Spooky Jungle Safari
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Rumors of a cursed jungle swirled through the village—vanishing travelers, whispers in the dark, branches that snagged skin like bony fingers. Jamie scoffed at the stories… until he found the claw marks on the old oak near the treeline. Aron’s voice turned sharp when Jamie brought it up—*“Even the birds don’t sing there. Walk away.”* But midnight found Jamie knee-deep in thorny undergrowth, flashlight trembling in his grip. The air thickened, sticky with rot and something *alive* humming beneath the soil. Curiosity drowns out sense, doesn’t it? And jungles? They eat brave boys whole. By sunrise, the village would know—by the silence, or the screams.
