Build a fortress. Hide in the dark. Pray it's all in your head.
For seventeen-year-old Dan and his three college friends, the plan was simple: escape the crowded UK summer for a patch of nameless woodland that doesn't appear on any official map. No tents, no rules-just axes, shovels, and the ambition to build the ultimate underground bunker.
It starts as a game. With every trip, they stay longer and dig deeper into the earth. But as the canopy thickens and the city feels miles away, the silence of the woods begins to warp.
First come the noises. A door creaking where there are no houses. A scream that sounds too human to be an animal. Then comes the dread. The feeling of being watched by something tall enough to look over the treeline.
Martin calls it "forest fever." James laughs it off with jokes about old legends. But Dan, fuelled by his grandmother's dark stories, can't shake the feeling that they aren't just camping-they are building their own traps.
In the "Green Void," the line between psychological illusion and physical terror is razor-thin. They came to the woods to feel alive, but they are about to discover why some places remain unclaimed.
The fire is dying. The wood is gone. And something in the dark has finally stopped waiting.