’s friends,” she said softly. It wasn’t a question. “Come in.” Inside, the air smelled of dust and lavender. The living room was lined with framed photos: birthday cakes, fishing trips, a girl with two braids—Emily, smiling beside another child. Sarah pointed. “That’s Lucy, isn’t it?” Mrs. Hargrove nodded, sitting heavily on the sofa. “They were inseparable. But Lucy looked up to my sister more than anyone—Eleanor. She was… different. Said the woods had a voice, and that it liked her singing.” Her voice cracked. “The amulet was hers.” Sarah’s stomach turned. “The one Emily found?” “She wor...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twenty Long before the swings rusted and the fence gave way, there was Mrs. Adeline Price—third-grade teacher, widow, and believer in keeping the peace. She arrived in Pleasant Hollow in 1953, a woman with sensible shoes and a laugh that could cut through storm clouds. But she also listened when the children whispered about the woods. They said the Lady hummed when the world went quiet. That she took things—sometimes toys, sometimes pets, sometimes more—if she wasn’t given her due. Most grown-ups dismissed it as playground nonsense. Mrs. Price did not. One spring morning, when the class pet rabbit vanished and the children found ribbons tied to the fence in its place, she decided the Lady’s hunger was real enough. That afternoon, she gathered the class in a circle and told them they would make an offering —a kindness to keep the forest calm. They brought small treasures: marbles, hair clips, toy soldiers. Mrs. Price even tied a faded paper flag from the...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Nineteen Morning crept in without warmth. Mist clung low to the ground, coiling around Sarah’s ankles as she moved through the clearing. The others hadn’t woken yet—Mark slumped against a fallen log, Tyler curled beneath his jacket, trembling in his sleep. The ribbons were everywhere now. They hung from branches, tangled in roots, scattered across the ground like shed skins. Sarah crouched and began gathering them, one by one, just to give her hands something to do. Some were frayed; others looked new, colors bright against the gray dirt. She noticed the first initials almost by accident—L.H. stitched in thread so faint she nearly missed it. Lucy Hargrove. Her throat tightened. She reached for another: M.R., T.B., E.H. Her pulse jumped. Emily Hargrove. The woods stirred, leaves rattling though there was no wind. Somewhere behind her, something small laughed. “Sarah?” Mark’s voice was groggy. “What are you doing?” She held up the ribbons. “It keeps...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Eighteen The trail beyond the clearing looked different than before—too open, too easy. The air shimmered faintly, the way asphalt does on a hot day. Mark, Sarah, and Tyler exchanged a glance, then stepped forward together. The moment they crossed the first ridge of roots, the woods shifted. The trees stretched taller, rearranging themselves with a sound like bones settling. Sarah turned—and Mark and Tyler were gone. “Mark?” she whispered. Only the forest answered, whispering her name in a dozen borrowed voices. Somewhere else, Tyler ran toward the sound of laughter—his sister’s laughter, bright and familiar. He saw her just ahead, the hem of her yellow dress flashing between trunks. “Wait!” he cried. “I thought you were—” He stopped. The girl turned, but her face wasn’t hers. Her eyes were hollow, shining like glass marbles. Mark found himself on a narrow trail lit by a cold blue glow. Ahead stood a boy, maybe ten, with the same crooked grin Mark saw...

 Lucy's Path: Chapter Seventeen They came back after midnight, when the moon was sharp and the town asleep. Mark led the way, flashlight low. The woods seemed wider now, the path rearranged. Every crunch of dirt felt too loud, as if the forest disapproved of their return. When they reached the clearing, the stone child gleamed faintly, its carved faces slick with dew. Small trinkets lay at its feet—buttons, pennies, scraps of ribbon, a cracked marble that pulsed with a luminous heartbeat in the dark. Sarah crouched, voice trembling. “It’s feeding on them. On the noise they made when they were loved.” Tyler glanced up. “That’s insane.” But the air disagreed. A low vibration rolled through the clearing, like something unseen drawing breath. Then—soft, deliberate—Emily’s humming began. Her voice floated from nowhere, sweet and broken, singing words no one recognized. The sound thickened, weaving through the trees until it pressed against them, invisible but solid, like fog tu...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Sixteen They returned at noon, when sunlight could be trusted. The woods looked different by day—ordinary, almost. But as soon as they stepped past the fence, the quiet returned. No birds. No insects. Even their footsteps sounded muffled, as if the air itself was listening. Tyler led, map in hand, tracing the faint pencil mark that labeled The Listening Oak. When they reached it, the tree loomed taller than they remembered, its bark scored with faint white chalk circles—loops drawn by a child’s hand, uneven and incomplete. Sarah crouched to touch one. The chalk smeared easily, fresh despite the dew. “Someone’s been here,” she said. Mark scanned the branches. “Or something.” A low wind moved through the clearing, whispering a half-tune that might have been a lullaby. It wove through the air like a thread, soft and strange. Tyler tilted his head. “You hear that?” Sarah nodded slowly. “It’s saying a name.” She frowned. “But not Lucy’s.” Her necklace...

