Assigned to a routine patrol, two young soldiers venture towards the Silent Copse, unprepared for the incredible horror short tale awaiting them. The woods have fallen unnaturally quiet, choked by a strange, parasitic growth. This narrative tracks their descent into a nightmare, a fast-paced struggle against a creeping corruption that warps life and whispers madness. Brace yourself for an intense confrontation with grotesque horrors.
Chapter 1: The Briefing
Liam stood at attention. His gaze fixed forward. The briefing room felt cold. Commander Valerius stared at the map on the table. His face was grim. Faelan stood beside Liam, still as stone, his usual calm presence.
“Another patrol missing,” Valerius said. His voice was clipped. Low. He tapped the map. A patch of woods marked ‘Silent Copse’. “That makes three.”
Liam’s jaw tightened. Faelan’s eyes narrowed slightly. Three patrols vanishing without a trace was not routine.
“The Copse has always been… quiet,” Valerius continued. “Loggers avoid it. Locals tell stories.” He waved a dismissive hand. “But this silence is different. No birds. No animals. Nothing reported for weeks.”
He looked up. Met Liam’s eyes, then Faelan’s. “Your orders are simple. Scout the perimeter. Determine the situation. Report back. Do not enter the Copse proper unless absolutely necessary. Avoid direct engagement.”
Liam nodded. “Understood, Commander.” His hand rested on the sonic projector strapped to his forearm. A device capable of emitting focused sound waves. His specialty.
Faelan gave a slight bow of his head. His focus was internal. Readying the mental discipline needed to project shields of pure force. His defense.
“This isn’t a standard reconnaissance,” Valerius added. A warning in his tone. “Something is wrong there. Trust your senses. Trust your training.” He looked pointedly at Faelan. “Your barriers may be needed.”
“We’re prepared,” Faelan replied softly.
They were dismissed. Walked through the stone corridors of the fortress city, Aethelburg. The sounds of guards, merchants, life echoed around them. Normal sounds. Sounds absent from the Silent Copse.
They gathered their gear. Standard patrol kit. Rations. Water. Medical supplies. Liam checked the charge on his projector. Polished the amplifying crystal. Faelan secured extra focus gems to his belt. Small, clear stones that helped channel his barrier energy.
At the city’s edge, the massive gates opened. They stepped out. The path led into the sprawling forests that bordered the blighted lands further north. Lands Aethelburg stood guard against.
The sun felt warm. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves. It seemed peaceful. Liam tried to shake off the sense of foreboding. It was just a scouting mission. Find out what happened. Report back.
But Valerius’s grim face lingered in his mind. Something is wrong there. His own senses felt on edge. Alert. Waiting for the silence.
Chapter 2: The Quiet Edge
They walked for hours. The forest path dwindled. Trees grew denser. Darker. The sounds of normal woodland faded behind them. Replaced by a growing quiet.
First the birdsong stopped. Then the chatter of squirrels. Even the buzzing of insects seemed muted. Falling away layer by layer. Until only the sound of their own footsteps on the damp earth remained.
“We’re getting close,” Faelan murmured. His voice unnaturally loud in the stillness. He scanned the trees. His hand hovering near his focus gems.
Liam nodded. He could feel it too. A pressure in the air. A heavy silence that felt watchful. He unstrapped the safety on his sonic projector.
Ahead, the trees thinned slightly. Revealing the edge of the Silent Copse.
It wasn’t just quiet. It was wrong. Thick, rubbery vines covered everything. A sickly, pale green. They pulsed with a slow, faint rhythm. Like a diseased heart. The vines choked trees. Covered the ground in a spongy carpet. Climbed over rocks.
The air smelled sweet. Cloyingly sweet. Like overripe fruit left to rot in the damp.
Liam felt a wave of nausea. Faelan made a small noise of disgust.
They stopped at the edge. Hidden behind a large, healthy oak – one of the last vestiges of normal forest. They observed.
No movement. No sign of the missing patrols. Just the endless, silent sprawl of pulsating green. The light here seemed dimmer. Filtered through the thick canopy and the strange growth.
