The Forgotten Trails

It was another cold winter and this cold had a voice. It didn't howl nor shriek—it whispered. A thin, needling murmur that curled through the trees, slipping between branches, seeping into the folds of their coats. It was the kind of cold that didn't just bite at the skin. It seeped into the bones.

Nathan Pierce exhaled, watching his breath bloom and vanish in the air. The mountain loomed ahead, its peak swallowed in a thick, unmoving wall of gray. He and his friends had decided to spend the winter season together at the popular lodge perched atop the snow-covered mountain. The journey ahead loomed before them—a narrow, winding path disappearing into the dense woods. There was something about it that felt heavy, unsettling... familiar.

Nathan had been here before. But that was a memory he had no desire to revisit.

"The Forgotten Trail..." Riley muttered, hoisting her bag out of the trunk. "Kinda creepy, don't you think? Why call it that?"

Nathan didn't answer right away. He kept his gaze on the path, his jaw tightening.

Riley wasn't just another friend—she was a runaway. They'd met by chance at a club months ago, where Nathan, upon realizing she was underage, had dragged her out before she could get herself into trouble. He'd scolded her like an older brother, and in time, that's exactly what he became. She never said it outright to him, but he knew she was grateful.

Finally, he exhaled and smirked. "Probably for aesthetics. The creepier it sounds, the more people want to check it out. Reverse psychology."