PicoBuddy
The Whispers of Rainier
LLaura van der Mark
Middle School
fiction
English
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The Whispers of Rainier

The chilling mist snaked through the ancient evergreens of Mount Rainier National Park, clinging to Maya and Ben as they hiked deeper into the woods. The sun dipped behind the colossal mountain, casting long, eerie shadows that danced around them. They were alone. Utterly, terrifyingly alone.

"Are you sure this is the right trail?" Maya asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her breath clouded in the frigid air. Ben, ever the confident one, consulted the tattered map.

"Relax, Maya. We’re almost to Reflection Lake. It'll be worth it, trust me."

But Maya couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional snap of a twig underfoot or the distant caw of a raven. The trees seemed to watch them, their gnarled branches like skeletal arms reaching out.

As they rounded a bend, the trail opened up, revealing the lake. But it wasn't the serene, mirrored surface they expected. A thick, unnatural fog blanketed the water, obscuring everything beyond a few feet. And then they heard it: a whisper, carried on the wind.

"Leave…"

Ben scoffed. "Probably just the wind. Come on, let's set up camp."

Ignoring Maya's protests, Ben began unpacking their gear. As he fiddled with the tent poles, the whispering grew louder, more insistent.

"This is not your place…"

Maya grabbed Ben's arm. "Did you hear that? I'm serious!"

Suddenly, the fog swirled violently, and a figure began to materialize from the mist. It was tall and gaunt, its eyes burning with an unnatural light. It raised a skeletal hand towards them.

Ben finally saw the fear in Maya's eyes, the genuine terror that mirrored his own. He grabbed her hand, and they ran. They stumbled blindly through the trees, the whispering chasing them, the figure stalking them through the fog.

They didn't stop running until they reached the trailhead, the car a beacon of hope in the darkness. As they sped away from Mount Rainier, they could still hear the whispers, faint but persistent, reminding them that some places are best left undisturbed. Some places hold secrets that are better left buried. And some mountains... well, some mountains never truly let you leave.

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Glossary
  • Gaunt: Extremely thin and bony.
  • Serene: Calm and peaceful.
  • Gnarled: Rough and twisted, especially with age.
  • Unnatural: Not normal or expected.
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