Chapter 1: Arrival in the TownAria Bennett stepped off the bus, her suitcase dragging behind her on the cobblestone The small town of Ravenwood was quiet, almost unnaturally so. The mist clung to the streetlamps, making the entire town appear as if it were trapped between reality and a dream. Aria had come to Ravenwood to work on her writing, to find inspiration in the old streets and forgotten stories of the town. But as she walked toward the inn where she would be staying, a shiver ran down her spine. Something felt… off.She shook the feeling away, blaming ...Read More

Chapter 2 – The Strange EncounterThe morning sun in Windale was nothing like the city Aria had left behind. of bursting through glass towers and painting the concrete gold, here it filtered softly through layers of mist and old oak trees. The light felt fragile, as though it had to fight its way through shadows that refused to leave.Aria wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck as she stepped out of the Crestwood Inn. The innkeeper had given her a polite nod that morning but no conversation. Even the clatter of breakfast plates had seemed hushed, like everything in ...Read More

Chapter 3 – Whisper in the AlleyThe air in Windale thickened after sunset, as though the town held its the moment the last trace of daylight slipped away. Aria hadn’t planned to stay out late, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. After leaving the bookstore earlier that day, she had wandered from street to street, sketching notes about the town—its architecture, its silence, its way of staring at her without eyes.Now, as she clutched her notebook and hurried through the dimly lit streets, the lamps above her flickered like candle flames about to die. She wasn’t ...Read More

Midnight ChaseThe old clock in the hallway of the Crestwood Inn struck midnight, its chime echoing like a warning across the silence of the town. Aria lay awake in her narrow bed, staring at the ceiling beams as the sound faded. Sleep refused to come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the cloaked figure in the alley, standing motionless in the fog, its unseen gaze piercing through the mist straight into her bones.Her diary lay open beside her, ink smudged where her trembling hand had written the words: “She listens.”She turned over, pulling the blanket tighter around ...Read More