Chapter 368

The night was as still as it was cold. The moon hung heavy in the sky, its pale light casting long shadows across the town of Belvoir. The streets, once filled with the sound of footsteps and chatter, were now eerily silent.

Even the dogs seemed to know something was wrong. Their barking had ceased a week ago, their absence an unsettling reminder of the town's slow descent into isolation.

Evelyn felt it the worst. She'd been in Belvoir longer than most, long enough to witness its transformation.

The once-bustling market square was now abandoned. The tavern, which had always been the heart of the community, sat in darkness, its windows shut tight as if hiding from the outside world. The town felt... suffocated.

She walked down the street with quick steps, her breath visible in the air. She should've gone back inside hours ago, but something kept pulling her forward, dragging her deeper into the quiet. A sense of dread had settled in her chest, a weight she couldn't shake.

Everyone else had already left, packed their things and disappeared without a word, but she had stayed. She didn't know why. There was no reason to. Not anymore.

Her footsteps echoed in the stillness as she made her way to the clearing just outside town. She'd heard the rumors, of course. Everyone had. The stories of people disappearing, of bodies found with their heads gone. The sheriff had tried to keep it under control, but nothing worked. No one was safe.

Evelyn had long since stopped trying to make sense of it. There was no sense to be made. No logic. No reason. There was only the horror of it, the horror that hung over the town like a dark cloud. And the thing that had started it all, the thing that no one spoke about—an ancient entity that fed on the heads of the innocent.

She stopped at the edge of the clearing, her breath catching in her throat. The air felt different here, colder, as though the land itself was rejecting her presence. She stood still for a moment, letting the silence wash over her. There was nothing. No sound, no movement. It felt as if time itself had stopped.

And then she saw it.

In the center of the clearing, barely visible in the shadows, a figure stood. Its form was massive, towering over her, its limbs long and twisted. Its face—if you could call it that—was nothing but a hollow void, a gaping black hole that seemed to suck in the light around it.

The creature moved with an unnatural fluidity, too fast to follow. It was almost as if it wasn't bound by the same rules of time and space.

Evelyn took a step back, her heart racing. She wanted to run, to flee back to the safety of her home, but her body wouldn't move. It felt as though her feet were glued to the ground, her body frozen in place by an unseen force.

The creature reached down, its long fingers wrapping around something. For a moment, Evelyn thought it might be a tree branch, but then it raised its prize.

A head. A woman's head, pale and lifeless, the eyes wide open in frozen terror.

Evelyn's stomach turned. She wanted to scream, to cry out, but her voice failed her. Her mouth was dry, her throat tight. The creature held the head in front of it for a moment, inspecting it as though it were a trophy.

Then, without warning, it dropped the head to the ground like a discarded object. It rolled across the dirt, stopping just short of her feet.

And then it turned its attention back to her.

Evelyn's blood ran cold. It knew she was there. It knew she had seen it. The creature's black void of a face seemed to focus on her, its presence heavy in the air. She could feel its gaze, even though it had no eyes. It didn't need eyes.

She could hear it now, the faint sound of breathing. Low, slow, almost like a growl. The air around her thickened, pressing in on her from all sides. Her heart raced in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. There was no escaping it. There was no running. The thing was too fast, too powerful. It would be on her in an instant.

Evelyn's legs finally found movement, but it was too late. The creature had already closed the distance, its long fingers wrapping around her neck with terrifying precision. She gasped, her hands scrabbling at its grip, but it was like trying to move stone.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. All she could feel was the cold, suffocating pressure around her throat.

The creature tilted its head slightly, as if studying her. It seemed to savor the moment, drawing it out, as if enjoying her fear. Her vision blurred, her mind starting to spiral into darkness. And then, with a sickening snap, her head was ripped from her body.

The last thing Evelyn saw before everything went black was the creature, standing tall and unmoving, its black void of a face staring down at her severed head. There was no pain. There was no fear. Only darkness.

------

Robert Hale had seen many things in his time as sheriff, but nothing like this. The bodies kept coming, each one more gruesome than the last. Heads torn from bodies, leaving behind only lifeless husks. It was as if someone—or something—was collecting them. And the people of Belvoir were dying faster than he could keep up with.

He had tried everything. He had tried to reason with the townspeople, tried to calm their fears, but nothing worked. The fear was too deep, too ingrained. The stories had started to take root, and now, it was too late to stop them.

The sheriff's office had emptied out, the remaining deputies gone, their families vanished without a trace. Robert was the last one left.

He had tried to stay in town, to keep some semblance of order. But there was no more order. No more safety. The thing that haunted them was not bound by law or reason. It was an ancient force, one that had been here long before the town had even been founded.

It didn't care about the people. It didn't care about their lives. It only cared about the heads.

And Robert knew, deep down, that he wouldn't be spared. It didn't matter that he was the sheriff. It didn't matter that he had a gun. It wouldn't matter. Nothing would.

------

It was late when he heard the footsteps. Heavy, deliberate steps that echoed in the hallway outside the office. Robert reached for his revolver, his hand shaking. He didn't know what he expected, but he knew it wasn't good. The air in the room was thick, the tension unbearable.

The door creaked open.

There, standing in the doorway, was the creature. Tall, its form a shifting mass of shadows. Its face was a hollow void, a darkness that seemed to absorb the light around it. It didn't have eyes, but Robert could feel its gaze, like fingers pressing into his skin. The creature was silent, as if savoring the moment. It didn't move. It didn't need to.

The sheriff stood frozen, the revolver shaking in his hand. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

The creature's long fingers reached for him, its touch cold, like ice against his skin. And with a sickening crack, Robert's head was torn from his shoulders.

------

The collection grew larger, its faces unblinking, their expressions frozen in terror. The people of Belvoir had been taken, one by one, their heads added to the growing pile. The town was empty now, a ghost town, its once vibrant streets now abandoned, forgotten. The thing that had hunted them had moved on, searching for its next prey.

And Belvoir, like so many other places before it, was left to rot, its memory fading into the darkness.