Random Horror Stories - 500

The forest pressed in around him. Trees twisted upward, dark and dense, blocking out whatever light there had been left in the sky. His steps faltered as he moved deeper into the thicket, the ground soft underfoot, half-swallowed by the rot of leaves and moss. A chill ran through him. His breath hung heavy in the cold. It felt like the forest was alive—like it was watching him.

Tommy should have known better. His mind replayed his last conversation with his brother. Don't go into the woods after dusk, Tyler had said, his voice shaky. The Black Bird is real. Don't mess with it.

But he had to see for himself. People talked about it—everyone who came to the islands had heard the stories. The Black Bird, they called it. A creature that had existed for centuries, something that nobody really understood. Some said it was a curse, others claimed it was a warning. But no one had ever seen it and lived to tell the tale.

Now, as night pulled its cold fingers over the sky, Tommy wasn't so sure. His heartbeat thudded in his chest, drowning out everything else. He took another step forward, the dense brush around him making him feel more trapped with each movement.

A sound—soft at first—came from behind him. It was faint, like the rustling of a large bird's wings. He spun around, breath caught, but nothing. Just the heavy silence of the forest closing in.

He cursed under his breath. Get a grip, Tommy.

But it was there again. The rustling grew louder, sharp like the snap of dry branches. Tommy turned back to face the path ahead. His hands trembled, gripping the flashlight tighter, the beam of light darting frantically around.

Then, a shape. Just for a moment, out of the corner of his eye. A black form perched high in the trees. His heart skipped.

It was the Black Bird.

The creature was larger than anything he'd imagined, its wings spread out wide against the backdrop of the dark sky. He tried to make sense of its features, but the more he looked, the less they made sense. The bird's beady eyes seemed to glint with an intelligence far beyond any animal's. It was staring straight at him.

His breath hitched in his throat. He should leave—he had to leave. But his feet refused to move. The bird's eyes seemed to hold him there, rooted in place, powerless. Then, it blinked. Slowly. A heavy, deliberate movement. Its beak opened, and Tommy swore he could hear the sound of something being breathed into the air, like the life was being sucked from everything around him.

The forest fell into absolute silence. No breeze. No rustling. Not even the sound of his own pulse.

His mind raced. Get out. He told himself, over and over. But his legs wouldn't move. His body felt frozen, suspended in some terrible moment that stretched on forever. Then, he heard it.

The noise. Faint at first, but unmistakable. The sound of something heavy moving through the underbrush, approaching from behind.

Tommy's heart hammered. He didn't need to look back. The creature was behind him, creeping closer. He could feel it now, a presence so close it seemed to press against his skin.

His throat closed as he gasped for air. He tried to move his feet, tried to run, but they wouldn't obey. Every time he tried to take a step, it felt as though the forest was swallowing him whole. Every tree, every leaf, every shadow was closing in.

The rustling stopped.

Then—he felt it.

A sharp cold, like the brush of a million needles, ran across his skin. It was so cold, it burned.

Tommy screamed.

He shot a glance back over his shoulder.

A face. A twisted, skeletal thing. It stared at him, a mouth too wide, a grin that stretched beyond reason, black eyes that pulsed like the very darkness around him. It was the Black Bird. But it wasn't just a bird. It was something else. Something ancient. Something worse.

The creature's hand—or what he thought was a hand—reached out for him, skeletal fingers like branches grabbing at his throat. He struggled, but it was no use. Its grip was too tight. The cold seeped in deeper, choking the air from his lungs.

He kicked, clawed at its grip, but it wouldn't budge. The bird's face loomed closer, its eyes never leaving his. There was nothing human about it.

The forest seemed to hum, a noise too low to hear, but felt all over his body. The Black Bird's laughter came next—low, raspy, like the wind scraping over the bones of the dead.

It leaned in, and with a voice as old as the earth itself, it spoke.

"Why did you come?" it asked.

Tommy couldn't answer. His breath came in gasps, his vision narrowing. There was a pressure in his chest, a weight that crushed him, forced every drop of air out of his body. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

The creature's smile widened. It wasn't just malicious—it was hollow. It reached down with its long, sharp beak, and Tommy's heart stopped when it touched his chest.

Pain exploded through him. It wasn't a bite—it was worse. Something inside him was being ripped out, not flesh, but something deeper. Something darker.

The Black Bird didn't let go. It savored the sensation of his life force draining away. Tommy could feel himself weakening, his limbs growing numb, his thoughts clouded by the horror of it all.

Then, a terrible sound—the cracking of bones.

It wasn't just his body that was breaking. It was his soul. Torn from the inside out.

The creature's beak pulled away, its face moving closer, its voice now soft and almost... tender.

"This is the price," it murmured, the words laced with ancient sorrow. "The price for knowing what should remain hidden."

Tommy's head lolled forward. His vision blurred, and the cold overtook him. He could feel his body slipping into the dark abyss, unable to fight, unable to move, trapped in the grasp of something beyond comprehension.

With one final, agonizing pull, the Black Bird ripped what remained of Tommy's essence from him, leaving behind only an empty shell.

The creature stepped back, its gaze never leaving the lifeless form it had left behind. It tilted its head, as though contemplating, before it spread its wings.

As the bird took flight, the wind stirred, but only for a moment. The forest grew quiet again, save for the distant sounds of nature reclaiming what had been lost.

Somewhere far off, Tyler stood at the edge of the woods, his eyes searching the dark for his brother. He had heard Tommy's scream. He knew it was too late.

But he still couldn't bring himself to leave. He had heard the stories, too. And now, deep in the heart of the island, something waited, its hunger sated, its curse fulfilled. The Black Bird had claimed another soul. And the forest, as always, would be silent.