Prologue
In the middle of a forest, was a clearing. One day, some people found the clearing, and thought, "Cool, a peaceful, calm place. Let's make a village here." I don't think they thought ahead, though, it's isolated from society. Sounds pretty sad and lonely, right? Anyways, they made a village there by cutting trees for building material and, well, making houses. The space where the trees used to be had a river, so it was where people would get their water, and plant crops near. Most of the residents were people who'd gotten lost, stumbled here, and decided to stay. They called it a cursed forest because they'd get lost and not be able to find a way out. A few people who wandered in the forest long enough and managed to leave, told others about it. That's how it got to be called "The Forest of the Lost" by outsiders. Few people ever entered the forest from then on, for fear of getting, well, lost.
One day, at the edge of the village, a resident found a well. They asked around and no one knew where it came from. They returned to the well to hear cries from it. Since then, wanderers in the forests have reported hearing whispers.
(3rd Person)
A child is sleeping in his bed. He begins shifting around, waking up. Once he woke up, he sat up on his bed. His name is Noah. He yawns then says, "Ah, another great day! I should see what my chores are today."
Noah got up and walked out of his room into the living room. There's a TV on a table against the wall, and a red-orange couch in the middle of the room, facing the TV. Noah's father is on the couch, trying to find a good channel out of the few they get out in a forest. (The only reason there's electricity and internet is because this forest just be special like that) His father turned and saw him, and said, "Oh, finally awake, sleepyhead!"
"Sorry, dad!" Noah responded.
"Ah, it's alright! If you're looking, breakfast and the chore list is on the dining table," his father said, pointing to a table in another room. The rooms don't have doors, so you could look into one room from another. Noah walked into the kitchen and turned right towards the dining table. The table was a square, with a chair on each side. He saw a couple of scrambled eggs and a 3-pancake stack on a plate, along with a piece of paper, in front of a chair. He sat down in the chair and started reading over the list as he ate his food. Once he finished his food, he went back into his room to change into new clothes. He put on a dark red hoodie with navy blue stripes on the sleeves, over his white shirt. He changed his white, knee-length shorts into a slightly more flexible gray pair. He put on a pair of plain, white socks, and some shoes over them. Afterwards, he left the house through a door in the living room, grabbing a basket.
Noah walked to the backyard of the house for his first chore; tending to the garden. He opened the fence gate that led inside, putting the basket down and picking up two wooden buckets with water as he walked by.
"So, which of these plants needs watering, and which need to be harvested," Noah mumbled under his breath. He set down the bucket in his left hand and started to walk around the square garden plots. There were carrots, lettuce, an apple tree, and a banana tree. He picked 4 apples, 5 bananas, and watered the trees. He put the bucket down and collected the 9 carrots and 4 heads of lettuce. Afterwards, he replanted them and used the rest of the water. He put all of food into the basket and brought it inside the house to the kitchen counter by the fridge. "Dad, how much of it do you want me to bring to the food market to trade?" Noah asked his father.
"I think it'll be fine to keep the smaller half and bring the larger one to trade," his father called from the living room. Noah opened the fridge, put 2 apples on the left drawer at the bottom, 4 carrots and 2 lettuce heads at the shelf above, and closed the fridge. He put 2 bananas on a banana holder by the fridge, then walked back out with what was left in the basket.
Noah grabbed his chore list from the basket and began looking over it to see what he needed to get from the market. "Okay, so I need to get 3 tomatoes, a watermelon, 3 cucumbers, and a chicken," he said to himself.
(I'm too lazy to write the part where he goes and gets the stuff and puts it away at home :p)
"Hey dad, I finished all of my chores for today!" Noah says stepping out of the kitchen and into the living room.
"That's good, Noah. You can go ahead and play with your friends, now, if you'd like," his father says.
"Yay! Thanks dad!" he says, waving and running back out the door. Soon, he gets to the river, where he sees his friends. "Hey guys, what do you wanna do today?"
"We should go check out the spooky crying well!" Simon, one of Noah's friends, says.
"No thanks, I want to be able to sleep tonight." Anna, Noah's other friend, complains.
"C'mon, it's going to be fine!"
"No, you idiot. There were cries coming from the well!"
"It's just an old tale that comes with every strange village in a forest."
"Really? Would you like to be part of those mysterious cries?"
The two kept arguing back and forth, until Noah finally cut in, saying "Seriously, you two, I think you can handle yourselves to not argue over something as simple as a well." They both look at Noah and mutter half-hearted apologies. "Good. Now, we can check out the well, but we'll leave as soon as something start going wrong, okay?" Both of them grumpily nod and Noah looks satisfied with himself. "Okay, guys, let's go!"
The group starts walking through the village, towards the well. Gentle clicks come from their shoes as they step on the stone pathway. After just a few more minutes of walking, they reach the well.
"Oh, look. Walk to the mysterious well and all of a sudden the animals stop chattering. That's not a bad sign at all," Anna says, sarcastic and slightly annoyed. Simon ignores her obvious hints that she believes the well is dangerous, and notices a thin layer of mist around it.
