Book I: The Disappearence of Everbrook

"Ah, a neighborhood. What could be more comforting, more familiar?" Master Renton Howling steps from the shadows, his fingers trailing delicately along the spines of the dusty books behind him. His smile is thin, like a razor-sharp edge waiting to cut. "Rows of houses, manicured lawns, and friendly neighbors. But beware, dear reader, for beneath that peaceful veneer lurks something far more sinister. What happens when a neighborhood starts to vanish, one house at a time, taking with it not only walls and windows, but lives, memories... existence itself?"

His eyes gleam as he leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This is the tale of a family who moved into such a place. At first, it seemed like the perfect suburban paradise. But Everbrook is not like other neighborhoods. Here, houses disappear in the night, and those who lived within them are erased. Gone, as though they never existed."

Renton straightens, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "But don't take my word for it. Let's step inside Everbrook together. The clock is ticking, and soon... it will be 2:00 AM."

The candle beside him flickers, casting long shadows that stretch and twist, and just as quickly, darkness swallows him.

The Disappearance of Everbrook

The Jenkins family's car rolled to a stop in front of their new home in Everbrook , the quiet cul-de-sac gleaming under the bright afternoon sun. Tom , Sarah , and their young daughter Lily had finally arrived at their dream house, a fresh start in what seemed to be the perfect suburban neighborhood.

Tom turned off the engine and looked over at Sarah with a grin. "Welcome to paradise," he said, gesturing at the two-story home with its yellow siding and meticulously trimmed lawn.

Lily bounced excitedly in the backseat. "Do I get my own room?" she asked, already reaching for the door handle.

"Of course," Sarah said, smiling as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked around the cul-de-sac, noticing how eerily quiet everything was. The houses were all identical, neatly painted, with lush green lawns, but there was an odd stillness in the air. No children playing, no neighbors out for walks. Just silence.

As they began unloading boxes from the moving truck, a woman from across the street approached them. Her silver hair was tied in a tight bun, and she clutched a plate of cookies in her hands, her eyes scanning the new family with an intensity that made Sarah uncomfortable.

"Welcome to Everbrook," the woman said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm Mrs. Bellamy . I live just over there." She gestured toward the house across the street, her voice soft and measured.

"Thank you," Sarah replied, wiping her hands on her jeans before reaching for the cookies. "It's great to finally be here."

Mrs. Bellamy's smile faltered slightly as she glanced at Lily. Her eyes lingered on the little girl before she looked back at Sarah and Tom. "It's a quiet place. You'll like it here. Just... one thing."

Tom raised an eyebrow, glancing at Sarah. "What's that?"

Mrs. Bellamy leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Lock your doors at night. And whatever you do, don't go outside after 2:00 AM. Ever."

The words hung in the air, thick and heavy. Before Tom or Sarah could respond, Mrs. Bellamy handed Sarah the cookies and gave them a curt nod. "Take care now," she said, turning quickly and walking back across the street, her movements sharp and hurried.

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. "Every neighborhood has one, right? The nosy neighbor with strange advice."

But Sarah wasn't so sure. There had been something in Mrs. Bellamy's voice, a note of fear. She watched the older woman disappear into her house, a strange unease settling in the pit of her stomach.

After a long day of unpacking, the Jenkins family finally settled into their new home. By nightfall, the house was quiet, with only a few boxes left to unpack. Sarah and Tom sat on the couch, exhausted but happy. Lily had already gone to bed, and the silence of the neighborhood outside was almost comforting.

Until it wasn't.

At 2:00 AM , Tom stirred, a strange sensation pulling him from sleep. He blinked in the darkness, feeling a low vibration in the air. It wasn't loud, more like a hum, barely audible, but it felt wrong. Like the air had suddenly thickened, pressing down on him.

He rolled over, squinting at the clock. 2:00 AM on the dot.

Careful not to wake Sarah, Tom slipped out of bed and padded softly toward the window. He pulled the curtain aside and peered out into the night.

The street was empty, the houses still and quiet under the dim glow of the streetlights. But something was off. The house directly across the street, the one he had seen earlier in the day, was gone.

Tom blinked, rubbing his eyes. No, that couldn't be right. He could have sworn there had been a house there. Hadn't Mrs. Bellamy pointed it out when she'd spoken to them? He leaned closer to the window, trying to make sense of it.

There was nothing but an empty lot. No debris. No sign that a house had ever stood there. It was as though it had been wiped away, erased.

He turned back to the bed, his heart racing. "Sarah," he whispered, nudging her gently. "Wake up. You've got to see this."

