The air tasted like iron by the time Elara reached the edge of the woods. Her boots crunched over frostbitten leaves, each step a reminder of the silence that clung to Larkspur like a shroud. The town’s gas lamps flickered…
The salt-kissed air stank of brine and decay as Elara pressed her palms against the rusted gate, its chains groaning like wounded beasts. The lighthouse loomed ahead, its skeletal silhouette etched against the bruised sky. She’d heard the stories—how the…
The salt-kissed air tasted of brine and secrets when Elara stepped off the rusted ferry, her boots crunching over gravel as the dock groaned beneath her. The lighthouse loomed beyond the town’s ragged edge, its white paint peeling like old…
The salt air tasted like iron as Mara climbed the lighthouse stairs, her boots echoing against the rusted metal. The storm had passed, but the wind still clawed at the tower, rattling the windows of the small cottage below. She…
The salt air bit sharp against Mia’s cheeks as she pulled her jacket tighter, the hem flapping like a wounded bird. The dock creaked beneath her boots, a sound so familiar it felt like a heartbeat. She’d spent every summer…
The first time Lila heard the voice, she was knee-deep in the tide, her toes curling against the cold grip of the ocean. The water clawed at her legs, a relentless rhythm that matched the pulse in her ears. She’d…
The air in Blackmoor tasted like rust and old secrets. Lila pressed her palm against the cold iron gate, feeling the tremor of the clock tower’s chime vibrate through her bones. It was midnight, and the town had gone quiet—too…
The air tasted like ozone and pine when Lila found the first body. She’d been following the trail for hours, her boots crunching through brittle leaves as the sun dipped low over the jagged peaks. The forest had always felt…
Mara’s boots crunched over frost-bitten gravel as she approached the iron gates of Blackvale Orphanage, the morning air sharp with the scent of pine and decay. The structure loomed ahead, its gothic spires clawing at a bruised sky, windows like…
The first time Lira saw the cracks, she thought they were shadows. But when the wind howled through the trees and the sky split open like a wound, she knew something was wrong. The air tasted of iron, and the…
The air tasted like iron by the time Mara reached the edge of the woods. She paused, her boots crunching over frost-bitten leaves, and glanced back at the town behind her—its crooked rooftops glowing faintly in the predawn dark. The…
Mira found the journal in her father’s study, buried beneath a pile of yellowed newspapers. The leather cover was cracked, its spine warped by time, but the brass clasp still held. She pried it open, fingers brushing dust from the…
Mara’s boots sank into the mud as she pushed through the thicket, the air thick with the tang of pine resin and damp earth. The note had been folded twice, its edges frayed, tucked beneath a rock at the edge…
Maya’s boots crunched over gravel as she stepped into the town square, the air thick with the scent of salt and decay. The harbor lay still, its surface a mirror to the bruised sky, and the wind carried the distant…
Mara stepped off the rusted ferry, her boots crunching on gravel as the salt-kissed wind tugged at her coat. The town of Black Hollow stretched before her, a cluster of weathered cottages clinging to the cliffs like barnacles. Ten years…