The village of San Juan de las Sombras had a peculiarity that made it famous, or perhaps infamous, in the region: every night, when the clock struck midnight, the echo of heart-wrenching screams resonated through the valley. No one knew where they came from, but it was said to be the laments of those who had disappeared in the nearby forest, a place that people avoided approaching after sunset.
María and her younger brother, Andrés, had grown up hearing stories about those echoes. Their parents always warned them to stay away from the forest, but curiosity and the need to prove they were not scared children led them to venture into the thicket one autumn afternoon. The atmosphere was dense, and the shadows loomed over them as if the forest itself were watching them.
As they ventured deeper into the woods, the daylight faded, giving way to a gray and oppressive twilight. The leaves crunched under their feet, and every sound seemed amplified in the growing silence. María, who had always been the bravest, tried to maintain her composure, but she felt a knot in her stomach that she could not ignore.
They decided to stop near an old fallen tree to rest. Just as they sat down, a chill ran down Andrés’s spine. “Did you hear that?” he asked, his eyes staring blankly with fear. María frowned, but before she could respond, a heart-wrenching scream pierced the air, echoing through the trees as if the forest itself were screaming. It was a sound that sent chills down their spines and froze their blood.
Both stood frozen, breathless. María tried to calm her brother, reminding him that they were just legends, but the anxiety in her voice betrayed her own disbelief. The echoes intensified, as if the tormented souls of the forest were calling to them, their voices united in a heart-wrenching lament that seemed to draw closer and closer.
“We need to go,” María said, but when they tried to get up, the ground began to tremble, and the shadows stirred around them. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness: a disheveled man with empty eyes and a disturbing smile. “You shouldn’t be here,” he warned, his voice a barely audible whisper, and his presence seemed to absorb the light.
María and Andrés took a step back, but the man blocked their way. “You are trapped in their game,” he said, as an echo of laughter resonated around them. Desperation took hold of them, and they began to run, but every turn in the forest seemed to lead them back to the same place. The laughter turned into screams, each one more terrifying than the last.
Suddenly, Andrés vanished in a flash of light. María screamed his name, but her voice was lost among the echoes of the laments. She ran aimlessly, her footsteps echoing on the ground, as her brother’s scream faded, drowning in the darkness. The shadows closed in around her, and the laughter transformed into a chorus of familiar voices: friends, family, all those she had lost over the years.
In an unexpected twist, she found herself in front of a broken mirror that reflected not only her image but fragments of her life, moments of joy and sadness, and for an instant, she understood. The echo of the screams was not just a warning, but a reminder that those who had disappeared had not left; they were trapped in an endless cycle of suffering.
Desperate, María made a decision. She closed her eyes and screamed, a cry that combined all her fears and hopes. In an instant, the forest filled with silence. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself alone; the figure of the man had vanished, and the forest had regained its calm, but the echo of the screams had changed. Now it resonated in her mind, reminding her that the true horror was not the darkness of the forest, but the loneliness that could live within oneself.