The Forgotten Path

The village of Darkwood was a place where time stood still. Nestled deep within the forgotten mountains, it was untouched by modernity, a relic of centuries-old traditions. The villagers lived quiet lives, following the cycles of the seasons, but there was one unwritten rule: never stray from the Marked Path. For as long as anyone could remember, it had been said that those who left the path and wandered into the Veil Woods were never seen again.

Generations of villagers obeyed this rule without question, passing it down like a dark inheritance. Tales of the Vanished Ones—those who had dared to explore beyond the marked borders—were told around fires, whispered like warnings in the night. The stories were chilling, but no one truly believed them. Not in the way one believes a storm is coming, or that winter will bite with frost. The forest was just… off-limits.

Until one day, a visitor arrived in darkwood.

The Stranger

His name was Kartik, a researcher from the city. He arrived with a purpose—to document the folklore of forgotten villages, places like darkwood that clung to their old-world superstitions. The villagers were kind but wary, offering him a small, weathered house on the outskirts to stay in. They welcomed him, but always with the same warning: "Stay on the path. Never venture into the woods."

Kartik was fascinated. These warnings were common in many rural places he had visited. Folklore, he thought, existed to maintain social control. It was an effective way of keeping people from wandering into dangerous places, like forests where animals lurked or the terrain could be fatal.

But one evening, while sharing tea with Raghu, the village elder, Kartik pressed further, curious about the story behind the Marked Path.

"It is said," Raghu began, his voice low and raspy, "that the Veil Woods are not of this world. It is a place where the veil between the living and the dead grows thin. Once you cross into that place, it is not the forest that traps you, but something else—something ancient and unseen."

Kartik smirked, trying to mask his skepticism. “And what happens to those who stray from the path?”

“They vanish. Some say they are taken into the Shadow Realm, where the souls of the lost wander forever. Others… others say they are taken by Her.”

Kartik leaned forward, intrigued. “Her?”

Raghu’s eyes darkened as he whispered, “The Veilkeeper, the guardian of that forbidden place. She was once a woman, cursed long ago to protect the boundaries between life and death. Those who step into her domain are never seen again.”

Kartik nodded, his mind racing with questions. A tale of a cursed guardian? A forbidden forest? It was a researcher’s dream—a perfect blend of myth and legend. But something about the elder’s voice gave him pause, a chill creeping down his spine. Still, the rational part of him dismissed it. A legend, nothing more.

But the seed of curiosity had been planted.

The First Sign

That night, unable to sleep, Kartik stood at the edge of the village, gazing into the dark silhouette of the Veil Woods. The moon was high, casting long, eerie shadows across the ground. He could see the Marked Path—a narrow dirt road that snaked into the distance, bordered by tall stones with strange symbols etched into them.

The forest, even from a distance, seemed to hum with an energy he couldn’t quite describe. The trees, gnarled and twisted, stood like ancient sentinels guarding something darker, something alive.

He didn’t believe in the supernatural, but the thought of exploring the woods pulled at him. What if the stories were true? What if there was something beyond the rational, something waiting to be discovered? Kartik decided he would investigate the forest the next day, just to document what he found.

That night, he dreamt of a woman—her face obscured by shadows, her eyes glowing a faint, sickly yellow. She stood at the edge of the forest, watching him with a cold, lifeless stare. Her lips moved, but no words came out. She only pointed to the path.

When he woke, the taste of fear clung to him like sweat. He shook it off. It was just a dream.

Into the Veil

The following day, Kartik packed his journal, his camera, and a flashlight, preparing for his expedition. As he left the village, he noticed the eyes of the villagers on him, their expressions unreadable, their gazes filled with something close to pity.

But he was determined. The air was crisp as he followed the Marked Path, the stones on either side casting long shadows in the afternoon light. The woods loomed ahead, an impenetrable wall of darkness.

As Kartik walked deeper into the forest, the trees seemed to close in around him, the air growing colder with each step. The path, once clear and defined, began to narrow, and the symbols on the stones became more intricate, more disturbing. They looked like ancient runes, pulsating with a life of their own.

Suddenly, the woods grew silent. The birds stopped singing, and the rustling of leaves ceased. The only sound was Kartik’s breath, heavy and uncertain. He paused, a sense of unease gnawing at him.

Then, without warning, the fog descended.

It wasn’t a natural fog. It seemed to rise from the ground itself, thick and heavy, coiling around his legs like smoke. Kartik turned to head back, but the path was gone. The trees, the stones, everything had disappeared into the thick veil of mist. Panic surged through him as he realized he was completely disoriented.

A soft whisper carried through the fog.

“Kartik…”

His blood froze. The voice was familiar—hauntingly so. It was the same voice from his dream. He spun around, his flashlight cutting through the fog, but there was nothing, no one.

“Kartik…” the voice whispered again, closer now.

He began to run, his heart pounding in his chest, but the fog seemed to thicken, pulling him deeper into its suffocating embrace. His foot caught on something, and he tumbled to the ground. When he looked up, he saw her.

The woman from his dream.

She stood at the edge of the clearing, her body shrouded in mist. Her face was still obscured by shadow, but her eyes—those same sickly yellow eyes—glowed in the darkness.

“Kartik… why did you stray from the path?”

Her voice was a mere breath, but it echoed in his mind, reverberating like a scream. He scrambled to his feet, backing away, but the ground beneath him seemed to shift, pulling him toward her.

“You cannot leave now,” she whispered, stepping closer. “You are mine.”

The Veilkeeper

The woman moved toward him with a slow, deliberate grace, her feet barely touching the ground. The fog swirled around her, and with each step, Kartik felt the air grow colder, as though she were draining the life from the forest itself.

He tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. His legs were frozen, rooted to the spot as if the earth had claimed him. The woman’s eyes glowed brighter, and she smiled—a smile so cold, so empty, that it sent a shudder through his soul.

“Long ago, I was like you,” she whispered, her voice a soft melody of sorrow. “Curious. Foolish. But now, I guard the veil.”

Kartik’s breath quickened as he fought to move, to escape, but the fog was too thick, too heavy. It pressed against him, suffocating, pulling him closer to her.

“The others are waiting,” she said, her voice growing darker. “The Vanished Ones. They are here, with me. And now, you will join them.”

Suddenly, the ground beneath him gave way, and Kartik fell into the earth. He clawed at the air, but there was nothing to grasp, nothing to hold onto. The darkness swallowed him whole, and the last thing he saw was the woman’s glowing eyes, watching him as he disappeared into the void.

The Vanished Ones

When Kartik woke, he was no longer in the forest. He was standing in a strange, otherworldly place—an endless, barren landscape, shrouded in fog. The trees were twisted and dead, their branches clawing at the sky. Shadows moved in the distance, figures walking aimlessly through the mist.

The Vanished Ones.

They were lost, their faces hollow and gaunt, their eyes empty. They wandered without purpose, trapped in this shadowy realm between life and death.

“Kartik…”

The voice called again, and he turned to see the woman, the Veilkeeper, standing at the edge of the fog.

“Welcome,” she whispered, her smile widening. “You are home now.”

As the fog closed in around him, Kartik realized the horrifying truth. He had become one of them—one of the Vanished Ones. Forever lost, forever wandering.

And no one would ever find him.

In darkwood, the villagers whispered of the man who had strayed from the Marked Path, never to return. They mourned him quietly, but they were not surprised. For as long as anyone could remember, those who left the path were lost to the Veilkeeper.

The legend lived on, the warnings passed down to the next generation.

Stay on the path. Never stray into the Veil Woods.

For the Veilkeeper is always watching.

And once she has you, there is no escape.