Three friends—Ravi, Naina, and Imran—set off on a weekend camping trip deep in the dense
forests of Uttarakhand. They pitched their tent near an old tribal trail, ignoring the warnings of villagers who said the jungle comes alive after dark.
As night fell, the air turned colder. The usual chirps and rustles of the forest faded into an unnatural silence. Around midnight, a strange whistling sound echoed through
the trees, followed by faint laughter—soft, childlike, and chilling.
The friends assumed it was just wind—until they heard someone calling Ravi’s name from deep inside the forest.
But it was Ravi’s own voice.
Terrified, they locked themselves inside the tent. But the voices grew louder, closer—repeating their names, mimicking their laughter, even whispering secrets only they knew.
Suddenly, the tent shook violently. When Imran looked out, he saw dozens of glowing eyes between the trees—no bodies, just eyes watching silently.
Ravi vanished when they looked away for a moment.
By dawn, Naina and
Imran were found by a forest patrol—shivering, speechless, with mud-covered scratches all over their bodies. Ravi was never found.
Locals say the
forest is cursed—home to echo spirits that lure humans with familiar voices. If you answer them, they take your soul and leave your body behind, hollow and wandering.
Now, no one camps there. But on certain moonless nights, the jungle still whispers names—waiting for someone curious enough to listen.
So if you're ever deep in the woods and hear your own voice calling you…
Don’t answer.
Run.
