Into The Swallowing Thicket

Out of the eerie silence, there was a scream. The kind of scream that sends shivers down your bones and haunts your dreams.

"Hello?----is that you, Cassandra?"

The flashlight falls out of Polly's hand and ceases to work. Thick clouds of fog began surrounding her as she stood there in utter grief with her head down, sobbing all by herself, surrounded by darkness.

All that could be heard were the echoes of the piercing silence. Even the light of hope seemed to have vanished on that dark and hazy night.

She took a step back into the past, the past where everything was so seemingly normal when in reality she was slowly drowning in these nightmares. These nightmares started to look so real that she got lost in them forever with what looked like no possible chance of escape...

Eight years ago

In the middle of a quiet, endless evergreen forest stood a large, ordinary-looking mansion. The tall trees surrounded it from all sides, and apart from the sound of birds and the wind through the leaves, it was a very silent place.

Inside that big house lived a young girl named Polly Wilson. She was known to be a brave and curious girl. Polly lived with her father, Steve Wilson, a kind and strong man who loved her deeply. They didn't have a mother in their home, but even so, they didn't often feel lonely. Friends, relatives and neighbors came to visit them once or twice a week, bringing laughter and company.

But sometimes, on quiet nights when no visitors came, Polly did feel alone. In those moments, she would go to her favorite place in the whole house-the attic.

The attic was a cozy space at the top of the mansion. It had a slanted roof and a big glass window above that let her look up at the sky. Polly loved lying there on a soft old blanket, staring up at the stars. The night sky always made her feel calm and peaceful. It reminded her that even if she couldn't see her mother, maybe she was still out there somewhere, watching over her.

Polly often imagined what life would be like if her mother were still alive. She dreamed of having someone to brush her hair, give her warm hugs, and call her "my little girl" in a soft, loving voice. These dreams made her smile, but they also made her eyes fill with tears.

Her father, Steve, always seemed to notice when Polly was feeling sad. Even when he was carrying his own sadness inside, he never let it stop him from comforting her. He would gently pick her up in his strong arms and hold her tight, making her feel safe.

One special evening, while they were in the attic together, Steve pointed at the brightest star in the sky. "That one," he said softly, "is your mom. She was the most beautiful and hardworking person I've ever known. So, god needed her to help take care of the skies, she's working hard that's why she shines so brightly."

He took a deep breath and added, "You're never alone, Polly. Your mom is always looking after you from up there and showering her blessings."

Since that night, Polly made it a habit to look at that star every evening. It became her way of feeling close to her mother. Whenever she felt lost or wished for a mom, she'd look up and remember what her father said. It gave her strength and comfort.

But peaceful times didn't always last.

One day, the quiet of the house was broken by an unexpected visit. Polly's uncle, Andrew, and his son David showed up at the door. They visited often since they lived nearby, but Polly was never too happy to see them.

Andrew was loud and full of himself. Polly was never quite fond of her uncle as she found him quite egotistical, understandably so as for Andrew could never stop bragging about his riches and all the places in this world he has been to in his lifetime and when you think he's finally done with his shenanigans, he repeats the whole story right from the start.

What made things worse was that whenever Andrew came, he and David would usually stay for a night or two. The peaceful house would suddenly feel crowded and noisy.

Despite everything, the Wilsons were humble and warm hosts. They always welcomed Uncle Andrew and David with cheerful smiles, even if their visits were more tiring than relaxing. Every time, they patiently waited as Andrew made his usual grand, overly dramatic entrance-like he was stepping onto a red carpet-and sat through his endless stories, even when they weren't the most pleasant to hear.

But Polly, being the cheerful, happy-go-lucky girl that she was, found a bright side to these visits. She enjoyed spending time with David. Since she had no siblings of her own, she appreciated the company-and it didn't hurt that David had a great sense of humor. It was fair to say he could make her laugh like no one else. Their personalities just clicked from the moment they met.

Over time, their friendship became one of the best parts of these visits. They had even formed a little tradition-each visit ended with a playful pillow fight before they finally collapsed into sleep, exhausted and giggling. For Polly, it was a fun break from her usual routine. She and her father usually ended their days early, going to bed quietly and calmly. But with David around, the nights felt alive and full of laughter.

However, no matter how lively the day had been, there was always one rule in the Wilson household-a rule that had never been broken.

No one was allowed to leave the house at night.

It was a rule so firm and so serious that Polly remembered it clearly from their very first visit. Her father had pulled Andrew and David aside and said in a low, firm voice-so unlike his usual gentle tone-

"Do not leave the house at night. This is the one rule you must follow as our guests."

That memory stuck with Polly, not just because of what was said, but how it was said. Steve rarely ever raised his voice or spoke so sharply. It had surprised her-and apparently, it had surprised Andrew too, because he had never once questioned the rule after that. At least, until now.

Polly snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Andrew's voice break the soft chatter at the dinner table.

"So, what do you say, Steve?" Andrew asked casually, though something about his tone felt off.

Polly blinked, her stomach twisting slightly. Dinner had seemed like a regular one-until this moment. They had been talking, laughing, even sharing stories about the first time Andrew and David visited... and then suddenly, out of nowhere, Andrew brought up the rule.

