The young man lay on the tavern floor, trembling violently. His eyes darted around as if searching for something unseen, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The other patrons backed away, fear etched on their faces.
I rushed to his side, my journalist instincts kicking in. "What happened?" I asked my voice firm but gentle.
"The shadows... they took him," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "They took Tommy."
I glanced at Dr. Crowley, who had approached with a grim expression. "Is he talking about the curse?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Seems like it," Dr. Crowley replied. "We need to get him somewhere safe."
The bartender helped us lift the young man, who kept mumbling about shadows and darkness. We carried him to a back room, where we laid him on a cot. His breathing slowed, but he remained unconscious.
"What do we do now?" I asked, feeling a surge of helplessness.
Dr. Crowley sighed. "We wait. When he wakes up, he might be able to tell us more. But in the meantime, you should be careful. The shadows have a way of spreading fear."
I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. The tavern patrons had dispersed, and the bartender returned to his post, though he kept glancing nervously at the back room.
I decided to return to Mrs. Whitaker's bed and breakfast. It was getting late, and I needed to organize my thoughts. As I walked back through the fog-shrouded streets, the oppressive silence of the town pressed down on me. Harrow Hill felt like a place out of time, trapped in its dark history.
When I reached the bed-and-breakfast, Mrs. Whitaker was waiting for me. "I heard there was some commotion at the tavern," she said, her eyes filled with concern.
"Yes," I replied, exhaustion seeping into my voice. "A young man came in, claiming the shadows took his friend."
Mrs. Whitaker shook her head slowly. "It's starting again, then. Be careful, Rachel. Harrow Hill can be dangerous for those who pry too deeply."
"I don't have a choice," I said, more to myself than to her. "I need to find the truth."
She nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here."
I thanked her and headed up to my room. Once inside, I locked the door and sat at the small desk, pulling out my notebook. I began jotting down everything I had learned so far, from the town's history to the conversation with Dr. Crowley. As I wrote, the events of the day played over in my mind, and the young man's terrified face haunted me.
I needed to find Tommy. If the shadows had taken him, there had to be a way to get him back. But where to start? The town was filled with secrets, and I felt like I was only scratching the surface.
Just as I was about to close my notebook, a chill ran down my spine. I looked up, my eyes scanning the room. It felt colder, the shadows in the corners seemed to deepen. My heart pounded as I stood up, my gaze fixed on the darkened hallway beyond my door.
A faint whisper echoed through the room, a voice so soft it was almost imperceptible. "Rachel..."
I froze, my breath caught in my throat. "Who's there?" I called out, trying to keep my voice steady.
The whisper came again, closer this time. "Rachel... help us..."
My pulse raced as I moved towards the door, every instinct screaming at me to run. But I had to know. I had to see it.
I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The shadows seemed to writhe and pulse, as if alive. The whispering grew louder, more insistent. "Rachel... find us..."
I followed the voice down the hall, my fear growing with each step. It led me to a door at the end, one I hadn't noticed before. It was slightly ajar, and a faint light seeped through the crack.
I pushed the door open and gasped. The room beyond was filled with old furniture covered in dust and cobwebs. In the center stood a large, ornate mirror, its surface clouded and grimy. As I approached, the whispering stopped, replaced by an eerie silence.
I reached out, my fingers brushing the surface of the mirror. The glass was cold, unnaturally so. And then, to my horror, an image began to form. A face appeared, gaunt and hollow-eyed, staring back at me with a look of pure terror.
"Help us," the face mouthed, its eyes pleading.
I stumbled back, my heart pounding in my chest. The room seemed to close in around me, the shadows pressing in from all sides. I had to get out, had to escape this nightmare.
I turned and ran, not stopping until I was back in my room with the door firmly locked behind me. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what I had seen. The face in the mirror—was it Tommy? Or someone else claimed by the curse?
Sleep was impossible. I lay in bed, my mind whirling with questions and fear. The shadows seemed to whisper all around me, their voices a constant, haunting presence.
Morning couldn't come soon enough. When the first light of dawn finally pierced the darkness, I got up and prepared for the day. There was no turning back now. I had to find Tommy, and I had to uncover the truth about Harrow Hill.
I made my way downstairs, where Mrs. Whitaker was already bustling about, preparing breakfast. She looked up as I entered the dining room, concern etched on her face.
"Rough night?" she asked, setting a plate of eggs and toast before me.
"You could say that," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "I... saw something. In a mirror. A face. It was asking for help."
Mrs. Whitaker's expression grew somber. "The mirrors in this house are old. They've seen a lot. Sometimes, they reflect more than just our image."
I nodded, though her words did little to ease my fear. "I need to find Dr. Crowley. He might know what to do."
"Be careful, Rachel," she repeated, her voice almost a whisper.
I finished my breakfast quickly and headed out into the morning mist. The town felt different in the daylight, less oppressive but still heavy with an unseen presence. I made my way to Dr. Crowley's house, a quaint cottage near the edge of the woods.
He answered the door almost immediately as if he had been expecting me. "Rachel, come in," he said, stepping aside to let me pass.
I entered and followed him to a small study filled with books and old maps. "I saw something last night," I began, recounting the events in the hallway and the face in the mirror.
Dr. Crowley listened intently, his expression growing more serious with each detail. When I finished, he sat back in his chair, deep in thought.
"It sounds like you've encountered a manifestation of the curse," he said finally. "The mirrors are known to act as gateways, reflecting the souls of those claimed by the shadows."
"How do I find Tommy?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
Dr. Crowley sighed. "Finding him won't be easy. The shadows exist in a realm between our world and the next. You'll need to perform a ritual to open a portal, but it's dangerous. The last person who tried... didn't come back."
"I have to try," I insisted. "I can't just do nothing."
He nodded, though his eyes were filled with concern. "Very well. But we must prepare carefully. One wrong step, and you could be lost forever."
As we began to gather the necessary materials for the ritual, I couldn't help but wonder if I was in over my head. The shadows were closing in, and the line between the living and the dead was growing thinner with each passing moment.
But I had no choice. I had to find Tommy, and I had to uncover the secrets of Harrow Hill, no matter the cost.