The Haunting of Hollow Creek Abode

Children bear the responsibilities. - Michelle Liew

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The secluded village of Hollow Creek was a haven for mystery-with a name that signified emptiness and a vacant, abandoned orphanage standing on its outskirts, it was a melting pot for the eerie.

The orphanage-Hollow Creek Abode, left passersby with more than a few shivers working their way up their skins. But none dared venture into its unknown halls.

None except Lena, a hard-nose journalist who had recently joined the Hollow Creek Times. Residents had filled her head with tales of ghostly apparitions and eerie happenings, believing it to be cursed. Sheer determination drove her to find the truth.

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Lena began her investigation, curiosity burning, but something elusive stirred in the recesses of her mind. Conversations with local residents unearthed more questions than answers--eerie echoes of laughter at night, shadowy figures lurking by the window, cold drafts that blew from nowhere.

Not to be deterred, the young woman steeled herself for a night at the orphanage. It was a night unsettled by distant whispers, flickering lights ---and a creeping sensation of someone watching. =

Like every journalist worth her weight in salt would do, she researched. The town spoke fondly of Agatha, a woman with a golden heart who once kept the orphanage in tip-top shape. She had since vanished--and it soon closed, with no one to head it.

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No mystery was a match for Lena's investigative spirit, so a midnight exploration was in order. She tiptoed through the dank, dismal corridors, trying to ignore the dread pooling in her mind--the lights that turned on and off without help; the strained, helpless whispers; the swish of the curtains with the howling wind.

Then, she encountered her. Agatha.

She drifted in front of a shaken Lena, her form sunken and morose.

The journalist swallowed, hard. "You...you must be Agatha."

The ghost nodded. Without speaking, she led a trembling Lena to a study, where she pointed to a yellowed newspaper on a table.

"Headmistress excecuted for allegedly mistreating children."

The article was thorough in detail--fearful townsfolk had stoned her, accusing her of ing the children. Her forgiving spirit had remained to protect them; their restless souls still combed the halls, caught in an endless loop of neglect after her execution.

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She had expected Agatha to vanish after her behest. But she didn't.

She turned to another photo on the study table instead.

A photograph of Lena. As a little girl. In the same orphanage.

A wave of regconition--then disbelief--swept over Lena. It was a faded photograph of her. As a little girl. In the same orphanage.

But she didn't remember posing for it.

After a few moments, clarity. Lena had been an orphan, raised in the same town. But why hadn't her--adoptive-- parents told her about this?

Everything that she had loved-once known--fell apart.

Agatha finally spoke, her voice a weak whisper from the corner of the room. "No one has told you?"

Lena shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. "What do you want me to do?"

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This work is entirely original. The presence AI tags is coincidental.