The Village That Answered No One

THE VILLAGE THAT ANSWERED NO ONE

Written by Haroon Bahramzai

Somewhere in the fog-soaked valleys of northern Europe, tucked between two forested hills where GPS signals fade and birds fly cautiously, there once stood a village called Eld hollow.

It is no longer marked on modern maps. Not even the oldest road signs mention its name. But if you ask some of the older residents in nearby towns, you’ll find whispers of a place that no one visits anymore. A place where people once lived, but now won’t even be spoken of directly.

No one recalls when Eld hollow was founded. There are no written records. But for centuries, it quietly existed—isolated, self-sufficient, and deeply secretive. The villagers rarely left, and outsiders were never welcomed.

By all appearances, Eld hollow was just a small rural settlement: a handful of stone cottages, a crumbling church with ivy climbing its steeple, a circular well at the heart of the square, and a small wooden schoolhouse. No electricity. No modern roads. Just silence and solitude.

And then—one day, it simply ceased to exist.

Unseen and Unreachable

It was the early spring of 1971 when Lina Moreau, a young French journalist known for investigating the strange and unexplainable, decided to travel to Eldhollow.

She had heard local rumors in the neighboring town of Harrenwood—stories about distant chanting echoing through the woods at night, about ghostly lights flashing behind the trees, and about several hikers who had never returned after entering the forest trail known as the Black Hollow Path.

No one dared to go looking for those who had vanished. Not even the police.

Lina, however, was fascinated. She was known to chase mysteries others ignored. And so, on March 21st, 1971, she packed a camera, a small tape recorder, notebooks, and a sleeping bag. She left Harrenwood just after sunrise.

She never returned.

What She Found

A week later, her abandoned car was found at the forest’s edge. In it were four rolls of undeveloped film and her travel log—half-complete. But there was no sign of Lina herself.

A search party was quickly formed. Authorities from the region, along with local volunteers and two journalists, followed the winding Black Hollow Path to Eldhollow. What they discovered was chilling.

The village was empty.

Not destroyed. Not decayed. Just… abandoned.

Pots still sat on stoves. Fireplaces were warm with ash. Beds were unmade. A loaf of bread rested on a windowsill. The well bucket hung halfway up, as though someone had started pulling and never finished.

It was as if every single person had simply stood up and walked away, all at the same moment. Without warning. Without struggle.

Even stranger, every clock in the village—whether wall-mounted, pocket watch, or grandfather-style—had stopped at 3:17 AM.

There were no signs of violence. No blood. No animals. Not even birds.

Eld hollow was eerily preserved—yet devoid of life.

The Final Recording

Among Lina’s recovered items was a small tape recorder. It contained one final message. Just six minutes long.

The recording begins with her soft voice describing the stillness. The unsettling silence. How even the trees seemed afraid to move. She sounds nervous but curious.

Then… the recording changes.

You can hear the faint sound of bells—though no one has touched the church bell rope in decades. A low humming begins, like voices in harmony, growing louder. Layered, unrecognizable whispers rise beneath it.

And then comes Lina’s voice again.

But this time, she is not narrating.

Her voice is distant, dreamlike. As if she’s speaking from somewhere far away.

“They answered,” she whispers. “I wish they hadn’t.”

Then silence. And the tape ends.

Disappearance of a Place

Three days after the search party’s visit, a second team was sent to investigate further.

They never found Eldhollow.

The Black Hollow Path was completely overgrown—as if it had never been there. GPS showed no signs of structures, ruins, or clearings. The village had vanished without a trace.

No one could explain it. The first team swore they had entered the village, stood in its center, photographed it. Yet nothing was left. It was as if Eldhollow had been swallowed by the earth—or something far older.

Years passed. Researchers, paranormal investigators, and even military scouts tried to locate Eldhollow. All attempts failed.

No one found so much as a single stone.

Legacy of Fear

In the decades since, stories of Eldhollow have become legend.

Some say it was cursed. Others believe the villagers practiced rituals that called forth something they could not control. A few even claim the entire place never existed—that it was a shared hallucination or hoax.

But the most chilling theory?

That Eldhollow still exists, but only when it chooses to.

That it lies just beyond sight—waiting in the mist for someone to find it again.

And when they do…

It may not let them leave.

To this day, hikers near the forest sometimes report hearing voices in the fog. Bells ringing faintly past midnight. Or worse—seeing a pale figure watching from between the trees.

If you ever find yourself near Harrenwood, and you come across an unmarked trail, overgrown and strangely quiet—turn around.

Because some villages… don’t like to be found.

And some places answer when called—

But never let you go once they do.