For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
The sight was so unexpected and so grotesque that my brain struggled to process what I was seeing.
It looked wrong.
Deeply wrong.
Like something from a nightmare.
The longer I stared, the worse it became.
The “fingers” appeared curled and twisted, as if frozen in a final desperate gesture. They protruded directly from the forest floor, surrounded by damp leaves and dark earth, creating the illusion that something had been buried there and was trying to escape.
Then another detail caught my attention.
A smell.
At first it was faint.
Then it became impossible to ignore.
A sickly odor drifted through the air.
Rot.
Decay.
The unmistakable scent of something decomposing.
The smell immediately triggered a primal reaction.
My pulse accelerated.
Every instinct screamed that something was terribly wrong.
I felt a cold chill travel down my spine.
My mind raced through increasingly disturbing possibilities.
Had an animal died nearby?
Was this some kind of carcass?
Something worse?
The normally peaceful forest suddenly felt different.
The sounds seemed quieter.
The shadows darker.
The silence heavier.
Even the birds appeared to have stopped singing.
I placed a protective hand on Leo’s shoulder and gently moved him behind me.
His grip on my jacket tightened.
“What is it?” he asked.
I wished I knew.
To be honest, part of me wanted to turn around immediately and leave.
Yet curiosity kept me rooted in place.
I forced myself to take a deep breath.
Then another.
Slowly, I stepped closer.
The object remained motionless.
The smell intensified.
The closer I got, the more disturbing it looked.
Its surface appeared wet and glossy