Sarah groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Tom pointed to the window. "There was a house across the street earlier today, right?"

Sarah squinted through the glass. Her brow furrowed. "Yeah... I think so. Why?"

Tom swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "It's gone."

Sarah stared out at the empty lot, her pulse quickening. "What do you mean, it's gone? How can a house just disappear?"

"I don't know," Tom muttered. "But it was there this afternoon. I'm sure of it."

They stood in silence for a moment, both of them trying to make sense of what they were seeing. But there was no explanation. The house was simply... gone.

The next morning, Tom and Sarah couldn't shake the eerie feeling from the night before. Over breakfast, they debated whether or not they had imagined it. Maybe they were just tired. Maybe there had never been a house there at all.

But the nagging feeling in the back of their minds wouldn't go away.

After breakfast, they took Lily for a walk around the neighborhood, hoping the fresh air would clear their heads. As they passed the empty lot where the house had been, they saw one of their neighbors, Mrs. Adler , pruning her rose bushes in front of her house.

"Morning!" Tom called out, trying to sound casual despite the growing unease gnawing at him.

Mrs. Adler looked up and smiled warmly. "Good morning! How are you settling in?"

"We're doing fine, thanks," Sarah replied. "But we were wondering... wasn't there a house here?" She pointed to the empty lot, her voice hesitant.

Mrs. Adler frowned, her pruning shears pausing mid-air. "No, I don't think so. There's never been a house there. Just an empty lot. Why do you ask?"

Sarah exchanged a glance with Tom, her heart sinking. "We could have sworn we saw one yesterday."

Mrs. Adler laughed lightly, though there was something uneasy in her eyes. "You're probably just tired from the move. It's easy to get things mixed up when you're overwhelmed."

Tom forced a smile. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Thanks."

As they walked away, Sarah lowered her voice. "She's lying."

Tom nodded grimly. "I know. There was definitely a house there."

They continued down the street, their once-perfect neighborhood now casting long, sinister shadows over their thoughts. Something was wrong in Everbrook. Very wrong.

The unease lingered in the Jenkins household long after their conversation with Mrs. Adler. That night, they put Lily to bed earlier than usual, hoping a good night's rest would calm their frayed nerves. But even as they tucked her in, Sarah couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

The clock read 1:50 AM when Sarah jolted awake, her heart racing. She wasn't sure what had stirred her from sleep, but something felt off. She lay still, listening to the oppressive silence that filled the house. Tom was fast asleep beside her, his deep breathing the only sound in the room.

And then she heard it.

A low, almost imperceptible hum, like the distant rumbling of machinery, vibrating through the walls. Sarah sat up, her pulse quickening. The air felt thick, heavier than it should. She glanced at the clock.

1:58 AM.

For a moment, she debated whether or not to wake Tom. But before she could make up her mind, the hum grew louder, more distinct. Her breath caught in her throat as the vibration intensified, making the floor beneath the bed tremble ever so slightly.

1:59 AM.

She couldn't just lie there. Throwing off the blankets, she slipped out of bed and crept toward the window, her bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. She pulled the curtain aside and peered outside.

The street was bathed in the pale glow of the streetlights. Everything looked just as it had earlier in the day, except for the house directly across from them. The house that Mrs. Adler had insisted had never existed.

It was there now.

Sarah's heart pounded in her chest. The house, neatly painted with white shutters and a porch swing, stood as solid as the day was long. But something about it looked... wrong. As she stared at it, the house began to flicker, like an image on a screen that was slowly glitching out of existence.

And then, at 2:00 AM on the dot, the house vanished.

No sound. No crumbling of walls. It just blinked out of existence, leaving nothing but an empty lot.

Sarah stumbled back from the window, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream. Her heart raced, panic tightening her chest. She had seen it with her own eyes. The house had been there, and then it was gone.

"Tom," she whispered hoarsely, rushing to his side and shaking him awake. "Tom, wake up. You need to see this."

Tom groaned, rubbing his eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Sarah pointed to the window, her voice shaking. "Another house... it was there, and now it's gone. Just like last night."

Tom blinked, his sleep-addled mind struggling to process what she was saying. "What are you talking about?"

Sarah pulled him toward the window. "Look!"

Tom stared out into the street. Sure enough, the house was gone, leaving nothing but the same eerie, empty lot. The same lot that had once held a home, and now, once again, it was as if it had never existed.

