It was so dark.
The kind of darkness that swallowed everything. Even the moon seemed afraid to shine through the dense canopy above. Towering trees loomed like ancient guardians, their limbs creaking as though whispering secrets to one another. The air was thick, damp, and heavy with silence except for the distant gurgle of a river and the eerie cries of night birds echoing through the forest.
She stood frozen. Confused. Alone.
Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, a frantic rhythm of fear. The cold air bit at her skin, but the chill in her bones came from something deeper, something ancient and paralyzing. She turned in frantic circles, eyes darting between the shadows, hoping to catch sight of something familiar. But there was nothing. Her sisters are gone. Vanished as if they had never been there at all.
Panic gnawed at her.
She didn't know if it was smart to call out. What if someone or something was out there? But what if no one ever found her if she stayed quiet? Her mind spiraled with worst-case scenarios. Wolves. Strangers. Monsters she didn't even have names for.
After long minutes of silent torment, she made a decision call for help. She had to. She didn't want to die here, buried under the weight of her silence and fear.
She opened her mouth.
Nothing.
Not a sound. Not a whisper.
She blinked. Tried again. And again. Her throat moved, her lungs pushed, but her voice was gone. Completely gone. It was as if the forest had stolen it the moment she stepped inside.
Terror bloomed into full hysteria.
Her hands trembled.
Her knees threatened to give way.
She clutched her chest, gasping soundlessly.
Why?
Why now?
Why always me?
She kept forcing it to make any sound, any whisper but her body betrayed her, like it always did. The more she pushed, the more it hurt. Her chest burned. Her lips quivered. The silence grew heavier, more deafening, wrapping around her like chains.
And then she broke.
Tears welled in her eyes, hot and fast, burning trails down her cold cheeks. Her legs finally gave out, and she crumpled to the forest floor, shoulders shaking violently.
"Not again…" she mouthed, her sobs muted, her face twisted with helpless grief.
She hated this part of herself.
Hated how easily she fell apart.
Hated how no matter how hard she tried, she could never be the strong one.
She always needed saving. Always the burden. The girl who cried instead of fought, who hid instead of faced.
She curled into herself, as if she could disappear from her own shame.
Why am I like this?
Why can't I be brave, just once?
Just once…
But deep down, a cruel little voice whispered: Because you were never meant to survive alone.
And for the first time, she started to believe it.
It didn't end there.
The voice inside her no longer a whisper turned into a roar. It crashed through her mind like a violent wave, drowning out reason, swallowing everything else. It wasn't just a thought anymore. It had become something else. Something louder. Sharper. Crueler.
"You're weak."
"You've always been weak."
"No one's coming for you."
"They left you… just like they always do."
It echoed with a terrible clarity, like it wasn't her own mind speaking, but something ancient inside her. Something that had waited for this moment.
The sound became unbearable. It stabbed at her temples, wrapped around her head like iron bands. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears, trying to shut it out.
But it kept going. Louder. Meaner. Realer.
She could almost hear it in the air not just inside her, but around her. Like the forest was echoing her shame, taunting her, feeding on her fear.
Even the birds stopped singing.
She let out a silent scream, her mouth open wide, throat straining uselessly. Her fingers dug into the sides of her skull as if she could rip the voice out by force. She rocked back and forth, desperation writhing inside her like a storm.
"Make it stop… please…"
She didn't know who she was begging.
Herself?
The forest?
The moon that refused to shine?
But no one answered. Nothing answered. Only the voice.
"You're better off fading into the dark. No one will miss you. Not even him."
Her eyes snapped open.
That voice knew something. That last word. Him.
The ground beneath her shivered.
Not an earthquake. Not a breeze.
It was subtle like the forest had inhaled sharply, holding its breath. The trees stood still, frozen in time, their branches unmoving despite the wind that had howled moments before. The temperature dropped in an instant, her breath now visible in thin, silver puffs.
And then, the leaves began to move.
But not with the wind. They twisted and curled in unison, spinning in tight spirals around her as if caught in some invisible current. A low hum vibrated through the air not from above, not from the ground, but everywhere at once.
She looked up, heart thundering.
And there it was.
A figure.
Or… a shadow. It stood between the trees not quite shaped like a person, but not quite anything else either. Taller than any man she had ever seen. Its edges shimmered like smoke on water, and where its face should've been, there was only darkness. Deep. Watching.
Her body refused to move.
A sudden pressure filled the air, like the forest itself was leaning in to listen. And then...
It whispered her name.
Not aloud.
Not in sound.
But in her mind. Cold and clear and certain.
"Freya."
The voice was nothing like the cruel one inside her head. This one was older. Deeper. As if the trees themselves had spoken her name with a reverence that chilled her bones.
Her breath caught. She hadn't heard her name in what felt like hours. Hadn't even remembered to think about it. But now here it was spoken back to her by something that should not know it.
The figure began to move.
Slowly.
Soundlessly.
Its limbs were gilded rather than stepped, and with each motion, the trees bent slightly, like they were bowing or recoiling in fear.
Freya's voice might have been gone, but her instincts screamed.
Run.
She scrambled to her feet, legs unsteady, heart clanging in her chest. She didn't dare look back. Whatever that thing was, whatever power had whispered her name it had found her.
And somehow, she knew this was just the beginning… it was going to come after her and ....
She felt a strong push.
Not just a push… .
Pain seared through her shoulder, sharp and hot like a brand.
"Freya!!"
Her name echoed louder now. Urgent. Close.
The forest around her tilted, the trees warping, stretching. The shadows melted together into a black void, swallowing the light. Her legs buckled. Her body collapsed again, but this time, she didn't feel the ground.
She was falling.
Falling into nothing.
"Freya, wake up!"
A blinding light slammed into her eyes. She gasped, her whole body jolting.
She was no longer in the forest.
Gone were the trees. Gone was the darkness, the humming, the shadow, the voice.
She was staring at a cracked white ceiling, faint morning light spilling through the half-open blinds.
Her bedsheets were tangled around her legs, damp with sweat. Her heart still pounded like a drum in her chest, her skin clammy, her breath ragged.
A girl leaned over her wide-eyed, familiar.
"Freya, thank the Moon. You were screaming in your sleep."
She blinked.
Sleep?
No forest. No shadow. No whispered name from the trees.
A dream.
Just a dream.
But as she sat up slowly, rubbing her shoulder where the pain still lingered, something inside her whispered—
"Not just a dream."
And Freya wasn't sure if she believed it either.