Before long, Finn and Majestria made their departure into the Whispering Forest—into the misty fog like James entering Silent Hill.
The forest was thick and gnarled, its enchanted mist curling between twisted roots. The trees groaned softly, like they were gossiping. Finn shivered as the air brushed the back of his neck like it was whispering to him. No pun intended.
While Majestria walked forward without a care in the world, completely unbothered by the haunted vibe, Finn was gripping the box with the severed head inside—at a distance, of course, like it might bite.
’This is complete ass.’ Finn’s eyes narrowed at Majestria. ’How is she totally fine in here? This place literally gives me the creeps.’
He sighed, looking down.
Then something whispered.
Finn looked up at Majestria, lips parted, assuming she had said something.
He looked at the box.
Eyes widening in horror, he stared at it as a muffled voice echoed from within:
"I remember your sins, Finn... all four hundred thirty-seven of them."
Finn ran up behind Majestria without hesitation.
"About time you caught up," she said with a sigh, "but do stand behind me. I don’t want you ahead of me."
"Shut—no, listen," Finn whispered. "The head just spoke to me. It’s saying weird shit and creeping me out."
The forest was eerily silent. No birds. No wind. Just the crunch of leaves beneath their feet.
"Why are you whispering? Speak up—I can’t hear you!" Majestria raised her voice casually.
"Don’t yell!" Finn whisper-shouted back. "We don’t know what’s out here! Use your damn brain! It’s dead silent in this forest, and you’re out here yelling like an annoying mom calling for her kids in public!"
Suddenly, a vine ahead slithered like a snake.
Finn froze. Full horror movie mode. This was why he hated horror games. Every time he played one, he ended up screaming and running away from the monitor.
Majestria, meanwhile, just looked mildly disgusted.
Trying to distract himself, Finn opened the box’s doodle map. "If we keep going straight, we should reach a building soon. Then we can be done with this hellhole."
Majestria stopped and spun around, hand on hip. "How much farther? I’m not walking forever. It’ll ruin my feet. You’ll have to carry me."
Finn blinked in disbelief.
"Listen, I’m not going to hear you complain about how creepy this forest is. You’re a man. So man—"
"Oh shut up your loud piehole, you glorified lampstand," a voice cut in.
Finn cracked the box open.
The head glared upward. "You’ve done nothing but whine, pose, and radiate weaponized delusions since I first heard your irritating voice."
Majestria blinked, offended.
"’It’ll ruin my feet’—what are you, a porcelain toddler at a tiara convention? I’ve seen tissue paper with more durability."
Majestria opened her mouth to fire back—
"And spare me your wannabe divine lectures, bubblebrain. You’re more annoying than a crying elderly woman watching soap operas with the volume maxed out. You ride this poor fool like he’s your emotional Uber."
Finn nodded slowly, feeling both insulted and seen.
Majestria stepped forward, looming over the box. "You better show me some respect. I’m a divine being."
The head scanned her. "Ohhh. That explains the narcissism... and the cleavage with no combat use."
She scowled. "My cleavage has plenty of use!"
"Not in battle. I only said that to see if you’d defend it, and congrats—you proved how delusionally idiotic you are."
Finn wheezed, struggling to breathe.
The head continued, "Let me guess—you’re the demoted airhead ’goddess’ who fumbled her own divine duties, and this guy’s your emotionally unstable mortal manchild?"
"I’m not unstable!" Finn shouted.
"You’re yelling at a head in a box, wearing a torn hoodie with dried slime and piss stains, while reeking of secondhand sweat—not even your own sweat. Oh, and earlier? You carried your narcissistic dominatrix like a backpack. You are the last person who gets to call himself ’stable.’"
Majestria sniffed. "He chose to carry me."
"I bet he also chose to have a libido and zero women. You two are the discount bin version of a power couple. Like if a minor god and a wine mom had a divorce during a Renaissance fair."
Finn gripped the box so hard his knuckles went white. "Can we please just deliver you without the commentary? We’re not trying to annoy you."
"Oh, I can stop. Sure. Once you deliver me to someone competent. Until then, I’m going to keep making fun of you two like it’s my duty."
Majestria crossed her arms. "You’re just mad because you’re a head in a box."
"And you’re a ’goddess’ whose only miracle is not tipping over from the weight of your own boobs. What’s your power—Blessed Back Pain?"
Finn nearly collapsed from the burn, wheezing and grabbing his knees.
The head scoffed. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to nap and dream of better handlers. Preferably literate ones. With a moral compass. And social skills. Goodbye."
With that, the head turned itself sideways and shut the box from the inside.
Leaving Finn and Majestria standing in the forest...
...egos completely shattered.
Majestria grabbed both of her boobs and started lifting them up and down like she was weighing produce at a divine farmer’s market.
Finn turned and started walking deeper into the forest. "Come on, Majestria. Let’s not waste any more time."
She didn’t say a word—just followed behind him in silent defeat, still absentmindedly weighing her chest like she was seeing if they really weighed much as the head said.
And so, they ventured deeper into the eerie, silent woods of the Whispering Forest.
They started to hear actual whispering. Not just the creepy vibe, but real, distinct voices—like someone muttering secrets just out of earshot. The kind that made you question if you were hearing things... or if you’d just unlocked schizophrenia co-op mode.
As they continued forward, the whispers grew more defined.
Finn froze. "...Was that moaning?"
Another soft "ahhh~" echoed between the trees, followed by a playful giggle... and a very suggestive leaf rustle.
Majestria squinted, scanning the forest. "Sounds like someone’s in danger... or the trees are getting more whispering."
Finn, eyes wide, placed a single finger against her lips. "Shhh... I found where it’s coming from."
Majestria blinked, startled by the sudden move. "Did you just—"
He ignored her, tiptoeing toward a dense cluster of bushes. He peeked through the leaves—and motioned for her to join him.
She reluctantly crouched beside him, parting the brush with him.