“This vegetation…” Faelan whispered. “It’s parasitic. Aggressive.”
Liam focused his hearing. Amplified by his training. He listened past the oppressive silence. Heard only the faint, wet pulsing of the vines. And something else. A faint clicking. Rhythmic. Distant.
“There’s something in there,” Liam said. “Moving.”
Faelan looked at him. Questioning.
“We have to look closer,” Liam stated. He hated the idea. Every instinct screamed danger. But orders were orders. And three patrols were missing. “Perimeter check. Just the edge.”
They moved cautiously. Stepping onto the spongy, vine-covered ground. Their boots sank slightly. Making soft, squelching sounds. They kept low. Moving from tree trunk to grotesque tree trunk. Deeper into the unnatural twilight of the Copse.
The clicking sound grew slightly louder. Closer.
Liam peered around a thick, vine-strangled trunk. Saw a small clearing ahead. Something lay on the ground. Dark shapes.
His blood ran cold. Equipment. Scattered. Torn leather. A broken sword hilt. Remnants of the last patrol.
No bodies.
Chapter 3: Grotesque Discoveries
They approached the clearing slowly. Weapons ready. The scattered gear confirmed their fears. A fight happened here. A desperate one.
Liam knelt. Examined a torn piece of Aethelburg uniform. Stained dark. And smeared with sticky green ooze. The same substance that seemed to weep from the pulsating vines.
Faelan picked up a dented helmet. Ran a gloved finger along a deep scratch. “Something strong did this.”
Suddenly, a shriek from above. High-pitched. Warped.
A bird plummeted from the canopy. Too fast. Wrong. Patches of its feathers were missing. Replaced by small, budding green nodules. Its eyes glowed with a faint, sick light.
It dove straight at Faelan. Beak open in a silent scream.
“Look out!” Liam shouted. He raised his projector. Unleashed a tight beam of focused sound. Not destructive. Disruptive.
VMMMM!
The bird convulsed mid-air. Tumbled to the ground. Twitched once. Lay still. Green slime leaked from its beak.
Faelan stared at the dead creature. Horror dawning on his face. “It’s infected.”
The clicking sound returned. Louder now. From the edge of the clearing.
A figure stepped out from behind a curtain of vines. Humanoid. Dressed in the tattered remains of logger’s clothes. Its movements were jerky. Uncoordinated. Head lolling.
Vines grew from its body. Wrapped around limbs. Dug into flesh. Pulsating in rhythm with the larger growth around them. Its face was shadowed. Mouth open. The source of the rhythmic clicking.
It shambled towards them. Slowly at first. Unaware. Or uncaring.
“Sweet mercy,” Liam breathed.
“We need to go,” Faelan urged. Pulling back. “Report this monstrosity.”
Liam agreed. Backing away slowly. But the creature’s head snapped up. Fixed on them. The clicking stopped. Replaced by a low, wet hiss.
It started moving faster. Jerky steps turning into a stumbling run. Arms outstretched.
More movement. From the sides. Another figure emerged. Crawling on all fours. Body twisted at unnatural angles. Covered almost entirely in the pulsating green. It dragged itself forward. Leaving a slimy trail.
The hissing intensified. Echoing. Coming from multiple directions.
They were targets.
Chapter 4: Corrupted Energies
“Faelan, shield!” Liam yelled. He fired his projector again. A wider sonic burst this time. WHOOM!
The blast hit the shambling figure. Sent it staggering back. It didn’t fall. Just shook its head. The vines on its body pulsed faster. Seemed to absorb the sonic energy.
The crawling figure hissed. Scrabbling forward faster. Unaffected by the sound wave.
Faelan thrust his hands out. Palms forward. “Force Wall!”
A shimmering plane of energy appeared between them and the creatures. Transparent. Vibrating slightly. The shambler slammed into it. The crawler clawed at its base.
The barrier held. For a second.
