The phone rang at 3:42 AM.
I don't usually pick up calls that late, but something about the timing made me grab the receiver . Maybe it was silence of the night, or maybe it was just the kind of thing that felt like fate. "Detective Jackson", I said, my voice sounding too loud in the stillness of my apartment. I rubbed my eyes, not expecting anything serious. But on the other end, there was only heavy breathing. For a second, I thought the call was a prank, but then a quiet, panicked voice cut through the silence.
"Come to Greenfield. Now!"
Greenfield? I had never heard of it, and i was pretty sure it was not on my list of active cases. I glanced at the clock. Two hour drive. I wasn't sure if I should be angry or curious, but something about that voice made me tighten. It wasn't a normal request.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"Just get here. Its important." The voice whispered, almost pleading. "They'll bury everything. You need to see it for yourself. The door's open."
Before I could ask any more questions, the line went dead.
I sat there for a moment, the phone still pressed to my ear, trying to make sense of what had just happened. People don't usually call detectives for no reason. They don't call in the middle of the night unless something's wrong. And that voice-there was something about it that felt... desperate.
I tossed the phone back onto the table and grabbed my jacket. I wasn't sure what was waiting for me in Greenfield, but I had a bad feeling about it.
I hit the road within minutes. The drive was long; the kind that stretches on forever, li,e the night itself is trying to trap you in it's darkness. The headlights of my car barely cut through the darkness, the road winding and twisting in ways that made it feel like i was driving into nowhere. Every mile felt heavier than the last, and the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach didn't go away.
By the time I reached Greenfield, the sun was starting to rise, but the town felt frozen in time. The streets were empty, the buildings old and run-down. Nothing felt alive about this place, like everyone had just... vanished. There seemed more of brown masses than the lush Greenfield I'd expected.
I parked in front of a diner that looked like it hadn't been touched in decades. Theneon sign buzzed faintly, flickering I the early light, as if it was struggling to stay on. I got out of the car, the air cool and crisp, but there was something off about it. Like the whole time was holding its breath, waiting for something. When I opened the door to the Diner, the bell above it jingled, but the place was dead silent. Ther was no one inside--just an old man sitting at the counter, staring down at a cup of coffee. His face was gaunt, pale. His hands trembled as they grip the mug.
But what really made my skin crawl was the feeling that hit me the second I stepped inside: the heavy, suffocating silence. It felt like the world had forgotten this place. Or maybe it was the other way round.
I walked towards the man. He didn't look at me at first. I wasn't sure if he even noticed I was there. But them, as if he'd been waiting for me, he said in a low voice, "You're late."
"Sorry", I muttered, sitting down across from him. His eyes finally met mine--cold, empty, like someone who'd seen too much. "You called?"
He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "They'll bury everything. You won't find anything in Greenfield if you don't know where to look."
"Who are they?" I asked, feeling the tension building. "What happened here?"
"He leaned in, his voice bare,y above a whisper. "Caroline Donovan. She's gone. But she didn't just disappear. She was taken."
I didn't say anything anything. I was already starting to piece things together. It wasn't like any case I'd ever worked. There was no usual "missing person" vibe. This was something bigger.
"She was taken?" I repeated, my brow furrowing. "By who"
The man glanced over his shoulder, his eyes darting over his shoulder, his eyes darting nervously as though checking for so eone--or something. When he turned back to e, his voice was low and filled with dread. "I don't know who. I don'tknow what. But its not just her. This town,something's wrong. And if you don't figure it out soon, you'llbe swallowed up too."