The Last Light on Hollow Ridge

Elliot Granger had always been a collector of strange places. While most people traveled for beaches, food, or nightlife, he hunted for forgotten roads, abandoned towns, and eerie landmarks that never appeared on tourist maps. His friends in London called it ridiculous. His sister in New York called it dangerous. And his cousin in Sydney said, “Mate, one day you’ll find a place that doesn’t want to be found.”

He used to laugh at that.

Until the night he drove up Hollow Ridge.

It started on a cool autumn evening during Elliot’s solo road trip through the American Midwest. He rented a car in Chicago and planned to drive toward Oregon, stopping anywhere that felt strange enough to make his heart race. Somewhere outside Nebraska, the sun dipped behind distant hills, staining the sky red and gold. As he drove along a quiet highway, he noticed an old wooden sign half-swallowed by weeds:

Hollow Ridge – 11 Miles
Not Maintained. Travel at your own risk.

Elliot smiled. “Perfect.”

He turned onto the narrow road.


---

The Road That Shouldn't Exist

At first, Hollow Ridge seemed harmless—just a long stretch of cracked asphalt surrounded by tall pines. But a few minutes in, the radio signal vanished. The GPS froze. A thick mist rolled in so quickly it was as if the woods exhaled all at once.

Elliot slowed the car.
“This is new… even for me.”

A faint glow appeared ahead—like a single porch light in the middle of nowhere. As he approached, he saw a small cottage sitting right beside the road. It looked… wrong. Not damaged, not haunted—just out of place, like it had been dragged from another decade and forced onto the ridge.

A woman stepped outside.

She wore a long grey dress and held an oil lantern. Her hair was windblown, and her expression was calm—too calm.

Elliot rolled down his window. “Hey! Sorry to bother you. Is this still Hollow Ridge Road?”

The woman nodded once. “Turn back.”

“Why? Does the road end?”

“No,” she whispered. “But you will.”

A chill crawled down Elliot’s spine.
“Is something dangerous up ahead?”
“Only if you continue.”

Elliot hesitated—but before he could ask more, the lantern flickered, and she stepped back into the shadows of the porch. The light went out.

He blinked.

The house was gone.

Not faded. Not collapsed.
Gone.

The trees now stood where the cottage had been.

Elliot’s pulse hammered in his ears.
“Okay… that didn’t happen. I’m tired. I just need to reach the next town.”

So he kept driving.


---

A Loop With No End

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

The mist thickened until the road ahead looked like a tunnel made of fog. Elliot focused on the yellow lines, refusing to panic.

Then he saw a light again.

A soft glow through the mist.

“No way…” he breathed.

As he pulled closer, the shape came into focus.

The same cottage.
The same porch.
The same woman holding the lantern.

This time, she shook her head slowly, as though disappointed.

“I told you,” she said. “Hollow Ridge doesn’t let you leave by going forward.”

Elliot’s voice cracked. “What is this place?”

“A gap,” she answered. “Between where you are and where you’re not supposed to be.”

“I just need directions—please.”

The woman looked almost sympathetic. “Turn back. While you still can.”

Elliot put the car in reverse. He didn’t argue. Didn’t ask questions. He simply backed away until the cottage disappeared behind the fog.

When he turned the car around, the road behind him was clear. No mist, no darkness—just a normal forest road lit by a pale moon.

He exhaled in relief.
“Finally.”

He pressed the accelerator.

Five minutes later, a light appeared on the right side.

Elliot’s breath froze.

The cottage.
The Truth About Hollow Ridge

He slammed the brakes and stumbled out of the car. Anger outweighed fear.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he shouted.

The woman stepped forward, lantern glowing brighter than before. Her voice softened.

“I’m not trapping you. I’m warning you.”

“Then how do I leave?”

“You don’t drive out,” she whispered. “You wake out.”

Elliot shook his head. “Wake? What does that mean?”

She reached out and touched his forehead with two cold fingers.

His vision shattered.

The fog broke into splinters of white light, the forest twisted like melting wax, and the road beneath him dissolved. He felt himself falling backward—into darkness, into nothing—

Until he opened his eyes.


---

The World He Returned To

Elliot shot up in his car seat, gasping for air.

It was morning.

He was parked on a gravel pull-off beside the normal highway he’d left last night. Cars zoomed by. Birds chirped. The sky was clear.

There was no Hollow Ridge Road sign.

No mist.

Nothing.

Just his phone buzzing in the cupholder.

He grabbed it with shaking hands.

A text from his sister in New York:

“Elliot, are you okay?
You stopped replying last night around 11:07 PM.”

His heart stopped.

The woman had spoken at 11:07 PM.

Elliot looked into the rear-view mirror.

For a split second, behind him in the reflection, he saw a faint lantern glow.

Just one blink.

Then it vanished.