The wind whispered through the clearing where the Counting Tree had stood, stirring the ashes into a spiraling dance that caught in Emily's hair. She sat on the forest floor, her limbs numb, her breathing shallow. The silence was no longer suffocating—just… hollow.
They had won.
They had ended the round.
And yet, nothing felt complete.
Marcus paced at the edge of the clearing, eyes flicking toward the horizon, where the trees stood still but seemed to lean in like silent watchers. Ava knelt beside Emily, checking for injuries, but her eyes were on Leah, who sat curled up with her bunny, humming softly.
"She hasn't said anything since you came back," Ava murmured. "Just that one word. 'Found.' Over and over."
Emily nodded. "She remembers something. Not everything, maybe. But enough."
The firelight from their makeshift lantern flickered weakly, casting pale gold across their faces. The moon was high now, gleaming through the jagged canopy. Despite the cold, sweat clung to Emily's back.
Marcus finally stopped pacing. "So what now? Is it really over? Did we break the game?"
Emily's fingers tightened around Leah's hand. "I think… I think we broke that round. That part of it. But the forest—this place—it's older than the game. Older than us. And it's still watching."
Ava frowned. "You mean the rules changed again?"
"No." Emily looked at the ashes where the tree once stood. "I think we changed them."
She glanced at the journal, which now looked warped, the pages slightly translucent at the edges like they had been touched by fire. The ink bled at the corners of the pages, curling into strange symbols.
"Devon left us this," Emily whispered. "He knew what was coming. He got close—closer than anyone else—but he didn't finish the game. That's why it lingered."
Marcus crossed his arms. "So the only way to end it for good is…?"
"To win," Emily said, "completely."
They hiked for hours through thickening woods.
The forest, though still heavy with secrets, was quieter now. Not benign, but no longer hungry. The shadows no longer moved on their own. The ground no longer pulsed beneath their feet. But Emily could feel the presence—like a sleeping giant watching through a dream.
As dawn bled slowly across the sky, they came upon a ridge overlooking the old creek bed. There was something buried beneath the shallow earth—Emily could feel the thrum of it in her bones.
"We're near another anchor," she said. "Like the tree. Or the Hollow."
Marcus scowled. "Another part of the game?"
"Or what's left of it."
They set up camp under a thicket of trees, building a fire from dry moss and broken twigs. Ava took first watch while Marcus and Leah rested. Emily stayed near the edge of the ridge, staring into the low fog curling across the trees.
A voice broke the silence.
"You've come far."
Emily froze.
The voice came from behind her.
She turned slowly.
A figure stood at the edge of the firelight—a young girl, no older than ten, dressed in a moth-eaten sundress. Her skin was pale, but not ghostly. Her eyes were dark pits, like bark burned black.
Emily didn't move. "Who are you?"
The girl smiled faintly. "I was the first."
"The first… what?"
"The first Seeker," the girl said. "The one the game chose before your time. I counted. I searched. I never stopped."
Emily's voice cracked. "Did you win?"
"No." The girl's smile faded. "Because I didn't find myself."
A cold breeze swept through the clearing.
Ava stirred, then stood up slowly, knife in hand. "Emily, who is—?"
The girl turned to her. "Shhh. This is her memory. You're not needed here."
Ava stiffened. "Memory?"
"I'm not here to hurt her," the girl said gently. "I'm what's left of what the forest tried to forget."
Emily stepped closer. "What do you mean?"
The girl raised one hand. "You've changed the game, Emily. You broke a pattern. You ended a round. That's never happened before. Now the forest doesn't know what you are. It's watching. And waiting."
"For what?" Emily asked.
The girl stepped forward and pressed something into Emily's hand.
It was a stone, black and polished, shaped like a child's eye.
"For the final round," she said. "You'll know when it starts."
Then she was gone.
No flicker, no fade—just gone.
Emily slept that night with the stone clutched in her fist.
When she dreamed, she was in the hallway again—the one from the Counting Tree. But this time it was different.
The portraits no longer showed only the lost. Now they showed her.
She saw herself stepping into the forest the first time. Finding Devon's journal. Standing in the Hollow. Facing the twisted version of herself in the mirror pool. Carrying Leah out of the shadow halls.
And then—she saw herself alone.
Trapped.
Calling out.
With no one answering.
Emily woke with a cry.
Marcus sat up. "Another nightmare?"
"No," Emily whispered. "A warning."
They broke camp and descended the ridge.
Beneath the fog, the creek bed led to a series of stone formations—ancient, worn down by time, but unmistakably shaped. Circles. Spirals. Runes.
"This was a ritual site," Ava murmured. "Old. Before our town even existed."
Emily nodded. "This is where it started."
Marcus crouched near one of the spirals. "What's that?"
He pointed at a small pile of cloth and bone—shaped like a crude doll. It had no eyes.
Emily picked it up carefully.
Another Seeker.
Or maybe a piece of one.
"There's a game buried here," she said. "One the forest started long ago. It never ended—it just changed players."
She turned to the others.
"This is the last chapter. The final hiding spot."
Ava exhaled. "Then let's end it."
That night, Emily sat alone in the center of the stone spiral.
She held the black eye-stone in one hand, Leah's bunny in the other. Around her, Marcus and Ava stood watch, salt lines drawn around the perimeter. Leah slept nearby, protected by a circle of sigils Ava had carved with river stone.
Emily counted aloud.
"One…"
The ground trembled.
"Two…"
Fog poured in from the trees.
"Three…"
The air turned cold and sharp.
The shadows thickened and something moved just beyond the firelight.
Emily kept counting.
"Four… five… six…"
The forest opened.
Not with sound, not with light—but with memory.
All around her, figures appeared.
Children.
Dozens.
Some with no eyes, some with mouths sewn shut. Some crawling, some standing. All of them watching her.
They didn't attack.
They didn't scream.
They waited.
"Seven… eight…"
From the fog emerged the thing she'd seen before—the version of herself with cracked skin and glowing eyes. The one who had whispered lies into her dreams.
"You're not ready," the doppelgänger said. "You never were."
Emily stood.
"I don't have to be ready. I just have to be willing."
The shadow Emily stepped into the circle.
They were inches apart.
"You can't find what doesn't want to be seen."
"I already have," Emily said, raising the stone.
She pressed it to her double's forehead.
"Found you."
The forest howled.
The circle exploded in a flash of white fire.
And when the smoke cleared—
There was only Emily.
Alive.
Alone.
Victorious.