This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Super-Section-4720 on 2024-09-20 05:27:18+00:00.
I’ve always been a night owl. Something about the stillness of the late hours felt… comforting. My house is right on the edge of a dense forest, so the night sounds – the crickets, the rustling leaves, the occasional owl hoot – became my lullaby. Until last night.
I was sitting on my porch, nursing a cup of coffee, the warm glow of the porch light barely pushing back the darkness of the woods. The night was particularly quiet. No crickets. No wind. Just this heavy silence that seemed to press down on everything. But I brushed it off. Weird things happen in nature, right?
Then, I heard it.
A whisper.
“Madhav.”
It was faint, almost like the wind had formed my name and pushed it toward me. I froze. The cup trembled in my hands as I strained to listen. Nothing.
I stood up, pacing across the porch, trying to shake the feeling that something was watching me. And then, the whisper came again, clearer this time.
“Madhav…”
The voice was familiar. Too familiar. It was my mom’s voice. But my mom’s been dead for six years.
I dropped the cup, and it shattered against the wooden planks. Heart racing, I stared into the trees. I knew it was impossible. There was no way. My mom hadn’t spoken to me since the accident, and yet… there it was. Her voice, calling out to me from the woods.
I should’ve gone inside. I should’ve locked the doors, but instead, I grabbed a flashlight and stepped off the porch. The beam of light cut through the thick trees as I moved closer to where the voice had come from.
“Madhav… help me.”
That’s when the temperature dropped. The air around me became so cold that I could see my breath, and the ground beneath my feet felt wrong, like the earth was shifting. I should’ve turned back, but there was something pulling me deeper into the forest. The trees closed in tighter, branches scraping against my arms as I pushed through.
I don’t know how long I walked. Five minutes? An hour? Time seemed to warp around me, and then I saw it. A figure standing between the trees. My flashlight flickered, but I could see enough to know that the figure… wasn’t right.
It had my mother’s face, but her skin was too pale, almost translucent. Her eyes were hollow, sunken in like someone had scooped them out. She opened her mouth, and that same voice came out.
“Madhav…”
I stumbled back, tripping over a root and falling hard onto the cold earth. The thing started moving toward me, slow and deliberate, her feet barely making a sound on the leaves.
I scrambled to get up, but my legs wouldn’t work. I was frozen in place, watching as my dead mother stretched out a bony hand, her nails jagged and sharp.
“Madhav… come with me…”
In that moment, I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything to get away, but my body wouldn’t listen. I felt something cold wrap around my ankle, like icy fingers dragging me toward her.
And then, she smiled. It wasn’t my mother’s smile. It was something sinister, twisted, like it was wearing her face as a mask.
I don’t know how, but I snapped out of it. My legs finally obeyed, and I ran. I didn’t stop until I was back on my porch, slamming the door behind me. I locked it, bolted every window, and sat in the middle of the living room with my back against the wall.
I didn’t sleep.
The next morning, I went to the edge of the woods. My footprints were still there, leading deep into the trees. But there was something else. Another set of prints… larger than mine, following right behind.
I don’t go outside at night anymore.
And I keep hearing her voice. Madhav…
Even when I’m awake. Even when I’m not alone. It’s always there.
Calling me