The next day, Sarah couldn't focus on anything but the strange occurrences in Everbrook. After dropping Lily off at school, she decided to visit the local library, determined to figure out what was going on in this town. There had to be some explanation, something that could make sense of the disappearing houses.

The Everbrook Public Library was small and old, with dusty shelves and an air of neglect. The librarian, a frail woman with wire-rimmed glasses, barely glanced up as Sarah entered. Sarah made her way to the back of the library, where the town's historical archives were kept.

The records were sparse, barely organized, and filled with gaps. As Sarah thumbed through the old, yellowed papers, she found almost nothing about the development of Everbrook. There were no clear records of when the houses were built, no architectural plans, nothing that might suggest when or why homes had been added, or disappeared.

Frustrated, she was about to give up when an old, folded newspaper clipping fell out from between the pages of a forgotten ledger. The headline caught her eye:

"Ancient Rituals Performed on Everbrook Land: Secrets of the Forgotten Cult."

Her breath hitched in her throat as she read on. The article was decades old, detailing rumors that the land Everbrook was built on had once belonged to a secretive cult. The cult had performed rituals to "cleanse" the land, offering sacrifices to keep what they called "the impure" away. It was said that every so often, when the land became too tainted, the ritual would be performed again, taking not only lives, but the memories of those lives as well.

The final lines of the article sent a chill down Sarah's spine: "It is said that houses disappear in the dead of night, swallowed whole by the land itself. Those who vanish are erased, leaving behind nothing, no memory, no trace, no existence."

Her hands trembled as she placed the article back in the book. Could this be what was happening to Everbrook? Were the houses disappearing as part of some dark ritual? And if so, how long before their own house, before they, were next?

Sarah grabbed her phone and called Tom. "Tom, you need to come to the library right now. I think I found something... something about the land. It's bad. It's really bad."

Later that evening, Sarah and Tom sat in their living room, the unease from the library weighing heavily on their minds. Sarah had told Tom everything, about the article, the cult, the disappearances, and though Tom was still skeptical, he couldn't deny that something strange was happening in Everbrook.

"What are we supposed to do?" Tom asked, pacing the floor. "Just leave? Abandon the house?"

"We might have to," Sarah replied, her voice strained. "If what I found is true, we can't stay here. We could be next."

Before Tom could respond, there was a sudden knock at the door. Both of them froze, exchanging a glance. The knock came again, louder this time.

Cautiously, Tom went to the door and opened it a crack. Standing on the porch, looking more frazzled and panicked than ever, was Mrs. Bellamy .

"You need to leave," she said urgently, her eyes wide with fear. "I told you before, don't stay out after 2:00 AM. But now, it's worse. It's too late. You've been marked."

"Marked?" Sarah stepped forward, her heart racing. "What are you talking about?"

Mrs. Bellamy glanced nervously up and down the street, as if she expected someone, or something, to be watching. "Once you see the disappearances, the town has you. The land knows. You won't be able to escape. The only thing you can do now is run. You have to leave before midnight."

Tom shook his head. "Wait, what? How do you know all of this?"

Mrs. Bellamy's face paled. "Because I've seen it happen before. Families disappear. Houses vanish. And everyone forgets. If you don't leave tonight... you'll vanish too."

Sarah felt a wave of dread wash over her. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Mrs. Bellamy's voice trembled. "I tried to warn you. But now... it's too late."

Before they could ask her anything more, Mrs. Bellamy turned and hurried back across the street, her figure disappearing into the darkness.

Tom closed the door, his face ashen. "What do we do, Sarah? Do we believe her?"

Sarah nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "We have to. We can't stay here."

The Jenkins family was in full panic mode. Tom and Sarah packed their belongings as quickly as they could, throwing essentials into duffel bags and backpacks. The clock on the wall ticked ominously, the time inching closer to midnight .

"Mommy, why are we leaving?" Lily asked, clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly as Sarah zipped up her bag.

Sarah knelt down and gently stroked Lily's hair. "We're going on a trip, sweetheart. We just have to leave right away, okay?"

Lily nodded, but her wide eyes betrayed the fear she could sense from her parents. Sarah gave her a quick hug and hurried her to the front door, where Tom was already waiting with their bags.

"We need to go now," Tom said, his voice tight with urgency. "If what Mrs. Bellamy said is true, we don't have much time."

They rushed to the driveway, where their car sat waiting under the dim glow of the streetlights. Tom tossed the bags into the trunk and jumped into the driver's seat, fumbling with the keys in his shaking hands.

He turned the ignition.

The car wouldn't start.

