"Gateway of Wishes: A Tale of Mystical Stones and Forbidden Desires"

### "Gateway of Wishes: A Tale of Mystical Stones and Forbidden Desires"eepy, huh?” Sam whispered, pushing past her.

“They believe that on the longest day of every year, a mystical gateway opens. If their intentions are pure and their faith unwavering, their wishes might be granted,” Max explained.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Emily asked.

“Then the Ancient One punishes them instead of blessing them,” Sam replied as they reached the stone. Max flicked on the flashlight and shone it over the ancient rock.

The rock was dirty and unkempt, but there was something almost mesmerizing about it. Emily squinted, noticing faint writings etched into the stone amid the moss and foliage.

She brushed the leaves away.

“I wouldn’t bother... It’s a lost language. Many villagers have tried to decipher it over the years, but no one has succeeded.”

Emily rolled her eyes. Intrigued, she grabbed Max’s wrist and directed the flashlight closer.

Squinting, she slowly mouthed the words:

Fttcha chka hmttia inpalya mcht umhia.

She glanced up at the boys, who had fallen silent. The woods were eerily quiet, and the air felt heavy. Emily gasped as a cold wind blew through her hair, making the candles flicker.

“BOO!”

Emily jumped, startled.

“Keep it down, Sam! Do you want to get us caught?” Max scolded.

Sam ignored him, laughing at Emily.

“Relax, they’re all long gone. It’s just us, and him,” Kyle said, pointing at the stone.

“Yeah, it’s not my fault she’s a chicken,” Sam taunted.

“I am not a chicken!” Emily snapped.

“Oh yeah?” Sam raised his eyebrows, the shadows and dim moonlight casting a menacing look over his face. “Prove it.” He snickered. Reaching for her hand, he placed something cold and hard in it.

The moonlight reflected off the metal, and she held it up: a can of spray paint.

“What are you waiting for?” he teased.

The pit in Emily’s stomach grew heavier. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“It’s easy,” Max said. “Shake it, point it away from you, press the nozzle, and write something.”

“But why?”

“Told ya, she’s chicken.” Sam’s smug tone made her blood boil. She shook her head in disgust. She desperately wanted friends, but there were limits.

Emily lowered her arm defiantly. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Sam snatched the can from her hand. “Pathetic,” he spat, his voice full of spite.

Emily’s face turned red as tears welled up in her eyes. Turning away from the stone, she hurried toward the treeline. “Screw this!” she shouted but didn’t look back.

She no longer cared about being alone in the woods; she only cared about not letting them see her cry.

She walked downhill through the woods, listening to the laughter and the hiss of spray cans in the distance. Her heart sank as she wept and picked up speed, desperately seeking the comfort of her bed.

*

The morning broke with the usual anticipation of the Summer Solstice. The village market was setting up while the villagers enjoyed the sunrise.

It was almost 9 a.m. when the screaming started. It began faintly, traveling on a soft breeze from the Thompson residence on the edge of town. But soon, the Miller’s cottage echoed with the same blood-curdling scream of hopelessness and grief, filling the market air. Mrs. Johnson’s distress quickly followed as she ran terrified down Market Street in her nightgown, her feet bare and soaked in blood.

Emily was having breakfast with her mother when her father burst through the door.

“Jesus, David,” his wife scolded, shocked.

“It’s the Miller boy, Jane—and the Johnson kids—and the family that lives near the river!” he panted, visibly shaken.

“What is?”

“They’re all dead! All of them! Their parents found them this morning, tucked up in their beds, murdered. The men are organizing a posse. They’re going hunting in the woods to find whoever did this. Whoever... or whatever.”

“What do you mean... whatever?” Jane whispered, her face pale.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. There was so much blood. No one heard a thing. How, Jane? How? They were crushed by something incredibly heavy. Yet their beds were intact, completely untouched, like some kind of macabre magic. Those boys will have to be peeled off their bed sheets with a shovel and a mop.”

Emily whimpered as she looked through the window and up towards the woods.