Story 950: Specters of the Forgotten

The city ruins stretched in eerie silence, broken only by the distant howl of the wind. Draven led the group through the crumbling streets, past abandoned cars, half-buried corpses, and the occasional shuffling shadow in the distance. The night loomed overhead, the moon a hollow, bloodshot eye.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Elias muttered, flicking his lighter open and shut. “This place feels… wrong.”

Mira clutched the Cursed Book, her fingers tense. “It is. This city—” she hesitated, her voice almost a whisper, “—it’s not just abandoned. It’s haunted.”

A chill swept through them, as if something unseen had passed between them.

Zara tightened her grip on her knife. “Then let’s keep moving before we find out by what.”