Tom cursed under his breath and tried again, but the engine sputtered and died.

"Tom, what's happening?" Sarah asked, her voice filled with panic as she glanced nervously at the clock on the dashboard. 11:45 PM.

"I don't know," Tom replied, frantically trying to start the car again. "It was working fine earlier!"

They couldn't afford to waste any more time. The car was dead, and they needed to find another way out.

"We'll go on foot," Sarah said, grabbing Lily's hand. "There has to be a way out of the neighborhood."

Tom nodded, grabbing a flashlight from the glove compartment. "Let's head toward the edge of town. There's got to be a way to escape."

With Lily between them, they began running down the street, their breaths coming in short, panicked bursts. The neighborhood was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum that seemed to linger in the air, growing louder with each passing moment.

As they ran, they noticed something strange. The houses around them, ones they had seen earlier in the day, were flickering. Some vanished entirely, leaving nothing but empty lots behind.

The ground beneath their feet felt unstable, as if the very fabric of the neighborhood was beginning to unravel.

The Jenkins family raced toward the outskirts of Everbrook, the hum growing louder in their ears, almost deafening. The air had become thick, oppressive, as though the town itself was closing in on them.

11:55 PM.

Just ahead, they saw what looked like an alley, a narrow passageway that led to the edge of the neighborhood. It was the only way out.

Tom shone the flashlight ahead, and they ran toward the alley. But as they approached, the street behind them began to change. Houses flickered and blinked out of existence, one by one, swallowed by the fog that rolled in from the horizon.

Sarah looked back, her heart pounding. "Tom, it's happening! The town is disappearing!"

Tom grabbed her hand, his grip tight. "We're almost there. Just a little farther!"

They reached the alley, their breaths ragged and their legs aching. The fog was thick now, swirling around them like a living thing. Tom led them through the narrow passage, the walls closing in on either side as they moved toward the street beyond.

But as they emerged from the alley, they were met with a horrifying sight.

The houses in front of them had vanished. The streets twisted and warped, leading nowhere. The fog crept closer, swirling around them, and the hum became a low roar, vibrating through the ground.

Sarah clutched Lily tightly, her eyes wide with terror. "We're trapped."

"No," Tom said, his voice shaking. "There's got to be a way out. There has to be."

But as the clock struck 12:00 AM , the ground beneath them began to tremble. The world around them seemed to flicker, as though they were caught in the middle of some impossible dream.

And then, the street vanished.

When the world around them blinked back into focus, Tom, Sarah, and Lily found themselves standing on a deserted highway. The road stretched on for miles in either direction, but Everbrook was nowhere in sight. The houses, the streetlights, the manicured lawns, it had all disappeared.

Tom turned in a slow circle, his breath coming in short gasps. "Where... where are we?"

Sarah, clutching Lily close to her chest, shook her head. "I don't know. But we're not in Everbrook anymore."

The oppressive fog was gone, the air was clear, and the hum had faded into silence. They stood on the edge of what looked like an ordinary stretch of road, but the town they had once called home had vanished entirely.

Tom pulled out his phone and dialed for help, but the call didn't go through. No signal.

"What do we do now?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling.

Tom stared down the highway, his face pale. "I don't know. But we're safe. We made it out."

But as the words left his mouth, a faint sound drifted through the air, the low hum they had heard so many times before. It was distant, but unmistakable.

Sarah's eyes widened in horror. "No..."

The sound grew louder, and they turned to see a thick mist creeping over the horizon, rolling toward them like a tidal wave. The hum pulsed through the air, vibrating through the ground beneath their feet.

Tom's heart sank. "We have to keep moving. It's not over."

They grabbed their bags and began walking down the highway, the mist following close behind.

Epilogue

Master Renton Howling steps out of the shadows, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Ah, Everbrook. A neighborhood that doesn't just erase homes, but entire lives. A town that wipes away your very existence."

He smiles, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "You see, dear reader, some places have secrets too dark to be buried. And in Everbrook, the land itself hungers for those who dare to linger too long. The Jenkins family thought they had escaped, but as you've just seen... the mist follows."

Renton tilts his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Perhaps one day, you'll find yourself in such a place. A town with no name, where houses vanish and no one remembers. And if you do, remember: the clock is always ticking. Midnight will come for you."

The candle flickers, casting long, dancing shadows as Master Renton steps back into the darkness.

"And when it does," his voice echoes from the shadows, "you'd best be gone before the fog rolls in."

The flame snuffs out, plunging the room into total darkness.

The End