Lucy's Path: Chapter Fifteen Morning came gray and brittle. The woods looked harmless again—thin trunks, wet leaves, a few tire ruts from hunters. Nothing monstrous about them at all. Yet every sound felt wrong: the breeze too soft, the birdsong too careful, as though the town itself was pretending. Sarah sat on the hood of Mark’s car outside the diner, stirring sugar into a coffee she didn’t want. The paper cup trembled in her hand. “We should tell someone,” she said. “The sheriff, maybe.” Mark shook his head. “And say what? That a ghost kidnapped Emily and the trees applauded?” Tyler, pale and hollow-eyed, stared out the window toward the tree line. “People disappear all the time. Maybe this place eats them.” The waitress, a woman in her sixties, overheard as she poured refills. “You kids talking about Lucy’s Path?” she asked. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “My brother used to walk out there. Said he heard singing. Said it made him feel loved. ” Sarah froze. “Loved?” The woman ...

Lucy's Path: Chapter Fourteen They didn’t stop running until the woods thinned and the rusted swing set came into view again, glowing dull under the moonlight. The sight of it—ordinary, human—nearly broke them. Sarah collapsed onto the gravel, shaking. Tyler bent double, gasping, a cut bleeding down his cheek. Mark stood at the fence line, staring back into the dark trees. “She’s still in there,” he said. “Emily.” Sarah’s voice was raw. “We couldn’t save her. You saw what happened—she changed. ” Mark turned, jaw tight. “No. Something took her. We get people. We go back.” “Who?” Tyler laughed hollowly. “You think anyone’s going to believe this? That the woods swallowed her?” The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the squeak of a single swing moving in the wind. Mark reached out to stop it, but it kept swaying, defying his hand. Then he saw it—scratched faintly into the metal seat, just beneath his palm: WELCOME BACK. Sarah’s stomach turned. “That wasn’t th...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Thirteen The light from the amulet burst outward, searing white and soundless—then came the noise. Not one voice, but a thousand, shrieking and whispering all at once. The forest erupted into a cacophony of laughter, wailing, and something like applause. Mark staggered back, arm shielding his face. “Run!” he shouted, though his voice was swallowed in the roar. Sarah grabbed Tyler’s sleeve, dragging him toward a gap in the trees. The path twisted and shuddered beneath them, branches snapping shut like ribs around a beating heart. Every direction looked the same, every step swallowed by shifting shadows. Behind them, Emily’s voice rose above the din—singing now, tuneless but powerful, as if the words weren’t hers to control. The ground trembled with each note. “Don’t listen!” Tyler yelled, clutching his head. “It gets inside you—don’t let it in!” They burst through a thicket, thorns raking their arms, and stumbled into a shallow ravine where the nois...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Twelve Emily stood perfectly still, her head tilted like she was listening to something none of them could hear. The amulet’s glow pulsed through her fingers, throwing faint light over the stone child’s face. “Give it back,” she said softly. Not a request—an order. “She’s waiting.” Mark took a step forward. “Emily, we’re leaving. Now.” The woods disagreed. Every branch seemed to lean closer, creaking in slow rhythm. The air thickened, humming low and steady, like the world was holding its breath. Sarah’s light swept across the carvings. The gargoyle shapes clung to the stone child’s shoulders, their mouths split wide in silent laughter. “Emily,” she whispered, “does it hurt?” Emily blinked, confusion flashing through her borrowed calm. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s just… loud.” She pressed her free hand to her ear. “She’s happy we came. She celebrates the ones who listen.” Tyler flinched as the hum deepened, vibrating in his ribs. “We’re not listening—we...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Eleven The forest trembled as the red glow flared brighter, pulsing like a signal. Mark stumbled back, shielding his eyes. “We’ve got to move,” he said, but the ground felt slick beneath him—mud rippling as though something massive stirred below. Tyler’s flashlight caught movement near the base of the oak. A shape emerged, crawling from the soil—small, delicate fingers pressing through the dirt. Then another, and another. Dozens of them. Sarah screamed. “They’re coming out!” The hands gripped the roots, pulling shapes into view—children, pale and empty-eyed, faces slick with earth. They looked like Lucy, and yet not. Their mouths moved in unison, whispering her name as if in prayer. Mark grabbed Sarah’s wrist and ran, dragging her down the path. Tyler followed, choking back a sob. Behind them, the whispers grew louder, building into a chorus. It didn’t sound angry—it sounded joyful, feverish, as though the woods had gathered to celebrate a long-awaite...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Ten The sound grew thicker—too many voices, too close. Mark swung his flashlight toward the noise, but the beam flickered, catching only glimpses: faces half-formed between the trees, eyes like candle flames, small hands brushing the bark as they passed. “Run,” Sarah whispered. “Please, Mark—run.” But Mark couldn’t move. His legs felt rooted, as if the soil itself clutched him. The humming deepened, warping into a low, rhythmic chant that throbbed in his chest. Tyler grabbed his sleeve and yanked hard, breaking whatever trance had started to take hold. They stumbled down the path, Sarah close behind. “Emily!” she called, voice panicked, cracking against the night. “Answer me!” From somewhere ahead came a single, drawn-out note—high and mournful. Then silence. They stopped, chests heaving, light beams trembling over the forest floor. The ribbons were everywhere now, bright in the dark, twisting around trunks, hanging from branches, even drifting down...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Nine “Emily!” Sarah’s voice carried too loudly, shattering the hush. No answer. Only the rustle of leaves settling back into place where Emily had vanished. Mark cursed, sweeping his useless flashlight as if sheer force would coax it back to life. “She knows the rules—nobody splits up. We’ve got to go after her.” Tyler shook his head, face pale. “That wasn’t her choice. You saw how she moved—like she was pulled.” The three huddled close, breathing quick. Above them, the branches shifted, letting a stripe of moonlight pierce through. It lit the trail just enough to show the ribbons again, fluttering though no wind touched them. Sarah gripped Mark’s arm. “We can’t just wander in blind. What if she’s already gone?” Mark’s jaw tightened. “If we leave her, she will be gone. Forever. We stick together. No more running off.” Tyler’s eyes darted to the glowing symbol etched into the oak, still pulsing faintly behind them. “What if it wants us all?” The...

