Mark woke up the next morning feeling stiff and sore from sleeping on the hard forest floor. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, trying to get his bearings. He could hear the sounds of birds chirping in the trees and the rustle of leaves in the wind.
As he stood up and stretched, he saw that his friends were still asleep. He didn't want to wake them, so he decided to take a walk and explore the area around their campsite.
He wandered through the trees for a while, taking in the beauty of the forest. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was cool and fresh, and the scent of pine filled his nostrils.
But as he walked deeper into the forest, he began to feel a sense of unease. The trees grew thicker and the light dimmed, until he was walking in near darkness. He heard strange noises, like whispers and footsteps, that seemed to come from all around him.
And then he saw her. A figure in white, with long hair and a flowing gown, standing in a clearing up ahead. Mark froze, his heart pounding in his chest.
The figure beckoned to him, and Mark felt a strange compulsion to follow. He took a step forward, but then he heard his friend's voices calling out to him, and he snapped out of the trance.
He turned and ran back to the campsite, his heart racing with fear. When he got there, his friends were awake and waiting for him, looking concerned.
"What's wrong?" asked Sarah.
"I saw something," said Mark, panting. "A woman in white. She was in the forest."
His friends exchanged worried glances. "That sounds like the White Lady," said Tom.
"The White Lady?" asked Mark.
"She's a ghost," said Sarah. "Legend has it that she haunts these woods, searching for her lost love."
Mark shuddered. He didn't believe in ghosts, but the encounter had left him shaken. He didn't want to stay in the forest any longer than necessary.
As Mark walked down the path, he felt a chill run down his spine. The mist was getting thicker, and he could barely see a few feet in front of him. Suddenly, he heard a faint whisper, as if someone was calling his name.
He stopped and looked around, but there was no one there. The whispering grew louder, and he realized it was coming from the mist.
Mark tried to run, but his legs felt heavy, like they were rooted to the ground. He turned around, only to see a figure emerging from the mist. It was the white lady, her long hair trailing behind her, her eyes glowing like embers.
Mark froze in terror as she floated towards him, her hand outstretched. She spoke in a voice that was both soothing and terrifying, telling him of her tragic story and how she was cursed to haunt the forest for eternity.
Mark tried to back away, but the mist seemed to close in around him, trapping him in place. The white lady's hand touched his shoulder, and he felt a coldness spread through his body.
He closed his eyes and prayed for it to be over, but when he opened them again, he found himself in a different part of the forest. The mist had cleared, and he could see the path leading back to his campsite.
Shaken, Mark made his way back, his heart racing. When he arrived, he found his friends waiting for him, worried and confused.
He told them what had happened, and they listened with rapt attention. As he finished his tale, they heard the whispering of the wind outside, and a chill ran down their spines.
From that day on, Mark never ventured into the forest alone, and the white lady's haunting voice remained etched in his memory forever.
Mark stood frozen in fear as the ghostly figure floated closer and closer. He could see now that it was the White Lady, the ghost rumored to haunt these woods.
Her long, flowing dress trailed behind her, and her eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. Mark could feel the chill of her presence, and he knew that he had to get out of there.
He turned to run, but his legs felt heavy, as though they were rooted to the spot. The White Lady was upon him now, her cold, clammy hand reaching out to touch him.
But then, suddenly, she was gone. Mark looked around, confused, and saw that he was standing alone in the clearing. The trees rustled in the wind, but there was no sign of the ghostly apparition that had just been there.
Mark shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He wasn't sure if what he had just experienced was real or if it was all in his head.
As he turned to leave, Mark heard a faint whisper on the wind. He couldn't make out the words, but he had a feeling that the White Lady wasn't quite done with him yet.