Chapter 2 A Whisper in the Dark

The image of the cut symbol and the shadow that passed by the oak tree would not let me be. It stayed in my mind, like some obstinate stain that grew darker with each passing night.

By the third night after the occurrence in the forest, the whispers started.

It was faint at first, a barely audible sound that could have been the wind. But as the hours dragged on, the whispers grew clearer, like someone murmuring just beyond the walls of my house.

"Who's there?" I called out into the stillness, my voice trembling. I stared out the window, but the street outside was empty, bathed in the pale glow of the full moon. I locked myself in my room and sat in bed, awake, praying that whatever came for my family wouldn't come for me too.

When morning came, the whispers stopped, leaving only an uneasy silence when I woke up. Hoping to distract myself, I decided to explore the town. I never got the chance to after my family disappeared. Silver Hollow seemed like any ordinary town: cobblestone streets, a bustling market square, and friendly (if not overly inquisitive) neighbors. Yet beneath the surface, something felt... off.

"Looking for anything in particular?" asked a cheerful woman at the local bakery as I browsed the shelves.

"No, just getting to know the town," I replied, offering a polite smile.

"Well, if you want to know about Silver Hollow, old Mrs. Fenwick at the library is your best bet. She knows more about this place than anyone."

Intrigued, I made my way to the town library. It was an imposing building of dark stone, with ivy creeping up its sides. Inside, the air smelled of dust and parchment, and rows of shelves stretched endlessly into shadowy corners.

Mrs. Fenwick, a hunched woman with piercing blue eyes, greeted with a sharp glance. "You're not from around here," she said, her voice firm but not unkind.

"Not exactly, I've been here for two years now, I moved in with my family. We own the house at the edge of town" I admitted. "I was hoping to learn more about the town's history."

"Ohh, you're the girl whose family disappeared that night when the lights went out. The 'Hart' family. A lot of people disappeared that night too." She whimpered. "Poor souls."

Mrs. Fenwick eyed me carefully before leading me to a far corner of the library. "There's plenty of history here, but not all of it is pleasant," she said, pulling a leather-bound journal from a locked cabinet. "This belonged to one of the founders of Silver Hollow. He wrote about... peculiar things. Most people don't like to talk about it."

The journal was old and fragile, its pages yellowed with age. As I flipped through the entries, I found cryptic notes about "the Silver Moon" and references to rituals held in the woods. One passage, in particular, caught my eye:

"The moon reveals what the day conceals. Beneath its silver light lies truth, but only for those willing to see. The grove is the key."

Before I could ask Mrs. Fenwick about the passage, the library door slammed shut, and a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, extinguishing the flickering lamps. The whispers returned, louder this time, filling the darkened library with their haunting cadence.

Mrs. Fenwick clutched her shawl tightly. "You've stirred something," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Be careful where your curiosity takes you."

When the gusts died away and the lamps were relit, I left the library with the journal tucked under my arm and a growing sense of unease. The whispers had followed me here, and as I walked home that evening, I felt it again, that stifling weight of unseen eyes watching from the shadows, the weight of Mrs. Fenwick's warning heavy on my mind.

I heard footsteps echoing behind while walking back home, the streets were empty, but the sound persisted, I quickened my pace, my heart pounding so loud that I bumped into someone as they rounded the corner.

"Whoa, easy there!" a voice said, steady and warm. He caught me before I could hit the ground.

Looking up, I met the gaze of a young man. His dark hair fell messily over his brow, and his piercing amber eyes held a mix of concern and curiosity. He was taller than I remembered, with an air of quiet strength.

"You're Evelyn, right?" He said, his lips curving into a half smile. "You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I... I thought someone was following me." I stammered, glancing over my shoulder. "But there's no one."

His expression darkened slightly. "The woods can play tricks on people." he said. "Especially under the moonlight."

Before I could respond, he reached out, brushing a stray leaf from my coat. His hand lingered for just a moment, warm and steady, before he stepped back. "I don't think you remember me; I used to work with your father before he disappeared. I'm Rowan. And I'm really sorry about what happened to your family, it must be so lonely living without them."

"Thank you. And I'm sorry for bumping into you like that." I replied, putting a lock of hair behind my ear.

" Be careful tonight." he added, his voice low." Silver Hollow has its secrets, and not all of them are friendly."

That night, sleep didn't come easily. When it finally did, I dreamt of the oak tree, its carved symbols glowing faintly in the moonlight. Around it, shadows moved. Tall figures with glowing eyes that seemed to watch me with an unnatural intensity.

The dream shifted, and I was running through the woods, branches clawed at my skin. The whispers followed, growing louder until they became a deafening howl. A pair of glowing eyes pierced through the darkness. They were Rowan's eyes, but they weren't human anymore.

I woke in a cold sweat, the whispers still ringing in my ears, faint but insistent. The journal sat on the bedside table, its cryptic words echoing in my mind:

"The grove is the key."