The Shadow That Follows

Ethan's pulse hammered in his ears. Mrs. Calloway's words lingered like a curse in the air.

They vanished. One by one.

No one spoke for a long moment. The weight of the old book between them felt heavier than it should have. Ethan stared at its cracked cover, his fingers hovering over the edges, hesitating.

Finally, Clara broke the silence. "We need to know what's inside."

Eleanor swallowed. "What if we don't like the answer?"

Ethan met her gaze. "We don't have a choice."

With a deep breath, he flipped open the cover.

The Forgotten History

The pages were old and fragile, filled with ink that had faded over time. The handwriting was elegant but uneven, as if written in desperation.

Ethan scanned the words.

There is something buried beneath Whispering Pines.

Something ancient.

Something awake.

A chill spread through his chest.

Clara read over his shoulder. "That's… not vague and horrifying at all."

Eleanor pointed at a passage further down. "Look at this."

The words were scrawled, the ink darker, bolder. A warning that had been pressed into the page with a shaking hand.

The Marked are chosen.

The Marked are cursed.

If you bear the mark, it sees you.

Ethan's fingers curled into a fist. His skin burned where the mark sat.

Mrs. Calloway cleared her throat. "That mark isn't just a sign," she said. "It's a beacon."

Ethan stiffened. "For what?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. But the last person I saw with it… he disappeared the night after he got it."

Eleanor's breath hitched. "When was that?"

Mrs. Calloway's voice dropped even lower.

"Thirty years ago."

The Watching Eyes

A loud thud from outside made them all jump.

Ethan's head snapped toward the window. The street outside was empty, but… something felt off. The shadows along the buildings looked wrong, too stretched, too deep.

And then he saw it.

A shape. Standing just beyond the streetlamp's glow.

Not moving. Just watching.

His blood ran cold.

"Did you see that?" he whispered.

Clara turned, following his gaze. "See what?"

Ethan blinked.

The figure was gone.

His hands felt clammy. "I swear, someone was just there."

Mrs. Calloway grabbed his wrist suddenly, her grip strong for someone her age. "Listen to me."

Ethan looked at her, startled.

"You don't have much time," she whispered. "Whatever it is—it knows you now."

A chill crept down his spine.

Eleanor exhaled shakily. "What do we do?"

Mrs. Calloway hesitated. "You need to leave town. Before it's too late."

But Ethan wasn't sure that was possible anymore.

Because deep down, he knew—

Whatever was watching him…

It wasn't going to let him go.