The mystery

The town of Eldenbrook had always been quiet, but something sinister lingered in the air that autumn. People spoke of shadows in the woods—things moving just beyond sight. At night, whispers carried through the trees, though no one could find their source.

Finn, a curious boy of fifteen, had heard the stories his whole life: the tale of the unreal hero, a spectral figure who protected the town in its darkest moments. No one could agree on what he looked like. Some claimed he was made of mist, others said he moved without sound. All agreed on one thing—he wasn’t human.

One night, as the moon disappeared behind storm clouds, Finn's curiosity got the better of him. He left his home, sneaking past his sleeping family, clutching a dim lantern as he ventured into the woods. The air felt wrong, heavy with anticipation, as if something was watching him.

The deeper he went, the more the woods seemed to close in. Trees twisted in unnatural ways, and the wind whispered Finn's name, though he was sure no one was there. His heart pounded, his mind racing with every step. What if the stories were true?

A twig snapped behind him. Finn spun around, his lantern flickering. "Who's there?" he called, his voice barely above a whisper. Silence. Then, a rustle—closer this time. His hands trembled as the darkness seemed to thicken around him. The light from his lantern flickered, casting eerie shadows.

Out of the mist, a figure slowly emerged—translucent and still. The unreal hero. But this wasn’t the silent protector Finn had imagined. The hero’s pale, glowing eyes locked onto Finn, and for a moment, the boy felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

Suddenly, the woods came alive with movement. Dark, twisted creatures with glowing eyes slithered through the underbrush, creeping toward Finn. Panic surged through him, but before he could run, the unreal hero raised a ghostly hand. Without a sound, the creatures stopped. The hero moved swiftly, almost gliding through the air, and the shadows around them seemed to melt away.

Finn stood frozen in awe as the creatures dissolved into the mist, leaving him alone with the hero. The figure turned to him, eyes burning with a strange, cold light. Though no words were spoken, Finn felt a warning—he had come too close. The unreal hero wasn’t just a legend, but something far more dangerous, far more ancient.

Before Finn could react, the hero vanished, fading into the mist as quickly as he had appeared. Finn stumbled back, heart pounding, knowing he had barely escaped whatever lay in the depths of the woods. He fled home, the realization chilling him: the unreal hero was real, but he wasn’t a savior. He was something beyond understanding, a guardian who watched from the shadows, deciding who lived and who disappeared forever.

From that night on, Finn never spoke of what he saw, but he would never forget the feeling—the eerie, unsettling presence of the unreal hero who protected the town, not from kindness, but from something far darker that still lurked in the woods.

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