The first time Jessa found the key, it was buried in the dirt behind the old mill, rusted and cold to the touch. She dug it out with her fingers, nails breaking under the weight of the soil, and held it up to the pale afternoon light. It was small, no bigger than a fingernail, its teeth jagged and uneven. The air smelled like damp earth and decay, the kind of scent that clung to your skin long after you left. She didn’t know why she’d gone there—maybe it was the way the wind howled through the broken windows of the mill, or the way the trees around it seemed to lean inward, as if listening. But the key felt right, like it had been waiting for her.
The town of Blackvale had always been quiet, but lately, it felt heavier, as if the air itself was thick with something unspoken. Jessa’s brother, Eli, had vanished three months ago, his room left exactly as he’d left it—clothes folded on the chair, a half-finished sketch of a forest on the desk. The police had given up, their faces tight with pity. But Jessa couldn’t let go. She’d spent every night since scouring the town, asking questions no one wanted to answer. The key was the first real clue she’d found.
She took it home, hidden in the palm of her hand, and slipped it into her jacket pocket. That night, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to the creak of the old house. The key felt warm against her skin, like it was alive. She didn’t sleep at all.
The next morning, she went to the mill again. This time, she brought a flashlight and a notebook. The building was abandoned, its windows shattered, the floorboards warped and splintered. She pushed open the door, and the smell hit her again—mold and something metallic, like blood. She stepped inside, the beam of her flashlight cutting through the gloom. The floor creaked under her weight, and she froze. Something was here. Not just the dust and shadows. A presence.
She moved carefully, her breath shallow. The key felt heavier now, as if it knew where it needed to go. She found a door at the back of the mill, its hinges rusted but still intact. With a grunt, she pushed it open. Behind it was a narrow staircase, descending into darkness. The air was colder here, and the walls were lined with something—old photographs, their edges curled and yellowed. Faces stared back at her, some familiar, others not. She didn’t recognize any of them.
She climbed down, the stairs creaking with each step. At the bottom, she found a room. It was small, with a single window high up on the wall. The floor was covered in dust, but there were fresh footprints leading to a corner. A table sat in the middle, its surface covered in scribbles—names, dates, diagrams of the town. One of them was Eli’s name, scrawled in shaky letters. Jessa’s hands trembled as she touched it.
A sound behind her. She spun around, flashlight trembling. Nothing. Just the silence, thick and heavy. She heard her own heartbeat, loud in her ears. Then she saw it—a door at the far end of the room, half-hidden by a tattered curtain. The key fit perfectly into the lock. She turned it slowly, and the door swung open with a groan.
Inside was a small chamber, bare except for a single chair and a table. On the table was a journal. Jessa picked it up, her fingers brushing the worn leather cover. The pages were filled with entries, some in neat script, others in frantic scrawl. She read until her eyes burned, piecing together fragments of a story that made her stomach twist. The town had a history—experiments, disappearances, a secret buried deep beneath the earth. And Eli had been part of it.
She didn’t know how long she’d been there when she heard the footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. She slammed the journal shut and backed toward the door. The sound stopped. Then a voice, low and cold. “You shouldn’t be here.” She turned, heart pounding, and saw a figure in the doorway. They were tall, their face hidden beneath a hood. But there was something familiar about them, something that made her breath catch.
“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her throat.
The figure didn’t answer. They just stepped forward, and Jessa ran.
She didn’t stop until she was back at the mill, the key still clutched in her hand. Her legs shook as she stumbled outside, the sun glaring down like it didn’t care about the secrets buried beneath the town. She had to find Eli. She had to know the truth. But as she looked around, she realized something—she wasn’t alone. Someone was watching her, from the shadows of the trees, their presence a cold weight against her skin.
The next day, she met Kieran. He was the only one who didn’t look away when she asked about Eli. “You think he’s still alive?” he asked, his voice quiet. She nodded, tears burning her eyes. He didn’t say anything else, just handed her a map of the town, marked with symbols she didn’t recognize. “If you’re going to find him, you’ll need this.”
They started searching together, combing through the town for any sign of Eli. They found more clues—old letters, hidden rooms, whispers in the wind. But with each discovery, the danger grew. The town had its own rules, and those who dug too deep often disappeared. Jessa knew she was running out of time.
One night, they followed a trail of footprints to the edge of the forest. The trees were taller here, their branches twisting like gnarled fingers. Kieran hesitated. “This isn’t safe,” he said. But Jessa couldn’t stop. She had to know.
They found the cave. It was hidden behind a curtain of vines, its entrance dark and yawning. Inside, the air was colder, thick with the scent of moss and something else—something metallic. They moved carefully, their flashlights cutting through the darkness. Then they heard it—a low, guttural sound, like something was trapped inside.
They found Eli. Or what was left of him. His body was twisted, his face pale and lifeless. Jessa dropped to her knees, tears blurring her vision. Kieran grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “We have to go,” he said, his voice tight with fear. But Jessa couldn’t move. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Eli’s face, and felt the coldness of his skin.
They didn’t make it out in time. The sound came again, louder this time, and the cave trembled. Something was coming. Jessa and Kieran ran, their feet pounding against the stone as the ground shook beneath them. The entrance was blocked, a cascade of rocks crushing their escape. They were trapped.
In the darkness, Jessa heard a voice—Eli’s voice, faint and distant. “Don’t let them take you,” he whispered. She didn’t know if it was real or her imagination, but it gave her strength. She reached into her pocket, feeling the key. It was still there, warm and steady.
They didn’t know how long they stayed in the cave, but eventually, the tremors stopped. The rocks had shifted, creating a narrow passage. They crawled through, emerging into the cold night air. The town was quiet, as if holding its breath. Jessa looked around, her heart pounding. She had found Eli, but at what cost?
The next day, she confronted the town’s leader, a man named Harlan. “What happened to my brother?” she demanded. He didn’t answer, just stared at her with hollow eyes. She showed him the journal, the evidence of the experiments, the truth buried beneath the town. He didn’t flinch.
“You don’t understand,” he said finally. “It’s not about Eli. It’s about survival.”
Jessa didn’t care. She had the truth, and she was going to share it. But as she stepped outside, she felt the weight of the town on her shoulders, the knowledge that some secrets were never meant to be uncovered.
The Hollowing wasn’t over. Not yet.
