The morning air smelled of pine resin and damp earth as Mara stepped off the rusted bus, her boots crunching on gravel. The town of Black Hollow lay sprawled below, its rooftops bleached by sun and time. She hadn’t returned in twelve years, not since the night her father’s truck slid off the bridge. Now, the sheriff’s call had pulled her back—a body found in the woods, a name she’d buried with the past.\n\nThe cabin creaked under her weight, its floorboards groaning like old bones. Mara ran a hand over the splintered table, remembering her mother’s hands there, kneading dough for bread. The scent of rye and smoke hung in the air, unchanged. She opened the cupboard, fingers brushing against jars of preserved peaches, their lids rusted shut. A knock at the door made her freeze.\n\n”You’re late,” said a voice she almost recognized. The man standing in the doorway was older than she remembered, his face lined by wind and whiskey. His name was Eli, the town’s only mechanic. He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his boots leaving dark smudges on the floor. “They found another one,” he said, his voice low. “Same as before.”\n\nMara’s pulse quickened. The first body had been found two weeks ago, a teenager missing for months. Now this—another corpse, same wounds, same lack of answers. The sheriff had called it a coincidence. Mara didn’t believe in coincidences.\n\nShe followed Eli to the edge of the woods, where the trees thickened into a wall of shadow. The body lay half-buried in leaves, its face obscured by dirt. Mara crouched, brushing away the debris. The lips were cracked, the eyes open but empty. A silver chain around the neck caught her eye—a charm shaped like a wolf’s head. She’d seen that same charm on her father’s keychain before he disappeared.\n\n”This isn’t random,” she said, standing. “Someone’s targeting people connected to the old mill.”\n\nEli frowned. “You think it’s the same person?”\n\n”I think it’s someone who knows what happened there.”\n\nThey walked in silence, the only sound the crunch of leaves underfoot. Mara’s mind raced through the memories—her father’s last call, the static on the line, his voice cutting off mid-sentence. She’d blamed the storm, but now… \n\n”You remember what they said about the mill?” Eli asked. “That it was cursed?”\n\n”It wasn’t a curse,” Mara said. “It was a cover-up.”\n\nThe mill had been abandoned for decades, its machines rusted, its workers gone. But rumors lingered—of secret experiments, of men who vanished without a trace. Mara’s father had been one of them, a foreman who’d started asking questions. \n\nAt the edge of the woods, they found the second body. This one was younger, a girl with braids and a red scarf. Mara knelt, her hands trembling as she lifted the scarf. Beneath it, a small tattoo—a wolf’s head, identical to the charm. \n\n”This is personal,” she whispered. “They’re sending a message.”\n\nEli’s jaw tightened. “Who would do this?”\n\nMara didn’t answer. She already knew. The town had its secrets, and some of them were buried deep. \n\nThat night, she searched the mill, her flashlight beam cutting through the dark. The air was thick with dust, the walls lined with rusted machinery. In a corner, she found a hidden door, its handle frozen in place. She pried it open with a crowbar, revealing a stairwell leading underground. \n\nThe steps were slick with moisture, the air colder as she descended. At the bottom, a long corridor stretched ahead, its walls lined with old files and photographs. Mara picked up a stack, her breath catching as she recognized faces—workers from the mill, some of them missing, others dead. \n\nA voice echoed behind her. “You shouldn’t be here.”\n\nShe turned, flashlight trembling in her hand. A man stood in the doorway, his face shadowed. “Who are you?”\n\n”Someone who’s been waiting for you,” he said. “Your father left something behind. And now you’re going to pay for it.”\n\nMara backed toward the stairs, her mind racing. The files, the charm, the bodies—they all pointed to one truth: her father hadn’t disappeared. He’d been silenced. And now, someone was finishing what they’d started.\n\nShe ran, the man’s footsteps pounding behind her. The corridor twisted, leading her deeper into the maze of machinery. A sudden crash—something fell from above, blocking the exit. Mara scrambled up a ladder, her fingers slipping on the rusted rungs. The man was close now, his breath ragged. \n\nAt the top, she found a door marked “Control Room.” Inside, a terminal flickered with static. She pressed a key into the slot, and the screen lit up with old footage—her father, speaking to a group of men in suits. “We can’t let anyone know,” he said. “The experiments… they’re too dangerous.”\n\nThe video cut to black. Mara’s hands shook as she turned off the terminal. The truth was clear now: her father had discovered something terrible, and someone had killed him to keep it hidden. \n\nShe climbed back down, the man’s voice shouting from below. The files were gone, but the message was still there—the wolf’s head, the bodies, the silence of the town. Mara knew what she had to do. She’d spent years running from the past, but this time, she’d face it. \n\nThe next morning, she stood at the edge of the woods, her backpack slung over her shoulder. The sheriff had called, demanding answers. She didn’t have any, not yet. But she had a plan. The files were safe, hidden in a lockbox beneath the cabin. And the man who’d followed her? He’d be waiting for her at the mill. \n\nMara took a deep breath, the scent of pine and earth filling her lungs. The story wasn’t over. Not yet.
