Maya followed Ethan through the sprawling Ashgrove University campus, her hands stuffed deep into her coat pockets. The fog clung stubbornly to the streets, making the familiar world feel distant and surreal.
"Are you sure your professor friend is even in?" Maya asked as they climbed the stairs to the humanities building.
Ethan gave her a sidelong glance. "Dr. Keller practically lives in his office. If anyone can decipher those symbols, it's him."
The corridors inside were quiet, the kind of quiet that made Maya's footsteps sound louder than they were. Ethan stopped in front of a door with a worn brass nameplate: Dr. Richard Keller, Department of Ancient Languages and Folklore.
Ethan knocked twice.
A muffled voice called, "Come in!"
Inside, the office was exactly what Maya imagined: bookshelves crammed with ancient tomes, papers stacked precariously on every available surface, and the faint smell of coffee and dust.
Dr. Keller was a wiry man in his sixties, with silver hair that stuck out in every direction and thick glasses perched on his nose. He looked up from a book with an expression of mild irritation that softened when he saw Ethan.
"Ah, Mr. Cole," Keller said, standing to shake Ethan's hand. "What brings you here? And who's this?"
"This is Maya Hart," Ethan said. "We need your help."
Keller's sharp gaze flicked to Maya, then to the scarf Ethan held. His brows furrowed.
"May I?" Keller asked, gesturing to the scarf.
Ethan handed it over without a word. Keller's fingers moved over the fabric with surprising delicacy, his eyes narrowing as he studied the faint symbols along the hem.
"These are... unusual," Keller murmured. "Definitely pre-modern. Possibly pre-Christian. Where did you find this?"
Maya hesitated. "Near the woods," she said finally. "It belongs to a girl who's gone missing."
Keller's expression darkened. He pulled a magnifying glass from his desk and leaned closer to the scarf. After a moment, he straightened, looking grim.
"These symbols," he said, "are protective markings. They were often used in rituals meant to ward off malevolent entities."
Maya felt a chill creep up her spine. "Entities? Like... ghosts?"
Keller gave her a measured look. "Not exactly. In folklore, these symbols are associated with something older, something... less human."
"That's vague," Maya said, though her voice was unsteady.
"It's intentionally vague," Keller said. "The people who used these markings feared whatever they were protecting against so deeply that they avoided naming it. As if speaking its name would invite it closer."
Ethan exchanged a glance with Maya. "What about the specific pattern? Have you seen it before?"
Keller hesitated, then moved to a shelf and pulled down a weathered book. He flipped through the pages until he found an illustration of a similar symbol, though not identical.
"This," he said, pointing to the image, "is part of a set of protective sigils from an old Ashgrove legend. According to the stories, these were used to keep the 'silent watcher' at bay."
"The silent watcher?" Maya repeated.
Keller nodded. "A figure that appears in local lore, always tied to disappearances and strange occurrences in the woods. The stories date back to the town's founding."
"That's just folklore, though, right?" Maya asked, trying to keep her tone casual.
"Folklore is often rooted in truth," Keller said, closing the book with a thud. "I suggest you take this seriously."
Before Maya could respond, Ethan's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and frowned.
"It's from Lauren Hale," he said.
"The detective?" Maya asked, surprised.
"She wants to meet," Ethan said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Says she has information we need."
"Do you trust her?" Maya asked.
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Not even a little. But we don't have many allies."
Later That Evening
Lauren Hale's office was small and cluttered, with case files stacked on the desk and a bulletin board covered in maps and photographs. The detective looked as tired as her surroundings, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and faint circles under her eyes.
"You're poking your noses where they don't belong," Lauren said as soon as they entered.
"Nice to see you too," Ethan said dryly.
Lauren glared at him, then sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Look, I don't have time for games. Lily Monroe's disappearance isn't the first, and it won't be the last if we don't act fast."
Maya stepped forward. "What do you mean, 'isn't the first'?"
Lauren pulled a folder from the stack on her desk and handed it to Maya. Inside were photos and reports of three other missing persons, all from the last two years.
"All of them went missing near the woods," Lauren said. "And all of them left behind something with strange symbols—just like that scarf you're holding."
Maya's stomach churned as she flipped through the files. "Why hasn't this been made public?"
"Because it doesn't make sense," Lauren said bluntly. "The moment I start talking about symbols and folklore, I lose credibility. But I'm telling you, there's a pattern here. Something is taking these people, and it's connected to those woods."
Ethan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "If you know all this, why tell us? Why not handle it yourself?"
Lauren hesitated, then admitted, "Because I'm in over my head. And because... I think you might know more than I do."
Before anyone could respond, the lights flickered. For a moment, the room was plunged into near-darkness. Maya's pulse quickened as she glanced at the window, where the fog seemed thicker than ever, pressing against the glass like a living thing.
The lights stabilized, but the unease lingered. Lauren stood abruptly. "That's all I can tell you for now. Just... be careful."
Maya and Ethan exchanged a look before leaving the office. Outside, the fog wrapped around them like a shroud, muting the world.
As they walked, Maya couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.