We had all heard the rumors of the supposedly haunted woods yet my friend Arthur and I made the idiotic decision to go there at night.

It was unusually cold and dreary for that time of year, but we still went into the woods where the trees were so closely knit together that hardly any light could seep through. The place left us with an immense feeling of dread and we instantly knew we shouldn't have entered, yet we continued on with our journey, deeper and deeper into the dark.

By nightfall, we had set up our camp and Arthur had gotten the genius idea to tell ghost stories. I was hesitant at first but after successfully convincing me to do so, he started; ''In these very woods, some fifty years ago, two brothers were hiking along a trail on a dark night when the eldest heard a scream!''

Arthurs words hit me like a knife, I was petrified, my heart beating about a hundred miles a minute, and yet he continued his telling of the story. ''When he turned around, the other hiker had vanished without a trace''

I stared at Arthur for a moment, a horrified look crossing my face before stating ''You're lying! That simply can't be true!''