The voice was bone-chilling—low, distorted, and echoing like a whisper from a grave. It slithered through the cold air, sending prickles down Becky's spine.
"We should go back," Becky said, her voice trembling. "Maybe the others who went missing... maybe they've returned."
But Starr wasn't listening.
Eyes sharp, jaw clenched, she stepped deeper into the woods. The eerie voice hadn't shaken her—it had *called* her. Something inside urged her forward, a pull she couldn't explain.
"Starr, please," Becky whispered, trailing behind. Her eyes darted left and right, terrified they might miss something—or worse, *see* something.
They moved slowly, branches crunching under their feet, moonlight flickering through the trees like trembling hands. Then, Starr stopped.
A structure loomed ahead—an old, cracked wall, hidden behind a thicket of dead vines and moss. It looked ancient, forgotten by time.
On it, *boldly scrawled in blood*, were words that froze the air around them:
*"Through mass... the many are undone."*
*"Through Maxwell... the veil is torn."*
Below the writing, a strange symbol was etched deep into the stone—impossible geometry, lines twisting into shapes that seemed to move when you stared too long.
The forest fell silent.
Starr reached out a hand toward the symbol, breath shallow.
Suddenly, the wind howled—sharp and angry. The trees shook. Behind them, something cracked like bone.
She looked around.
*No Becky.*
The silence grew heavy. The trees loomed taller, and the air felt tighter, like the forest itself was closing in.
"Becky?" Starr called, spinning in place. "Where did you wander off to?"
No answer. Just the wind hissing through the leaves.
She turned back the way they came—but froze.
*The path was gone.*
Completely swallowed by the woods.
And where the blood-stained wall once stood… now stood a *mirror*. Tall. Ancient. The glass was cracked down the middle like lightning had struck it. And yet, it reflected perfectly.
She stepped closer.
Her own image stared back—alone.
No exit. No trees. Just the distorted version of herself blinking back from the fractured glass. The voice in her head screamed:
*"You're trapped."*
Panic crept in like rising water.
"How do I get out?" she muttered, turning in circles, trying to find anything familiar—anything *real*. But every step brought her back to the mirror. Over and over again.
She tried running.
She tried screaming.
She tried smashing the mirror with a rock.
Each time, she ended up where she started—standing before that same cracked reflection, like the forest was *looping her*. A cursed maze with no exit.
It was as though time itself was folding in on her.
Breath ragged, knees shaking, she collapsed to the ground, defeated. Dirt and dead leaves clung to her palms.
She whispered to herself, "Is this… how the others disappeared this morning?"
Her voice echoed strangely—as if someone else repeated it deeper in the woods.
She froze.
She wasn't alone anymore.
On the cold floor she had collapsed on, Starr noticed something—strange markings carved into the dirt. Symbols. Spirals. All of them branching out in crooked lines… and each line pointed to a *mirror*.
Her skin prickled.
She glanced around. The world outside the woods had grown unnaturally silent. Even the wind had stopped.
It was nighttime now. She didn't remember the sun setting.
"*Hah—f**ing bastard!**" she screamed, tugging at her hair in frustration. Her voice echoed off the trees—but no one answered.
Suddenly, a strange memory surfaced in her mind. Her grandma's voice, whispering across time:
*"Whenever you feel trapped… take off your earring. There's a silver pin hidden inside. Prick your finger, close your eyes, and hold your breath for 30 seconds. When you open your eyes… everything will be over."*
Back then, Starr thought it was just a weird superstition. Some strange coping trick her grandma had invented.
But now?
This was no psychological trick.
It was real. And *wrong*.
With trembling hands, she removed the earring—just as her grandma said. Sure enough, a tiny silver pin was tucked inside the hollow bead.
She took a breath. Closed her eyes. Pierced her skin.
*One. Two. Three…*
The moment the 30 seconds passed, she gasped and opened her eyes.
The mirror was *gone*.
No markings.
No cracked reflection.
No looping forest.
It was as if *none of it* had ever been there.
But her bleeding finger told her otherwise.
She was free.
"Oh my God... it worked," she gasped, her voice shaky with disbelief.
*"It worked!"* she cried again, louder this time, her joy echoing through the trees.
But something was off. She hadn't taken a single step, yet somehow, she was back at the forest edge. It felt as if an unseen force had yanked her through time and space. She had no memory of walking, running, or even choosing a direction. She was just... there.
*Starr didn't sleep.*
Her eyes remained wide open until the first light broke through the sky.
Before dawn, she returned to the camp—silent, pale, trembling. She saw Maxwell and Liam laughing near the fire, tossing twigs into the flames, roasting marshmallows like nothing had happened.
She scanned the area, searching for familiar faces. Becky. Chad. Mirabel. Bisi. Nothing.
Her throat tightened. She turned to the nearest person and asked,
*"Have the three missing people returned yet?"*
The person raised an eyebrow. "*Missing people?*" they repeated, puzzled.
Starr's heart pounded.
*"Yes! Chad, Mirabel, and Bisi! They disappeared yesterday in the woods—don't you remember?"* she insisted, desperation creeping into her voice.
The person looked at her like she was speaking another language.
*"No one went missing yesterday… and I've never heard those names before.
"Are those people you mentioned... are they even part of our group?" the person asked, clearly baffled.
Starr felt the blood drain from her face.
*What happened while I was gone?* she wondered in horror.
Suddenly, Vivian came sprinting toward her, breathless.
"Starr!"
"Starr! Where have you been? I've been looking for you since yesterday!"
Starr blinked at her, confused, but Vivian continued without pause.
"Something's wrong. Everyone has been acting strange since yesterday. They speak in broken, jumbled words… almost like they're chanting. Like some kind of incantation. And they all seem to have forgotten things — like they woke up without any memories."
Starr stared at her, trying to process it all.
*"How is that even possible?"* she asked, stunned. "Did they drink something? Maybe they're just not sober yet?"
But even as she said it, she knew it didn't make sense.
"They look fine. Lively, even," she muttered to herself.
She rubbed her temples, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up with her.
"I need to lie down. If Mrs. Grace comes around, just tell her I'm tired," she said to Vivian and turned to leave.
But just as she took a step, a thought struck her like a jolt.
"Wait... did you see Becky?" she asked quickly, scanning the camp again. Becky wasn't there. She wasn't with the group. She wasn't anywhere.
"She's not with you?" Vivian asked, startled.
Starr shook her head. "No... she left me halfway through the trail. I thought she returned. Why hasn't she come back?"
Vivian's eyes darkened with worry, but before they could say more, the day took a darker turn.
Later that afternoon, two students — *Ella* and *Charles* — never emerged from their tent. At first, no one noticed. But as dusk approached and the camp quieted, their absence became undeniable.
Liam went to check on them. He called their names. No response. He pulled at the zipper.
It was sealed — from the *outside*.
When he finally got it open, everyone gathered.
But inside...
Nothing.
Just a pile of *ashes*.
And on the floor of the tent, burned into the fabric, was a familiar symbol — the same strange marking from the mirror room Starr had escaped.
A chill gripped her spine.
"We need to leave," Starr shouted, backing away, panic rising in her throat.
Her voice trembled, but it was firm.
*"We need to leave this place. Right now."*
She turned, locking eyes with Vivian.
"This place is *hunted*."