Heyyyy bestiess 🩷🪻🌷✨️ how r u guys l hope so u all r keeping well so as l told l am going to post a new story....and here it is l really hope so that u guys will love and support as much as u did to After midnight

so let's start 🌷✨️✌️

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The Girl Who Lost Her Soul ✨️🌷

Part 1 – The Hollow Girl 🌌🖤

The town of Duskwood always seemed half-asleep, wrapped in a fog that never lifted. The lamplights flickered like weary guardians, and the forest pressed close, whispering secrets no one dared to hear. At the heart of this quiet gloom lived Elara.

She was a girl people often described as beautiful but distant, like a painting you could admire but never touch. Her eyes reflected the moonlight yet never truly shone. She laughed when expected, spoke when necessary, but inside, she felt like an abandoned house—walls standing, windows open, but empty within.

Elara could not remember the last time she cried, the last time she truly loved, or the last time a dream had woken her in the night. She wasn’t broken exactly. She was hollow. As if something precious had been stolen from her.

One night, unable to sleep, she wandered outside. The moon hung full above the black silhouettes of trees, glowing brighter than the lamps of the street. As Elara looked up, she froze.

A silver thread shimmered faintly against the night, stretching from her chest all the way up into the sky. Her breath caught. She touched her sternum, and beneath her skin, something tugged—soft but undeniable.

The thread led upward, and as her eyes followed it, she saw it connect to the moon.

For the first time in years, Elara felt something stir inside her. Awe. Fear. Longing.

“Do you see it too?” a voice whispered from the shadows.

She spun around, heart racing. But there was no one there—only the lamppost humming quietly, the branches shaking with the night wind.

Her hand moved instinctively into the pocket of her cloak, where she felt something warm. Pulling it out, she found a small pendant—silver, shaped like a circle with a faintly glowing crystal in the center. She didn’t remember ever owning it. where did it even come from l don't remember anything...about it....

The moment she held it up to see clearly , the pendant pulsed with light, and the thread between her heart and the moon shimmered brighter.

Elara swallowed hard. What does it means is this something magical or is it trying to tell me something.....She had spent so long feeling nothing that the sudden rush of sensation nearly overwhelmed her.

For the first time in forever, she wanted something.

She wanted to know what she had lost.

And why the moon seemed to hold it.

what was that...? she suddenly snapped back to reality...she asked herself....maybe my imagination or maybe some spirit....? nah must be my imagination...but that silver light...tha-that pendant I don't remember anything about it.....

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The next evening, Elara could not stay inside. The thread had not faded—it hummed softly within her chest all day, like a secret heartbeat that belonged to something far away. The pendant in her pocket pulsed whenever she touched it, guiding her like a compass.

By dusk, she found herself standing at the edge of the forest. The townsfolk always warned against venturing inside; they called it the Forest of Forgotten Echoes, a place where memories twisted into shadows. But Elara felt no fear. For the first time in her life, she felt pulled.

The silver thread shimmered faintly in the dark, weaving between the skeletal trees. She stepped forward. The fog clung to her boots, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves beneath her. Each step felt heavier, as though the air itself resisted her passage.

“Lost ones always return here,” a low voice croaked.

Elara froze. Perched on a branch above her sat a raven, its feathers glistening with an odd silver sheen. Its eyes glowed like tiny lanterns.

“Who are you?” she asked, startled at her own courage.

The raven tilted its head. “A question without a name is an answer without meaning. Keep walking, girl-who-has-no-soul. The forest has been waiting.”

Before she could reply, the bird launched itself into the air, vanishing into the fog.

Elara’s hand tightened on the pendant, her breath quickening. She pressed forward, following the faint silver thread. Soon, the trees began to whisper. At first, it was only the wind, but then… voices.

“Do you remember?”

“You left us behind…”

“A promise broken under moonlight.”

Elara shook her head, pressing her palms to her ears, but the whispers seeped in like cold water. She realized they weren’t strangers’ voices. They were hers. Her own words, spoken long ago, forgotten until now.

She stumbled into a small clearing, where a lantern stood atop an old wooden post. But there was no flame. Instead, the lantern itself glowed faintly, as if lit by a ghostly hand.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

This time, the voice was not a raven or a whisper. It was a man’s.

From the fog stepped a figure cloaked in black. His hair was dark, his eyes a pale gray that reflected the moonlight. A sword hung at his side, though it looked more like a relic than a weapon. He studied her with an expression caught between curiosity and warning.

Elara’s grip tightened on the pendant. “Who are you?”

The man smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Someone cursed to wander these woods. And someone who knows what you’ve lost.”

Elara’s heart thudded. “My soul?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. But you don’t understand the price of finding it.”

For the first time, Elara felt a tremor of fear. And yet, beneath it, something else stirred—hope.

Because if he knew about her soul, it meant she wasn’t alone in her search.

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🪻🌺 hello bestiesss l hope so u guys are enjoying the story also do drop your thoughts and suggestions in the chat box 🌷✨️

The man’s presence unsettled Elara, yet she could not look away. His eyes carried the weight of centuries, as if he had seen countless souls wander through these woods and never return.

“You speak as though you’ve been waiting for me,” she said carefully.

His lips curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Not for you. For anyone foolish enough to follow the thread.”

Elara’s hand brushed her chest, where the silver line shimmered faintly. “You can see it?”

He stepped closer, the fog curling around him. “Of course. That thread binds you to what was taken. But following it will cost you more than you imagine.”

Her throat tightened. For years, she had lived hollow, numb, drifting through days without color. What more could she possibly lose? “If it leads me to my soul, then I’ll pay it.”

The man studied her for a long moment, then inclined his head. “Very well. But remember—you chose this.”

He turned and began walking deeper into the forest. Against her better judgment, Elara followed. The lantern ahead flickered suddenly, and she realized it was no ordinary light. Shadows spilled from it like ink, forming shapes that danced across the ground—children laughing, lovers embracing, a woman crying into her hands.

Elara slowed, transfixed. She recognized them.

They were her.

Her laughter, when she was small and carefree. Her joy, when her mother tucked flowers into her hair. The tears she shed on the night she couldn’t bear to remember.

Her steps faltered. “These are…”

“Fragments,” the man said quietly. “Echoes of what you’ve forgotten. To reclaim your soul, you must face each one. Relive it. Accept it.”

The images shimmered and began to dissolve, but Elara felt the weight of them pressing into her chest. A sharp ache bloomed in her ribs, the first real pain she had felt in years.

“Why do they hurt?” she whispered.

“Because they are yours,” he said simply. “What is forgotten always demands a price when remembered.”

She clutched the pendant until her knuckles whitened. Her hollow life had spared her pain, yes—but it had also robbed her of joy. Wasn’t that too high a price already?

As if sensing her doubt, the man glanced at her. “You can still turn back.”

“No.” Her voice trembled, but she held her ground. “I’ve lived too long as a shadow. I’d rather feel everything—pain and all—than nothing at all.”

For a fleeting moment, something softened in his expression. But he turned away before she could be sure.

The fog deepened, and the trees closed in. The silver thread gleamed brighter, pulling her forward. Somewhere in its glow, Elara thought she saw a flicker of warmth—like a memory of laughter she had almost forgotten.

It felt like the beginning of something dangerous.

And maybe, something beautiful.

Really....? yes....

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