I can still feel the weight of the book in my hands, the pages bound in human skin, the words on the pages written in blood. I can still hear the chanting of the ritual, the malevolent energy that surrounded us, and the whispers in the darkness that followed. But what haunts me most is the fate of my friends, James and Liam, and the darkness that consumed them.
After we left the cabin that day, I thought we had dodged a bullet. I was wrong. A few days later, James and Liam started acting strange. They were pale, withdrawn, and didn’t want to talk about what had happened in the cabin. I tried to talk to them, to get them to open up, but they wouldn’t say a word.
Then, they disappeared.
At first, I thought maybe they had just run away, that they were scared of what we had done in the cabin. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, it became clear that something more sinister was going on.
I went to the police, but they didn’t believe me. They thought that James and Liam had just left town, that they were just rebellious teenagers acting out. But I knew the truth. I knew that the darkness we had unleashed in the cabin had taken them.
I started to see things, dark shadows in the corners of my vision, whispers in the night. I knew that the darkness was following me, that it was coming for me next. But I couldn’t stop. I had to find out what had happened to James and Liam, and what we had done in the cabin.
So, I went back. I went back to the cabin, to the symbols etched into the walls, to the book of dark spells. And that’s when I saw them. James and Liam, their bodies twisted and contorted, their eyes black pits of darkness. They were no longer human, no longer my friends.
They attacked me, clawing at my flesh, tearing me apart. I fought back, but it was no use. The darkness had consumed them, and now it was consuming me too.
And that’s when I realized the truth. The cabin was not abandoned. It had been used for dark rituals for generations, passed down from one generation to the next. The symbols on the walls were not just random etchings, but a map to a world beyond our own, a world of darkness and despair.
I was the last one, the last of my friends to fall. And now, I am just a vessel for the darkness, a pawn in its endless game. I wander the woods, seeking out new victims to feed the darkness, to keep it alive.
And that’s why I’m writing this. Not as a warning, not as a plea for help, but as a testament to the power of the darkness. It’s out there, waiting for you, lurking in the shadows, waiting for you to make a mistake, to stumble into its grasp.
So be careful, be wary, and always watch your back. The darkness is coming, and it’s hungry.