Where the Forest Remembers Ch3

Aditi didn't stop running until her lungs burned.

She stumbled over an exposed root and crashed onto the damp forest floor. Her camera swung against her chest, the impact knocking the air out of her.

The footsteps stopped.

The silence that followed was somehow worse.

She lay there for a moment, staring up at the canopy. The leaves swayed gently, though she couldn't feel any wind.

It was as if the trees were breathing.

Watching.

When she finally pushed herself up, her hands were streaked with mud. She instinctively reached into her backpack for her water bottle.

It wasn't there.

She frowned.

"I'm sure I packed it..."

She unzipped every compartment.

Lenses.

A flashlight.

A notebook.

Energy bars.

No water.

For a split second, she couldn't remember whether she'd actually packed one that morning or only meant to.

The thought unsettled her more than it should have.

She was meticulous. She always carried water.

She pulled out her phone.

No Signal.

Battery: 63%.

At least that was something.

She opened her gallery, hoping to distract herself with the photographs she'd already taken and cloud transferred.

The first image was the forest gate.

The second...

She frowned.

She didn't remember taking it.

It was a close-up of an ancient tree trunk. Deep into its bark were carved dozens of names.

Some old.

Some fresh.

Some nearly swallowed by the growing wood.

She zoomed in.

Raghav.

Meera.

Kunal.

Nisha.

Hundreds of names.

She had no memory of standing before that tree.

No memory of pressing the shutter.

Yet there it was.

A perfect photograph.

Taken by someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

A cold knot formed in her stomach.

How many things had she already forgotten?

---

The light had begun to fade.

She needed shelter.

Returning to the watchtower felt like the worst possible decision.

But wandering aimlessly through the forest felt even worse.

She climbed the tower once more.

This time, she reached the top.

The platform overlooked an endless sea of green.

No roads.

No villages.

Just trees stretching to the horizon in every direction.

She raised her binoculars.

Still nothing.

Then...

Movement.

Far below.

Someone walking through the trees.

Relief flooded her.

"Hey!"

She waved frantically.

The figure stopped.

Slowly...

It looked up.

Too far away to make out a face.

She waved again.

The figure copied her.

Not a second later.

At the exact same moment.

A mirror.

Her smile faded.

The figure lowered its arm.

So did she.

Only...

She hadn't moved.

Her arm was still raised.

She looked at herself in confusion.

Then realized—

The figure had predicted her movement.

Before she made it.

Her raised arm suddenly felt unbearably heavy.

She lowered it.

The figure was already standing with its arm at its side.

Waiting.

As if it had known.

A cloud drifted across the sun.

For less than a heartbeat, the forest darkened.

When the light returned...

The figure was gone.

---

Night arrived without a sunset.

One moment the forest was dim.

The next, it was black.

Aditi locked herself inside the small observation room at the top of the tower.

The wooden door barely closed.

She wedged a broken chair beneath the handle.

Ridiculous.

But it made her feel safer.

She switched on her flashlight.

Its beam swept across peeling walls.

Old shelves.

A rusted lantern.

And dozens of tally marks scratched into the wood.

Groups of five.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Thousands of them.

Someone had counted the days.

Or...

The nights.

Near the window, another sentence had been carved into the wall.

Not neatly.

The letters looked as though they had been gouged with trembling hands.

IT DOESN'T TAKE YOUR LIFE.

Below it—

IT TAKES THE PERSON WHO LIVED IT.

Aditi stared at the words.

For reasons she couldn't explain, tears welled in her eyes.

The sentence felt familiar.

Like something she'd heard before.

But where?

She closed her eyes, trying to remember.

Nothing came.

Only a dull ache behind her temples.

---

Hours passed.

Or perhaps only minutes.

Time no longer made sense.

Then—

Tap.

A soft knock on the door.

Aditi held her breath.

Another tap.

Gentle.

Almost polite.

"Who's there?" she called.

No answer.

Just another knock.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Then...

A woman's voice.

Soft.

Warm.

Almost comforting.

"Aditi..."

It sounded like her mother.

Exactly like her mother.

The same calm voice that used to wake her for school.

"Aditi... open the door."

She froze.

Her mother was hundreds of kilometers away.

Another knock.

"My phone isn't working," the voice said. "Please... open the door."

Tears filled Aditi's eyes before she realized something was wrong.

She couldn't remember...

Her mother's face.

Every time she tried to picture her...

The image dissolved into darkness.

Panic surged through her.

"No..." she whispered.

"No, no, no..."

She dug through her phone, searching for family photographs.

There were hundreds.

But every face was blurred.

Not by the camera.

By her own mind.

She recognized no one.

Outside, the voice continued.

"Aditi..."

"I'm cold."

"Please."

"Don't leave me alone."

She pressed both hands over her ears.

The knocking stopped.

The forest became silent once more.

Then, from just outside the tiny window...

A shadow drifted across the glass.

Someone was standing on the narrow ledge outside the tower.