Nadeesha’s passion for wildlife was not just a hobby. It was her way of connecting with the world. Every weekend she trekked into the emerald embrace of the jungle behind her village. Her camera slung around her neck. Her eyes were scanning for the rare moments that others would never witness.

On that particular morning the sky was painted in sleepy shades of violet and gold as she stepped onto a new trail. Her brother, Praveen, had warned her, “Nobody goes that way. They say the animals are restless there.” Nadeesha had smiled. “That’s where the real pictures are.” She never came back.

By nightfall her family was frantic. The search party entered the jungle with flashlights and rifles. For two days they combed the woods. Then under the wide arms of an ancient tree they found her camera, lying on its side, lens cracked but intact.

Image by Rajesh Balouria from Pixabay

They rushed it back and extracted the memory card. The photos started off as expected. A troop of langurs leaping across trees, a sambar deer peeking through foliage, a kingfisher frozen mid-flight. Then came the final image. The search team stared at the screen in silence.

It showed a wooden hut one that no one had ever seen or heard of in that part of the forest. More unsettling was the figure at its door which was tall, gaunt, half-hidden in shadow. It didn’t look human. Long limbs. A thin head tilted slightly watching.

The timestamp said it was taken just before noon. But there was no hut in that area. Or so they thought. A month passed. Rumors spread fast some said Nadeesha had wandered into an ancient cursed land. Others whispered she had found a place she was never meant to see. But Praveen couldn’t let go.

He enlarged the photo, studied the foliage, traced her path based on landmarks in her earlier shots. One weekend he quietly slipped into the forest with his friend Vimukthi a tracker who had once served in the army.

They walked for hours until the trail seemed to vanish under their feet. Then, in the heavy silence, they heard something a click like a camera shutter. They froze. Nothing.

But Praveen pressed forward. “She came this way.” They reached the tree where her camera had been found. There was no sign of struggle. No footprints. Then Vimukthi stopped and pointed. “Look.”

Image by Joe from Pixabay

Barely visible in the overgrowth there was a path which was narrow, old. As they followed it the trees began to change. The air grew damp. Moss carpeted the bark, and vines moved slightly, as if breathing.

And then they saw it. The hut from the photo. It stood silently in a clearing. No birdsong. No wind. The door creaked open. Praveen called out, “Nadeesha?” No response.

Vimukthi raised his flashlight and stepped inside. The floor groaned under their weight. Cobwebs shimmered in the light, but there was no dust as though someone still lived there. In the far corner they found a photo album.

All the photos were printed in black and white even though the paper was modern. One picture stopped Praveen cold. It was Nadeesha or something that had once been her. She stood by the lake’s edge, barefoot, eyes wide and distant. Behind her was the tall figure from the photo. Its hand hovered above her shoulder not touching almost like claiming.

Suddenly from the back room a faint melody began. A music box. Praveen turned. The figure stood in the hallway. Not a creature, not fully human. Its skin was bark-like, its limbs impossibly long. No mouth, no eyes, yet Praveen felt it was seeing him.

Vimukthi raised his flashlight. “Move!” They ran crashing through vines, over roots, not daring to look back. But as they reached the tree line, Praveen turned. The hut was gone. Only trees. The path had vanished, swallowed whole.

They returned to the village pale and shaken. No one believed them. The hut didn’t appear in satellite maps. The camera photo was now corrupted. The final image gone.

But the photo album remained. Proof. That night, Praveen dreamed of the lake. Of Nadeesha standing on the surface, her reflection missing. Of the figure beside her whispering, “She chose to stay.” He awoke gasping the music box tune still in his ears.

Weeks passed. One morning, a villager reported seeing a rare white deer near the forest edge something unseen in decades. Another swore they heard a woman’s laughter near the river, though no one was there.

Praveen knew. Nadeesha was still in the forest. Maybe not as they knew her, but she was part of it now — drawn into a world hidden behind the veil of leaves and time, where spirits kept watch and memory was a living thing.

He didn’t return to the forest after that. But sometimes when the wind blew just right, he heard a camera shutter echo in the trees. And he hoped perhaps foolishly that she was still taking pictures. Of a world no one else would ever see.

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I would like to invite @chant, @suboohi and @josepha to join this contest and show up with their own fictional story.