The forest of Strongville was quiet and secluded, like a long forgotten territory left behind by mankind. To most of the town’s inhabitants, this forest was simply a part of their native nature that they could walk through without giving much thought to its dark and forgotten corners. But for three boys, who at that moment did not yet know for what purpose they were coming here, this place was the beginning of the most terrifying adventure of their lives.
Tom, Jack and Bill were teenagers living in Strongville, a small town surrounded by dense forests and mysterious expanses. They often walked through the surrounding woods exploring their uncharted trails, building campfires and arguing about what was hidden in the shadows. This time they decided to explore an old abandoned trail that a local old man had told them about not too long ago. Legends of mysterious disappearances and strange phenomena occurring in these parts remained only rumors until something made them look at the forest from a whole new angle.
When they reached the banks of the Rocky River, the air became unusually heavy. The forest seemed to have slowed to its normal rhythm. Everything around them seemed to stop. The usual rustling of leaves was not heard, nor was the smell of rain that usually accompanied their travels. The boys walked on in silence, but something in their inner world began to disturb them subconsciously.
Tom, as the eldest, still paced ahead, slightly tense. He was sure that nothing terrible would happen. But when they saw the strange stain on the ground by the river, everything changed. At first they thought it was just trash, forgotten footprints by someone. But as they got closer, the boys realized that it wasn’t just a pile of dirt and twigs. Hidden in that patch was a human skeleton, badly destroyed by time and natural forces.
Tom stopped abruptly, his face pale. He pointed to the object hidden beneath the layer of dirt. Jack bent down to examine it and cried out in horror when he noticed that not only was the skeleton damaged, but there was a hole clearly visible in the skull. It was small, neat, but clearly not of natural origin. Peeking through time and earth was the mark of a .25 caliber bullet, a weapon not so common in those years.
From that point on, the air in the woods grew even thicker. Instead of amusement, the boys began to sense that something terrible had happened here. Tom looked at his friends silently and said: “We must report to the police.” But his voice sounded strange, as if it was not just a suggestion, but an order that they all understood.
