Horror Series in Francistown

The sun hung low over Francistown, casting long shadows across the dusty streets. The air was thick with the scent of earth and the faint tang of copper, a reminder of the town’s lifeblood—the mines. Lerato Mokoena stepped off the bus, her leather satchel slung over her shoulder, and took a deep breath. She hadn’t been back in years, not since she left for university in Gaborone. Now, she was here as a journalist, chasing a story that had already claimed too many lives.

The town looked the same—small, weathered houses, the occasional modern building, and the ever-present hum of mining activity in the distance. But something felt off. The streets were quieter than she remembered, and the few people she passed avoided her gaze.

Lerato made her way to the local tavern, a dimly lit place called The Miner’s Rest. Inside, the air was heavy with the smell of stale beer and sweat. A few men sat at the bar, their faces lined with exhaustion. She approached the bartender, a middle-aged man with a scar running down his cheek.

“I’m looking for information,” she said, sliding a photo across the counter. It showed a group of miners, their faces smudged with dirt, standing in front of a mine shaft. “These men disappeared last month. Do you know anything about it?”

The bartender’s eyes flicked to the photo, then to her. He hesitated before speaking. “You don’t want to go digging into that, miss. Some things are better left buried.”

“I’m a journalist,” Lerato replied, her voice firm. “I’m here to find out what happened to them.”

The bartender sighed, glancing around the room as if someone might be listening. “They were working near the old shaft—the one they sealed up years ago. Bad things happened there. People say it’s cursed.”

“Cursed?” Lerato raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t one to believe in superstitions, but the way he said it sent a chill down her spine.

“The Beneath,” he whispered, leaning closer. “That’s what they call it. An evil thing, older than the mines. It takes people, makes them disappear. And when they come back… they’re not the same.”

Before she could ask more, the door creaked open, and a hush fell over the room. An elderly man shuffled in, his face weathered like the bark of an ancient tree. He looked at Lerato with piercing eyes, as if he could see straight through her.

“You’re the one asking about the shaft,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“Yes,” Lerato replied, trying to hide her unease. “Do you know something about it?”

The old man nodded slowly. “I was there when they sealed it. They thought they could lock it away, but it’s still there, waiting. And now it’s waking up.”

“What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and walked out, leaving Lerato with more questions than answers.

That night, she lay in her rented room, the sound of the wind howling outside. Sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind kept returning to the old man’s words. It’s still there, waiting.

The next morning, she headed to the mine, determined to see the sealed shaft for herself. The site was abandoned, the entrance blocked by a rusted gate and a faded sign that read DANGER: KEEP OUT. As she approached, she noticed something strange—the ground around the shaft was cracked, as if something had pushed its way up from below.

She was about to take a closer look when a voice called out. “Hey! You shouldn’t be here!”

Lerato turned to see a young miner jogging toward her. He looked nervous, his eyes darting to the shaft.

“I’m just looking around,” she said.

“This place isn’t safe,” he replied. “People have been disappearing. Last night, my friend Tshepo… he was working late, and he said he heard whispers coming from the shaft. When we went to check on him, he was gone.”

Lerato’s heart raced. “What kind of whispers?”

The miner shook his head. “I don’t know. But they weren’t human.”

As he spoke, a low rumble echoed from the shaft, and the ground beneath her feet trembled. The miner grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

“We need to go. Now.”

They ran, the sound of the whispers fading behind them. But as Lerato looked back, she could have sworn she saw something moving in the shadows—a shape, dark and twisted, reaching out from the depths.