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Sarah, Terry, and Josh were drunk.
It was Sarah's birthday, you see. She invited her two best friends on a night of merriment through the woods. The glorious, silent, woods. Or so they thought. Ah, to be young and naive.
As the trio frolicked through the forest they started to hear voices. They never heard voices in the forest. Judging by the light of the moon they have never been this far out of their village. They started to panic.
"My Ma said never to cross the forest barrier." Josh, the eldest, and most cowardly of the three, suggested a swift retreat.
"I'm scared of bandits personally. We have a lot of drink left." Terry, the most level-headed of the three, shrugged his shoulders.
"I say we sneak up on them!" Sarah, the decision-maker and risk-taker, grinned like an evil witch. "There are no bandits this close to the village, Terry. And there's nothing on the other side of the forest wall, Josh. Let's just see who's up to mischief. And if it's someone we know, we spook them!"
The boys were too intoxicated to argue, and also Sarah's logic made sense. Theirs was a quiet village, isolated from most of the world. The large thick forest separating them was their main secretive exploit. And only locals could manage their way through the dense forest underbrush. So it made sense that locals would be on the other side.
As they approached the voices started to get louder. That is until the trio reached a grass wall at which point the voices became uncharacteristically muffled. The youngsters attributed this to their alcohol intake. But what if I told you, the only reason they were hearing said voices was because of their alcohol.
At Sarah's command, the boys burst through the grass wall, their bags held menacingly above their heads. Sarah jumped over holding the final bag to see - nothing, or rather, no one. For there was something there.
A huge bowl-like stone structure was surrounded by a small stone wall. The circular design was something none of the intoxicated three had ever seen. But where were the people?
"There's nobody here," Josh said, relieved.
Sarah put down their painting supplies and sat on the circular wall. "We all heard the voices though, right?"
Terry sat down beside her. "Maybe this meed is just too good. Uncle Rickard did warn us."
"This is a beautiful place," Josh said. "I doubt anyone has been here in centuries."
They sat there, astounded and calm in the stone encircling. Their minds were unable to hear the constant whispering around them. The treacherous, awful whispering.
"Hey!" Sarah blurted. "I have a great idea! I know we planned on painting the forest. But why don't we paint this place instead? I'm sure we can make it look even more awesome!"
The others like that notion, but first - drink! The whispering became curious then. These three weren't bad souls, just misguided. They appreciated the sanctuary they found more than anyone before. That was something to be commended.
After even more drink was consumed, the three started to draw over the carvings in the stone. This made the whispers furious - defilement, disorder! How dare these young mortals abuse their corporal form like so? But as the trio kept drawing the whispering became more curious than confrontational.
The air became thick though the three did not notice. As they painted they laughed and drank. So much so that Josh became anxious about getting back. So much so that they left their bags in the middle of the incircling as they left. Wobbling over roots and rocks inside the forest. It would be slow going, but going it would.
The whispers... stopped. Were they appeased? Were they... happy? Why were the children not swallowed whole? To this day, dear reader, I am unsure as to why exactly the mortals lived that day. Not only did they desecrate sacred ground, but they also left a mess behind!
Sometimes, a good heart can overcome even the darkest whispers. Or so I believe naively. Why else would Sarah, Terry, and Josh prosper til today? Some say their lives were blessed by unknown whispers, and those people will never know how right they might be.
FOr those that are creative, are those that are eternal.
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The prompt image:
Obligatory shout-out to the 🍕PIZZA🍕 gang, 🤙 gang. 🤙
So this started off as another horror story. But then I realized that most of my pic1000 stories are horror stories. 😅 So I felt like a happy ending was in order. Not sure how much sense this all made in reference to the prompt, but I hope it made some. Thanks for reading!
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Cover image source.
Stay safe and have an amazing rest of your week! 🙌
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