The overwhelming aura coming from the tree was dizzying. Frustrated by the creeping dread and wanting immediate answers, Leo stepped forward, raising a sharp, heavy metal garden stake. Before Clara could tell him to stop, he aggressively stabbed the metal tip deep into the softest, most swollen part of the grotesque bark lump. The moment he pulled the stake back out, the tree didn’t bleed sap. It screamed.
A high-frequency, piercing whistle blasted violently out of the newly punctured hole. It was the exact melodic tune they had heard at night, but amplified to a deafening, industrial volume. Within seconds, the escaping acoustic frequency became so incredibly intense that it caused instant, physical nausea. Clara’s head spun violently, her ears rang with agonizing pain, and Leo dropped to his knees, covering his ears. Panic-stricken, Clara fumbled with her phone and dialed the police.