Semua Bab A Night at Wildwood: Bab 11 - Bab 20

The world spun violently before Ben’s eyes, the dark shapes of trees and the cold, sharp air blending into a chaotic blur. His body felt weightless, his limbs numb as though he were floating, lost between worlds. He tried to scream, but no sound came, and the darkness thickened, suffocating him, drowning him in a void deeper than anything he had ever felt before. When the world finally righted itself, he found himself back at the camp. But it wasn’t the camp as he remembered. It was something worse, something twisted. The ground was slick with dark, inky tendrils that seemed to crawl toward him, wrapping around his ankles and tugging at his feet. The trees were even more grotesque, their gnarled limbs stretching upward like the hands of a thousand corpses reaching for the sky. And there, standing in the center of it all, was WildWood itself. Not a place. Not a collection of trees and stone. No, it was more than that now. It was a presence, an entity, a force that lived and breathed

The world shifted again, violently, and Ben’s vision went white as he tumbled through the air. The wind whipped past his face, and for a moment, he thought he might be falling — falling back into WildWood’s grasp. But then, just as quickly, the sensation stopped. He hit the ground hard, his body crashing into something solid and familiar. He groaned, blinking through the blinding sunlight, his breath ragged. When his eyes focused, he saw it — the road. The one that led home. The familiar stretch of asphalt that ran through the town. He wasn’t in WildWood anymore. He had crossed over. For a moment, Ben lay there, gasping for air, his heart still racing in his chest, the taste of the forest still fresh on his tongue. He had done it. He had escaped. The woods were behind him. The shadows were gone. But as he lay there, catching his breath, a cold shiver ran down his spine. Somewhere deep in the distance, beyond the trees, he could hear it again. The faint sound of laughter. Twiste

Ben didn’t know how long he was gone. Time seemed to lose meaning in the place between waking and death, in the suffocating grip of WildWood. When his senses returned, it was as though his very soul had been torn and rewritten. He was kneeling on the cold, wet ground, his hands pressed into the dirt. His chest heaved with shallow breaths, but his body felt heavy, weighed down with an oppressive force. He could hear the voices again — distant, faint whispers like rustling leaves. “You’re one of us now, Ben,” came a voice that wasn’t his own, but he recognized it. It was Mark’s voice, but warped, twisted. Hollow. “You’ll never leave.” The world around him was darker than it had ever been. The trees were not just trees anymore; they were part of him, feeding off his fear, feeding off the very essence of his soul. They had wrapped themselves around him like vines, as if the forest had claimed him, had devoured him whole. The laughter came again — loud, cruel, and sharp — echoing around

It had been years since Ben, Mark, Dylan, and the others had fallen into the dark embrace of WildWood. The town had long since whispered their names, calling them the lost, the ones who never came back, but the woods didn’t forget. WildWood was patient, waiting in the silence, hungry for the next piece to devour. And now, a new group of kids were about to stumble into the same trap. ⸻ The night was alive with the hum of crickets and the low rustle of the wind in the trees, the air thick with the promise of something darker. It was supposed to be just another dare. Another night of foolish bravado, of kids trying to prove something — to their friends, to their own fragile sense of immortality. Four friends. Two girls, two boys. All seniors, all hungry for something beyond their small town lives. Grace, the quiet one. Intelligent, sharp, but always on the outside, watching the others, trying to make sense of the world. Travis, her best friend. Always the jokester, the one

The forest had consumed them all. One by one, the group had fallen, swallowed whole by the insatiable hunger of WildWood. Jake’s mind was slipping, the lines between reality and nightmare blurring. He could no longer tell if the shadows that stalked them were part of the forest, or if they were the twisted souls of those who had gone before him — those who had failed to escape. The air around him was thick with suffocating dread. The trees whispered his name. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the leaves made his skin crawl. WildWood was alive, alive in a way that twisted the very essence of the forest itself. It wasn’t just a place. It was a creature, an entity that fed off fear, sorrow, and despair. Jake stumbled forward, Grace’s hand clutching his as they ran. The others — Lily, Jack, and the others who had been with them — were long gone. The forest had claimed them, just as it had claimed the souls of those before. But Jake refused to give in. Not yet. Not without a figh