Whispers of the Forgotten Pines

Ethan barely had time to react before the wooden floor beneath them splintered.

A deafening crack echoed through the basement, and suddenly, the ground gave way. The boards snapped like brittle bones, and they were falling.

Eleanor screamed. Clara grabbed at the air, her fingers clawing for something to hold onto. Ethan twisted midair, his stomach lurching as the three of them tumbled into the darkness below.

Then—impact.

Ethan hit the ground hard, pain jolting through his body. Dust and debris rained down around them. His flashlight flickered, rolling a few feet away, casting long, erratic shadows across the damp stone walls.

He groaned, pushing himself onto his hands and knees. "Is everyone okay?"

A cough. Clara's voice, hoarse. "Define 'okay'…"

Eleanor whimpered beside them, clutching her ankle. "I— I think I twisted it."

Ethan grabbed the flashlight, lifting it toward their surroundings.

They were in some kind of underground tunnel. The walls were rough, carved from dark stone, lined with patches of moss that looked disturbingly wet. The air was thick, stale, and wrong.

Clara exhaled shakily. "What the hell is this place?"

Eleanor trembled. "I… I don't know. But this isn't just a basement."

Ethan stood, brushing dust from his jacket. "No kidding." He turned, aiming the flashlight deeper into the tunnel. The passage stretched forward into absolute blackness.

A shiver crawled down his spine. "I think we're supposed to go that way."

Clara glared at him. "Says who? The mysterious voices that should not exist?"

Ethan ignored her. He took a tentative step forward, shining the light ahead. The tunnel sloped downward, the air growing colder with every step.

The whispering returned.

Low. Indistinct. Moving.

Eleanor gasped, clutching Ethan's arm. "It's… coming from the walls."

Ethan pressed his hand against the rough stone. It was vibrating.

A sudden thought struck him—this place is alive.

Clara exhaled sharply. "I swear to God, if something jumps out at us, I'm punching it."

Ethan almost smiled at that. Almost.

Then, the whispers stopped.

Silence.

The kind that made your ears ring.

Eleanor swallowed. "I don't like this."

Ethan didn't either. But they had no choice.

They moved forward, deeper into the tunnel. The walls felt tighter, the air heavier. The deeper they went, the more Ethan felt like something was watching.

Then they saw it.

A door.

Not a wooden one. Not an old, rusted metal one.

This door was black. Glossy. Too perfect. Like it didn't belong in this world.

Clara took a step back. "Nope. Absolutely not."

Eleanor's breathing quickened. "It's— It's humming."

Ethan stepped closer, pressing a hand against the surface. A pulse of energy shot through his palm, sending a sharp chill down his spine.

It felt like the door was… breathing.

And then—

Knock.

A single, slow knock from the other side.

Eleanor screamed.

Ethan yanked his hand away.

Then, the door creaked open.

And what was behind it…

Was waiting for them.