The fog clung to the village like a thick woolen blanket, muffling every sound except the occasional creak of old wood or the distant caw of a crow. Evelyn had spent the morning copying notes from the church records, but the uneasy feeling she had felt since arriving refused to fade.
She decided to take a walk to clear her mind, notebook in hand. As she passed the edge of the forest, a cold wind brushed against her neck. She shivered and stopped.
A low rustle came from the trees. At first, she thought it was an animal, but then she saw something that made her heart thud: a figure—slender, hunched—slipping between the shadows.
"Hello?" she called cautiously. No response.
The figure vanished. Evelyn frowned. The forest seemed… darker than before, as if it were breathing around her. She turned back toward the village but froze.
Near the fountain in the square, a small crowd had gathered. Their faces were pale, whispers hurried, tense. Evelyn pushed through to see what had happened.
It was Thomas Reed.
The journalist she had met briefly at the inn. He lay slumped against the fountain, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the sky. His lips trembled, but no sound came out.
A villager stepped forward. "He… he just walked here from the forest," the man said, voice shaking. "I tried to stop him, but… he kept saying he was hearing voices…"
Evelyn knelt beside him. Thomas's hands twitched unnaturally, as though invisible strings were pulling him. She noticed strange markings on his arms—thin, jagged scratches that hadn't been there before.
A whisper brushed past her ears.
"Evelyn…"
Her blood ran cold. She spun around, but the street was empty. The fog swirled unnaturally around the fountain, hiding the edges of the square in gray shadows.
Thomas let out a strangled gasp, finally making a sound. But it wasn't his voice—it was layered, distant, echoing, as if dozens of voices called from somewhere unseen.
The villagers murmured prayers under their breath. Evelyn's heart pounded. She knew this was no ordinary accident.
The curse had taken its first victim in front of her.
And it had left a message for her.
She didn't yet understand it.
But she would.