Then, thin green tendrils snaked out from the corrupted figures. Touched the force wall. Instead of being repelled, the vines started growing onto the barrier. Spreading across the shimmering surface like mold. Darkening it. Dulling its energy.
“It’s… feeding on the barrier,” Faelan gasped. Straining. Pouring more energy into the shield. The focus gems on his belt glowed brighter. Then flickered.
The barrier cracked. Spiderweb lines spreading from where the vines touched.
“Fall back!” Liam shouted. Pulling Faelan away as the shield shattered inwards. Shards of force dissipated like smoke.
They turned. Ran deeper into the Copse. The only way left open. Vines seemed to reach for them from the trees. The ground tried to suck at their boots.
The hissing figures pursued. Relentless.
A thick vine whipped out from overhead. Fast as a snake. Wrapped around Liam’s leg. Pulled him off his feet. He hit the spongy ground hard.
Pain flared. Thorns bit deep. He felt a cold draining sensation. His energy. His warmth. Being siphoned away by the pulsating vine.
“Liam!” Faelan spun. Raised his hands. Then hesitated. Afraid his power would only feed the vine more.
Liam gritted his teeth against the draining cold. Twisted his body. Activated his projector at close range. A high-frequency vibration aimed directly at the vine around his leg.
ZZZZZZT!
The vine smoked. Shriveled. Released its grip. Green ooze splattered. Sizzled on the ground.
He scrambled up. Leg aching. Numb. “Move!”
They plunged onwards. The sounds of pursuit fell back slightly. But the oppressive atmosphere thickened. The sweet, rotten smell intensified. The air itself felt heavy. Watching.
They needed shelter. A place to think. To hide.
Chapter 5: Whispers from the Green
They found a dilapidated shack. Half-crushed by a fallen, vine-covered tree. Looked like an old trapper’s cabin. The door hung open. Darkness inside.
Better than being exposed. They slipped inside. Barricaded the door weakly with a rotting table.
The interior was damp. Dark. Thick with dust and the smell of decay. Vines crept through cracks in the walls. Pulsating faintly.
Silence returned. But it was different now. Charged. Listening.
Then, the whispers started. Soft. Insidious. Seeming to come from the walls. From the air. From inside their own heads.
So tired… Rest now… Join the green…
Liam pressed his hands to his temples. The words slid into his thoughts like oil. Promising peace. Release from fear.
Faelan stumbled back against a wall. Eyes wide. “What is that?”
“Mind tricks,” Liam grunted. But he knew it was more. The blight wasn’t just consuming flesh. It was consuming thoughts. Wills. “Focus. Block it out.”
He tried to concentrate. Pushed back against the seductive whispers. Faelan closed his eyes. Visibly struggling.
They needed to move. Get out. But where?
Liam scanned the dim interior. His eyes adjusted. He saw shapes. Cocoons. Hanging from the low ceiling beams. Wrapped in thick, pulsing vines. Human-sized.
His breath caught. He approached one cautiously. Faelan opened his eyes. Saw where Liam was looking. Froze.
Let go… Become one… Feel the connection… The whispers grew stronger near the cocoons.
Liam used the barrel of his projector. Pushed aside some vines on the nearest cocoon. Revealed a face beneath. Pale. Waxy. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly open. A missing logger? A soldier? Preserved. Absorbed.
Liam felt sick. Stepped back.
A sudden tearing sound. From the cocoon he’d touched.
The eyes inside snapped open. Glowing with the same sickly green light. The mouth stretched impossibly wide. Emitting a piercing, mind-shattering shriek.
The whispers vanished. Replaced by the overwhelming shriek. It vibrated in their bones. Their skulls.
The cocoon tore open violently. The figure inside unfolded. Long, spindly limbs. Covered in slime and new vine growth. Not human. Not anymore. It screeched again. Scrambled towards them. Unbelievably fast.
Chapter 6: The Pulsing Heart
“Get out!” Liam yelled. He aimed his projector. Fired a concussive blast of sound. BOOM!
The creature recoiled. Slammed back against the wall. Shrieking in fury. But already trying to rise again. More cocoons were twitching. Tearing.
