SPECIMEN #04: "Whisper Lens"

[FIELD REPORT – Anon /x/ Thread | 4chan Archive]

I was ten when this happened. My whole family had rented a cabin in the woods for New Year's—cooking, music, laughter. The kind of noise that fills the air until it suddenly… doesn’t.

That afternoon, one of my cousins whispered to me that she had found a secret trail behind the trees. We snuck off together. No one noticed.

The deeper we went, the quieter it got. Even the snow felt wrong—too soft, like it was hiding something underneath. We both started hearing this strange clicking sound, like a mechanical insect. Faint, but constant. And whispers, layered over each other. Coming from nowhere, and everywhere.

My cousin said it felt like something wanted us to follow it. And I agreed. Not because I believed her—because I felt it too. Like being tugged by a thread tied to your ribs.

Then we saw it.

A digital camera, resting perfectly in a patch of wet grass. Not buried. Not burned. Just… waiting.

It was on.
The screen showed a single photo. A dark forest. Ours, maybe. But glowing red figures stood in the background—thin, stretched, almost human. They looked like they were turning toward us.

We didn’t speak. We just stared.

Then we heard the voices of our parents—real ones this time—calling, yelling. We ran back, the sound snapping us out of whatever that place was.

We never told them what we found. But we went back later.

The camera was gone.

Sometimes I still hear that clicking when I’m near deep woods. And sometimes, when I close my eyes in the dark, I see that photo again.

Not on a screen.
Inside my head.
And the figures are closer now.