 Lucy's Path: Chapter Eight “Emily, don’t!” Sarah’s whisper cracked into panic, but Emily was already moving. The others stood frozen as her flashlight beam bobbed deeper into the trees, chasing the faint glow of Lucy’s small figure. Branches clawed at her sleeves, roots snagged her shoes, but Emily pressed on. She could hear the humming, clearer now, like a lullaby sung just for her. Every few steps, Lucy appeared ahead—always just far enough to stay out of reach. Emily stumbled into a small clearing. At its center stood a weathered stone, taller than she was, carved into the crude shape of a child. Its face was worn smooth except for wide, staring eyes. Perched on its shoulders were smaller figures, hunched like gargoyles, their mouths open in jagged grins. Lucy stood beside the stone, her hand resting on it as if it were a guardian. She tilted her head again, and Emily felt the weight of those eyeless carvings watching her. The humming stopped. Silence spread like a held b...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Seven The path bent sharply, and there she was. A small figure stood ahead, half-lit in the jittering beams of their flashlights. She couldn’t have been more than seven, hair hanging in tangled braids, dress faded and dirty. Her face was pale, blurred somehow, as if the woods themselves didn’t want it fully seen. Emily gasped. “Lucy…” The girl didn’t move. She only tilted her head, as though listening to something far away. Then, softly, she began to hum the same tune that had drifted on the wind. Sarah grabbed Emily’s arm. “We need to go. Now.” But Emily shook her head. “She looks lost. Like she’s been waiting.” Mark raised his light, but it sputtered and died. In the dark, Lucy’s shape glowed faintly, her small hand rising as if to beckon. Tyler whispered, “She’s not real. She’s like… a dream. Just a dream we all happen to be having.” The girl smiled at that, lips barely curling, and the woods shivered as though they approved. Then she turne...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Six The woods pressed in tighter the farther they walked. Their flashlights flickered, as if the batteries were already giving up. Tyler muttered, “We’re not even moving forward. It feels like the path keeps folding back on itself.” Mark snorted. “That’s just nerves. Keep walking.” But Sarah stopped short. “No—look.” She pointed at the trees ahead. A bundle of sticks dangled from a branch, bound with twine. Just above it, another bundle hung, and another, stacked upward in a crooked ladder that seemed to climb into the darkness. Emily whispered, “Like someone wanted to build a staircase… to nowhere.” The wind picked up, carrying a faint, tuneless humming. The sound wrapped around them, hard to tell if it was in front or behind. Mark forced himself forward, brushing beneath the hanging sticks. “It’s just kids messing around. Don’t let it freak you out.” His voice was steady, but his steps quickened. Emily trailed close behind. She swore she felt a ...