Faelan reacted instantly. Focused his will. A telekinetic shove blasted the weak wooden back wall of the shack outwards. Splintered wood flew. Creating an escape route.
“Go!” Faelan pushed Liam towards the opening.
Liam scrambled through. Landed on the damp ground outside. Faelan was right behind him.
They were in a small, overgrown yard behind the shack. The shrieking from inside was horrifying. Sounds of more creatures emerging.
They ran. Away from the shack. Deeper still. Following a narrow game trail nearly swallowed by vines.
The shrieking faded. Replaced by a low, rhythmic pulsing. Felt more than heard. In the ground. In the air. In their chests. Growing stronger ahead.
The trail opened into a larger clearing. Dominated by a colossal, ancient tree. Its bark was blackened. Diseased. Limbs twisted like tormented claws. And it was utterly infested with the pulsating green vines. They writhed over its surface. Converging at the base into a thick, knot of pulsing, glowing vegetation. The source. The heart of the blight.
Dozens of figures stood motionless in the clearing. Facing the tree. Bathed in its hideous green glow. Former loggers. Soldiers. Animals twisted into vaguely humanoid shapes. All covered in vines. Eyes glowing vacant green. Clicking softly.
The pulsing emanated from the knot at the tree’s base. The Root Heart. It beat like a drum of corruption.
Liam and Faelan froze at the edge of the clearing. Hidden. Watching in horror.
“The source,” Liam whispered. Voice tight with dread.
“There’s too many,” Faelan breathed. Shaking his head slowly. “Valerius needs to know. We have to get back.”
But as he spoke, the pulsing from the Root Heart quickened. The green light flared brighter. The figures around the tree stirred. Their heads began to turn. Snapping towards the edge of the clearing. Towards the intruders.
Green eyes fixed on them. The clicking grew louder. More aggressive.
One figure, barely recognizable as human, raised a vine-wrapped arm. Pointed directly at them.
They were exposed. Seen. Trapped.
Chapter 7: Sound and Fury
No escape route. The corrupted horde turned. Began shuffling towards them. A wave of clicking, hissing bodies. The whispers returned. A chorus of madness from dozens of throats. Join… Give… Become…
“Liam!” Faelan’s voice was sharp with fear.
“Stand fast!” Liam commanded. Planting his feet. Raising his projector. Fear warred with determination. They wouldn’t be taken. Not like the others. “Disrupt them!”
He unleashed a wide cone of discordant sound. SCREEEEEE! A cacophony designed to overwhelm. To confuse.
The front ranks of the corrupted faltered. Clutched their heads. Hissed in agitation. Their advance slowed. Thrown into disarray.
“Now, Faelan! Push!”
Faelan focused. Eyes narrowed. He thrust his hands forward. Not a barrier. A wave of raw telekinetic force swept outwards. It picked up loose rocks. Rotten wood. Debris. Hurled it into the disorganized figures. Knocking them down. Impeding their progress. Creating a chaotic buffer zone.
It bought them precious seconds.
“The heart!” Liam yelled, pointing at the pulsing knot at the tree’s base. “We have to hit the source!”
It was insane. A direct assault. But it was their only chance.
They charged forward. Through the sonic chaos and flying debris. Past staggering, temporarily disabled figures. Some were already recovering. Vines repairing damage. Pulling them back up.
The pulsing from the Root Heart intensified as they approached. A wave of psychic pressure slammed into them. Nauseating. Trying to crush their minds. The whispers became a deafening roar in their thoughts. Intruders! Consume! Die!
Liam stumbled. Fought to stay conscious. Faelan grunted. A trickle of blood ran from his nose. But he kept moving.
They reached the base of the monstrous tree. The air crackled with corrupt energy. The knot of vines writhed like a nest of serpents. Lashing out with thorny tendrils.
Faelan threw up a desperate, shimmering shield. Tendrils slammed against it. Cracking it instantly. But it deflected the first blows. He yelled in pain as the feedback hit him. Staggered back against the tree trunk. Dazed.
