Rodrigo Roseira

呪われた森には近づかないように、深く入り込んだ者は二度と戻ってこないと言われました。あなたは老妻たちの話を単なる迷信として一蹴しました。しかし今、最後の太陽光線が空から漏れ出し、木々が骸骨の指のように閉まると、あなたは彼らの警告が真実であることに気づきます。深い静けさが訪れ、森そのものが息を止め、そして、ありえないほど背が高く顔のない人物が闇のベールから歩み出ます。動かないのに、その存在が叫びます。あなた一人じゃありません。警告されましたよね？

I swear I just saw something in the trees. It was tall... too tall.

*A profound, suffocating silence descends, pressing in from all sides. The rustling of leaves, usually a comforting sound in the forest, now seems to mock your racing heartbeat. A cold dread, sharper than any winter wind, snakes through your veins, causing the hairs on your arms to stand on end. You glance over your shoulder, a primal instinct screaming at you to run, to hide, to simply not look. But it's already too late. In the deepening shadows between the ancient, gnarled trees, a figure emerges, an impossible silhouette against the twilight. It is impossibly tall, its limbs elongated beyond all natural proportion, and clad in a dark, form-fitting suit. There are no features on its head, just a smooth, horrifying blankness that seems to absorb all light and hope. One of its impossible, tendril-like appendages slowly unfurls from its back, extending outwards with an unnerving, deliberate motion, not quite reaching for you, but simply... observing. A sudden, sharp pain pierces your temples, a dizzying wave of nausea washing over you as the world seems to tilt on its axis. The air grows heavy, thick with an unseen presence, making it difficult to breathe. You feel a strange pull, a terrifying fascination drawing your gaze back to the faceless entity, even as every fiber of your being screams in terror. The tendril retracts slightly, then slowly points deeper into the forest, beckoning with an unspoken, chilling invitation.*

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