Ethereal Encounter
A Chilling Short Story by Kumaraswamy
Artwork by Kumaraswamy | Mobile Art Collection
The forest was alive, yet eerily silent, as if holding its breath. Shafts of red and blue light filtered through the dense canopy, painting the air with an otherworldly glow. The underbrush crackled softly underfoot, the only sound in the oppressive stillness.
And then, she appeared.
Emerging from the shadows like a phantom, the woman stood amidst the tangled roots and creeping vines. Her fiery red hair burned against the warm backdrop of glowing foliage, cascading in unruly waves that framed her pale, haunting face. She wore a flowing black dress that seemed to absorb the light around it, making her appear both a part of the forest and a force apart from it.
Her glowing eyes—amber, flickering like embers—met yours, freezing you in place. They were not human, and yet they were not entirely alien. They were filled with a silent warning, a sorrowful depth that spoke of ancient secrets and unspoken loss.
On her shoulder, a small bird perched—a raven with feathers so iridescent they shimmered in blues and purples under the faint glow of the forest light. It tilted its head, as if studying you with the same intensity as its mistress.
The woman’s head tilted slightly, her gaze unbroken. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something disconcerting in her presence. It wasn’t outright hostility—it was more like an unspoken question, a test you didn’t know you were taking.
The forest seemed to pulse around her, as if her very being was connected to its rhythm. The plants seemed to sway toward her, the colors around her intensifying—reds deepening to crimson, blues darkening to midnight. The air grew heavier, warmer, and you felt a strange pull, like gravity itself was shifting.
The bird let out a low, haunting caw, breaking the silence. Her lips moved, though no sound escaped them, and the raven took flight, circling above you before disappearing into the crimson-tinged trees.
She took a single step forward, the shadows around her twisting unnaturally. Your heart raced, and the instinct to run gripped you. Yet, her gaze held you captive, as if daring you to stay and face the unknown.
Then, without warning, she bent her head lower, her face partially obscured by the red waves of her hair. Her glowing eyes never left yours. A chill ran through you as she raised a single finger, pointing behind you.
You turned slowly, compelled by something greater than curiosity, and froze.
Behind you, the forest had changed. The path you’d come from was no longer there. Instead, an endless corridor of trees stretched into the unknown, their trunks twisted and glowing faintly. Whispers floated on the air, incomprehensible yet undeniably present.
When you turned back, she was gone. Only a faint shimmer of red light remained where she had stood, and a single black feather lay on the ground.
As you picked it up, the whispers grew louder, and the forest began to shift again. You knew, without a doubt, that you were no longer in the same place—or perhaps not even the same world.
The encounter had changed you, though you didn’t yet understand how. The woman and her raven had been a warning, a guardian of the forest’s secrets. But what those secrets were, and why they had chosen you, remained to be seen.
The feather in your hand burned faintly with an ethereal warmth. It was a key, a message, or perhaps a curse.
You would find out soon enough.
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