The journey to Black Hollow wasn't easy. The town wasn't on any GPS, and the roads became little more than dirt trails swallowed by dense forests. Trees leaned in like silent sentinels, their twisted branches scratching against his car as if trying to warn him away.
When he finally arrived, Black Hollow was less of a town and more of a scar on the earth. Crumbling buildings sagged under the weight of time, windows shattered like open mouths frozen mid-scream. The sky above felt wrong—gray, but not the kind of gray before a storm. It was lifeless, oppressive, like the sky itself had stopped breathing.
Peter set up camp in what remained of the town square. The air buzzed faintly, like static clinging to his skin. He dismissed it as nerves—until he turned on his digital recorder.
No wind. No voices. Just static.
Then, faintly beneath the static:
"Peter."Chapter One: The Forgotten Town
The journey to Black Hollow wasn't easy. The town wasn't on any GPS, and the roads became little more than dirt trails swallowed by dense forests. Trees leaned in like silent sentinels, their twisted branches scratching against his car as if trying to warn him away.
When he finally arrived, Black Hollow was less of a town and more of a scar on the earth. Crumbling buildings sagged under the weight of time, windows shattered like open mouths frozen mid-scream. The sky above felt wrong—gray, but not the kind of gray before a storm. It was lifeless, oppressive, like the sky itself had stopped breathing.
Peter set up camp in what remained of the town square. The air buzzed faintly, like static clinging to his skin. He dismissed it as nerves—until he turned on his digital recorder.
No wind. No voices. Just static.
Then, faintly beneath the static:
"Peter."