"I thought I made it clear when I first welcomed you into our household that this topic shouldn't be questioned," Steve replied, his voice cold and flat.

Polly stiffened in her seat. Her father never spoke like that-not unless something was truly serious. It was rare for him to let go of his calm, polite way of speaking, even with guests. That shift in his voice made Polly's heart beat faster. Something was off. Very off.

She turned to look at David. He was already looking at her with a steady, serious expression. Polly gave him a pleading look, silently asking him to stop his father before things got worse.

"Father," David began gently, "maybe we should-"

"What do you say, Steve?" Andrew interrupted, grinning slightly as if he found the whole thing amusing. "Surely this rule doesn't really have anything to-"

But this time, Andrew was the one interrupted.

"Fine," Steve said suddenly. "Let's go outside then."

His voice was still emotionless, still calm-but it sent a chill down Polly's spine.

She sat frozen, her fork halfway to her mouth. The air in the room felt heavy, like something unseen was pressing down on her chest. The tension was so thick she could almost taste it. Something was terribly wrong. Her instincts were screaming at her.

It felt like she was tied up and forced to watch a fire slowly burning its way toward a ticking bomb.

And she couldn't do a single thing to stop it.

"Hey! Stop overthinking it." Polly felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down. Your father's a responsible man-he wouldn't agree unless he had a reason."

Andrew suddenly jumped up from his seat, grabbed Steve by the arm, and began dragging him toward the hallway. "Come on, let's grab some warmer clothes!"

David watched them go, then shrugged and walked toward the kitchen. "Guess we're on our own now," he said with a playful grin as he began rummaging through the cabinets.

"Fancy some hot chocolate, Pol?"

Polly couldn't help but grin at the nickname. Her father used to call her that when she was little. The first time David visited, he'd overheard it and never let her live it down-claiming "Pol" sounded more like "Paul." Apparently, he had a distant relative who owned a zoo, and his favorite animal there was, of all things, a monkey named Paul. Since then, teasing her about it had become part of their banter.

"Here you go! One warm mug of hot chocolate," said David, handing her the cup filled with the comforting, rich drink.

Polly held it close to her face, breathing in the chocolatey steam. But instead of sipping it right away, she drifted off into thought-deep, uneasy thoughts. Her mind was tangled in worry about the night ahead. She didn't like the idea of her father breaking his own rule, the one rule he had always taken so seriously.

A sudden voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Oh-ho! Young man, you've done well! Made hot chocolate, I see!" Andrew's booming voice filled the kitchen as he entered with Steve beside him. Both men were now dressed warmly, ready to step into the winter night.

Steve gave David a gentle pat on the head, and Andrew poured mugs for himself and his brother.

"Alright, you two. Stay inside," Steve said, his voice firm but calm. "Do not come out unless we call for you."

"Noted," David said with a wink, raising his mug. "We'll be safe. Don't worry, Uncle."

Polly's pov

The rest of the night felt like a blur.

Dad and Uncle Andrew had left through the front door, with Dad repeating his instructions for us to stay inside. He looked deeply disturbed, like something was clawing at his mind. Uncle just laughed it off, telling him to loosen up a bit. I told them both to stay safe.

Then the door shut.

David flashed me a mischievous grin and immediately bolted. I chased after him, his teasing echoing down the hallway-"You're so slow, Pol!" It stung a little, honestly. But I caught him. Grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt with both hands and held on for dear life while he squirmed and laughed. I finally let go, and we collapsed onto the floor, panting like we'd just run a marathon. Laughter took over. Real, belly-aching laughter.

For a while, I forgot to be scared.

For the next three hours, we caused chaos-in the best way. We raced through rooms, slid down banisters, sneaked chocolate into my bedroom. We built pillow forts, watched horror movies with a blanket thrown over our heads to block out the light. We screamed at every jump scare and burst out laughing afterward, pointing at each other's terrified faces. We were just kids, having fun.

But all good things have to end.

We were mid-pillow fight, lobbing stuffed animals at each other, when we heard it-thunder. A sharp crack that shook the window panes. Then came the lightning, blinding and violent. It felt like the house was smack in the middle of a warzone.

That was the turning point.

The lights began to flicker.

The television glitched out.

Then everything went dark.

We heard glass cracking somewhere inside the house.

We froze. Then we started to cry.

Terrified, we ran. Bolted toward the front entrance.

Ran as fast as our small feet would take us.

We threw open the door-

No one was there.

Not Dad. Not Uncle. No footprints. No signs. Nothing.

A thought shot through me like lightning-

Something's wrong.

Really, truly wrong.

I started hyperventilating. My vision blurred.

And then-

Black.

I don't know what happened after that.

Neither does David.

They were never found.

To this day, no one knows what happened that night.

David and I changed.

Something inside us just... broke.

We were forced to grow up too quickly.

We tried to forget.

But we couldn't.

We were scared.

What's worse-our memories?

They don't even match.

His version of that night is different from mine.

Time warped everything. Our minds played tricks.

It's like the house... bent reality.

Eventually, we stopped talking about it.

He still has questions.

I wish he'd let them go.

But what I never expected-what I couldn't expect-

Was that everything I thought was real...

Might have been a lie all along.