Night Pickers
A group of campers arrived at the remote site just before sunset. As they set up their tents, one of them noticed strange carvings on the trees—shallow, jagged lines that seemed to form words.
"Don't stay after dark, or you’ll be picked" one read"
They laughed it off, but as night fell, the forest grew unnaturally quiet. No crickets, no wind—just the faint sound of whispers. At first, they thought it was their imagination, but the whispers grew louder, closer, until they seemed to come from inside the tents.
By dawn, the campers were gone. The only trace left was a single tent, zipped shut from the inside, its walls covered in fresh carvings: "We tried to warn you."
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