  NOTE: Today's guest blogger is Skragg, the King of the Herpezoids. Or, as he is known in his human form: Jerry. Jerry wishes to use this space to share some common misconceptions about Herpezoids. Greetings, human readers of this “blog.” I have been informed that these are where you overshare thoughts you could have kept to yourself. Excellent. I shall overshare as well. Allow me to address a few misconceptions about Herpezoids—because apparently, the propaganda machine known as “Corporate” has been spreading lies again. We are not monsters. We are a proud, nomadic species with rich cultural traditions—like conquest, body-hopping, and avoiding the written word at all costs. Yes, it’s true: books make us queasy. The sight of a paragraph can send a Herpezoid into a full existential spiral. We don’t know why. Something about “letters forming ideas” feels… dangerous. But do you mock the vampire for fearing sunlight? The werewolf for flinching at silver? No! You write fanfiction a...

 Lucy's Path: Chapter Five They should have run. Every instinct screamed it. But Mark raised his flashlight like a sword and said, “We’ve come this far. We can’t just bail.” Sarah shook her head. “Are you insane? That tree moved. Some… thing… laughed.” Her voice cracked. “We need to get out before it decides we’re next.” Emily clutched the amulet tighter. “If Lucy’s still here, maybe she can’t escape. Maybe that’s why the ribbons keep showing up. She’s… marking the way.” “That’s nuts,” Tyler muttered, though his eyes darted nervously toward the shadows. Mark pushed ahead, brushing aside brambles. “Call me crazy, but I don’t want to be the guy who runs home screaming because a tree made a noise. Ten more minutes, we see what’s out here.” The others hesitated, caught between reason and pride. Finally, with a chorus of nervous sighs, they followed. The path narrowed, branches clawing their sleeves. Strange shapes appeared between the trees. Bundles of sticks arranged in pa...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Four The oak loomed ahead, its gnarled roots twisting like frozen snakes. The teens slowed, drawn toward it and repelled at once. Ribbons dangled from the lower branches—faded scraps of fabric, brittle with age. Some were tied in careful knots, others shredded as if clawed apart. Emily slipped the amulet into her pocket, her hand trembling. “She tied ribbons here,” she whispered. “Lucy.” Mark stepped forward, forcing an exuberant laugh that rang too loud in the silence. “See? Nothing to it. Just an ugly old tree with some arts-and-crafts.” He slapped the bark with his palm. The tree groaned. Low, deep, like something breathing beneath the soil. Sarah yelped, dropping her flashlight. Its beam spun across the ground, catching a new ribbon twisting down from nowhere—red, wet, glistening as if freshly torn. Tyler stumbled back. “That wasn’t here before! Right?” The oak shuddered again, and the symbol carved into its trunk—the eye inside the teeth—seem...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Three The path closed around them like a throat. Their flashlights cut thin beams through the brush, glinting off damp leaves and spider silk. No one spoke for the first hundred steps; even Mark’s swagger seemed to falter. Emily stopped, squinting at something half-buried in the dirt. She crouched, brushing away pine needles until her hand closed on a small object—round, cold, etched with uneven lines. She lifted it into the light. “It’s like an amulet,” she whispered. The carving was crude: a circle of teeth, an eye scratched at its center. “Don’t touch that!” Sarah hissed, but Emily was already holding it up, her hand to the trees. Mark forced a laugh. “It’s probably just junk. Some kid messing around.” Still, he didn’t look too closely at it. Tyler shifted uneasily, glancing behind them. “Feels like the woods got quieter.” It was true. The crickets had gone still, the wind muted. Only the sound of Emily’s quick and shallow breathing filled the ...

  Lucy's Path: Chapter Two Every small town has its dares, and for Pleasant Hollow, it was Lucy’s Path. The woods behind the elementary school weren’t much—thin trees, muddy roots, a tangle of briars—but everyone knew the story. Lucy vanished there, and folks said she still walked it, humming in the dark. On a brisk October night, four teenagers gathered by the rusted swing set, flashlights buzzing with weak batteries. “Come on,” said Mark, the oldest. “We walk the path, reach the oak, tie a ribbon, and we’re legends.” He twirled his flashlight with a theatrical flourish, like he was leading a parade instead of tempting fate. Emily tugged her jacket tighter. “People say the woods don’t let you out if you go too far.” “That’s just part of the story,” laughed Tyler, though his voice cracked. Sarah kicked at the gravel. “So why does no one ever go past the oak?” The group stood in silence, listening to the wind hiss through the chain-link fence. Then, one by one, they ducked...