“Faelan!” Liam screamed. Dodged a sweeping vine. Saw the core within the knot. Pulsing brighter. Faster. The epicenter.
He jammed his projector directly against the writhing mass. Overrode the safeties. Poured every ounce of power. Every bit of his focus. “Sonic Lance!”
VVVVVVVMMMMMMMM-CRACK!
An ultra-high frequency beam of focused sound pierced the knot. Aimed straight at the core.
A silent scream ripped through the clearing. Not sound. Pure mental agony. Liam felt his consciousness fray. His vision bleached white. Pain exploded behind his eyes.
The pulsing stopped. The green light died instantly. The vines went limp. Grey. Lifeless.
Across the clearing, the corrupted figures collapsed simultaneously. Crumpling into heaps of dust and dried husks. Like puppets with their strings cut.
Silence descended. Utter. Heavy. Final.
Liam fell to his knees. Projector falling from numb fingers. Head pounding. Blood streaming from his nose and ears. He tasted copper.
He looked up. The knot was still. Grey. Dead. His vibrating knife, dropped earlier, lay near it.
He crawled to Faelan. Shook him gently. Faelan groaned. Stirred. Alive.
“It’s… over?” Faelan mumbled. Eyes struggling to focus.
“Yeah,” Liam gasped. Coughing. “It’s over.”
But the air felt dead. The victory tasted like ash. The silence was worse than the whispers.
Chapter 8: Lingering Echoes
The trek back to Aethelburg was grueling. Liam’s leg was a mess of thorn tears and numbness. Faelan leaned on him, suffering from the psychic shockwave and physical blows. They moved through a dead forest under a sky that seemed too bright.
The Silent Copse was truly silent now. Grey vines crumbled at their touch. The sweet smell replaced by the dry scent of decay. They didn’t speak. The shared trauma was a heavy shroud.
Reaching the edge of the healthy forest felt like surfacing from a deep, dark ocean. The normal sounds of life were almost painful.
They collapsed, exhausted, just inside the line of healthy trees.
“Commander Valerius…” Faelan said later, his voice hoarse. “The report…”
Liam looked back at the grey wound of the Copse on the horizon. “He gets the truth,” Liam said softly. “Every last detail.”
Their return to Aethelburg caused a stir. Two soldiers, battered, bleeding, half-conscious, stumbling through the gates. Medics rushed them to the infirmary.
Commander Valerius arrived shortly after they were cleaned and bandaged. He stood between their beds, his face stern, waiting.
Liam reported. His voice monotone. Detailing the silence, the vines, the corrupted, the whispers, the shack, the Root Heart, the final desperate act. He left nothing out. Faelan added details where Liam’s memory faltered.
Valerius listened without interruption. His expression hardened as the tale unfolded. When they finished, he was quiet for a moment. Staring at the far wall.
“The Whispervine Blight,” he said eventually. His voice low. “An ancient corruption. We thought the barriers held it further north.” He clenched his fist. “It spreads.”
He looked at them then. Truly saw their condition. The haunted look in their eyes. “You exceeded orders. Faced down a horror many trained knights would flee from. You stopped a major outbreak.” His voice held grudging respect. “At significant cost.”
Liam touched the bandage on his forearm where the projector had overheated. He could still feel the phantom draining sensation from the vine. Hear the silent scream of the Root Heart.
“Is it… really gone?” Faelan asked. The question hanging heavy in the sterile room.
“The Copse infestation is neutralized, thanks to you,” Valerius confirmed. “Specialized units are already deploying to cleanse and contain the area based on your initial contact report and now this.” He paused. Met their gazes. “But this blight… it leaves scars. Not all are visible.”
Liam knew the Commander spoke the truth. He closed his eyes, but the image of the glowing green vines, the clicking figures, the seductive whispers, remained vivid. The Silent Copse was dead. But the horror lingered. An echo in the quiet places of his mind.
The patrol was over. The battle won. But the silence of the Whispervine echoed still.
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