"Guys, look at the mist," Simon says. The other two notice the spooky, purplish mist trailing from the inside of the well. "So cool, right!" Noah gives a little shrug, unsure whether to think the fog cool or ominous. Anna disapprovingly scowls at Simon's statement. Noah walks closer to the well and runs his hand over the vines growing on it. The vines squirm from his touch and he pulls his hand away, wary of the well and it's cohabitants.
"Yeah, pretty sure we don't want to be here any longer," Anna says. She looks at the forest, and a sense of unease and dread comes to her. She feels the gazes of many, none of which were animal, yet not quite human. "Can we go now? I feel like some kind of... things watching us."
"C'mon, Anna, I'm sure it's just your nerves!" Simon says, with a slightly teasing tone. Anna shoots him an angry glare.
"Uh, actually, I agree with her," Noah says. He peers down the well, noticing that the water is black and murky, not just from lack of light.
"You two are just scaredy cats!" Simon mocks the two. Then, he looks up at the sky, realizing he and Anna would be late if they didn't leave. "C'mon Anna, it's getting late, we need to go," Simon says, grabbing Anna's arm and dragging her.
"Alright, bye Noah!" She says, waving as she's dragged away. Noah continues looking down into the well, oddly fascinated with the creepy feel. The darkening sky only adds to this. He tries leaning in to get a better look, and loses his balance. He desperately grabs at the well's edge, but it's covered in a thin layer of wet moss. His hands slip right off, and he falls into the inky water.
(1st person)
I start to flail my arms in panic, feeling the water envelop me like a heavy blanket. All that happens is I sink lower and lower. I begin worrying that I won't reach air it time, but just as I think I'll drown, I don't feel the same slow falling feeling. I realize I'm not in the water anymore, and thud onto solid ground. It hurts, but not enough to distract me from my situation. Where am I? It's so dark. The only light comes from small, white, glowing fishes in a stream of water. This whole place has an ominous feeling of impending doom. Faint whispers come from the walls. I try to ignore them, and start following the stream of fish.
Water drips from the ceiling, adding to the gently moving stream and whispers. I enjoy horror stories, but it's a lot less enjoyable when you're the victim. I continue walking until I notice that the dripping has stopped. I'm probably not under a source of water anymore. I hope this tunnel leads under the village, so someone can hear me, but it's unlikely. I'm too far from the surface to hear anything from it. No animal chatters, no footsteps. There's not even any tree roots. All the walking I've done leaves me tired, and I trip on my own feet. I hit the ground with a thud, and I feel fatigued as I try to sit up. I should've eaten, or at least drank, before going to my friends. I assumed we'd just hang out at one of their houses and eat there. I crawl towards the tunnel's wall and lean against it. I'm too tired to pay attention to what the whispers are saying, but they're louder now. The fish seem to glow brighter, hazy light surrounding them. I want to get up, keep walking, but I can't even lift my arms anymore. Eventually, I give in to sleep, imagining that the fishes are nightlights, and the whispers a soothing lullaby.
I awaken to a cold feeling on my ankle. Something is wrapped around it. Wait. My senses are still cloudy, but there's definitely something on my ankle. It's dragging me towards the stream. There's a large gathering of fish, and the whispering is so loud, I can barely hear the sound of my heart pounding. The whispers of tortured souls, calling for me to join them. I try keeping to the ground, but I'm dragged closer to the stream. My sock gets soaked in the cold water, and I thrash, absolutely DISGUSTED by the wet sock. I succeed in getting away, but the thing still had my sock and shoe. Good riddance, you can keep my soggy sock of sadness. I run away as fast as I can, ignoring the desperate whispers and the rocks poking my foot. My barefoot catches onto a rock, cutting it. I start slowing down, wincing in pain. Dirt and small bits of rock lodge into it. I don't want it to get infected, so I use the stream to clean the cut, even though every part of me says not to. As soon as I see all the muck come out, I get up, proceeding at a slower, more careful pace. I see a dim light from another source. Perhaps I'm finally near an exit. I hear the whispers again, now in the form of loud cries. The cries of the lost. Of those who couldn't get out. Shadowy hands leak through cracks in the wall, grabbing for a way out, but only getting air. I panic and start sprinting near the stream, occasionally ducking from the hands and jumping over rocks. The light grows brighter and I close my eyes.
It's completely quiet. No eerie whispers, no running water. Here I am. Back at the well. I stand for a few moments, in shock. Slowly, the forest comes back to life. Birds chirp as they wake from slumber, singing happily at the rising sun. Leaves rustle, animals prowling within. And the well? It looks completely normal. Perhaps a little overgrown with vines. I peer in again, and water sloshes. No strange fog, no inky water, no ominous feeling of impending doom. Just a normal well. As if it wasn't the places that had claimed the lives of many, leaving their spirits to roam in eternal unrest. Trying to phase through the roof of the tunnel, screaming for help. Yet it only comes out as whispers to all above it.