RETURN

The narrow road into Grey Hollow was swallowed by thick fog, the towering trees looming over like silent watchers. Radha hadn’t returned to her hometown in over a decade. The sudden deaths of her parents had forced her back—an unexpected car crash, the authorities had said. Her parents had veered off the road, their car plummeting into the ravine outside of town. Accidents like that were rare in Grey Hollow, but there was something unsettling about the entire situation that Radha couldn’t shake.

More disturbing than the accident itself was the eerie silence from the people. Grey Hollow was a small town, and in places like this, everyone knew everyone’s business. She had expected messages of sympathy, phone calls, someone reaching out. But nothing came. The town had always been quiet, but this silence felt deliberate. Ominous.

As Radha drove through the familiar streets, her unease deepened. The place seemed almost frozen in time, yet lifeless. There were no children playing in the streets, no neighbors sitting on their porches. The few people she did see hurried by with their heads down, refusing to make eye contact. It was as if the town itself had shrunk away from her.

Radha parked outside her childhood home, a two-story house that had once been full of warmth and light. Now, it stood there, cold and empty, as if it hadn’t been lived in for years. The peeling paint, the cracked windows, and the overgrown garden gave the place a ghostly appearance. The wind howled through the trees, making the old house creak and groan as if it were alive, warning her to stay away.

She stepped inside, greeted by the stale scent of dust and decay. Everything looked untouched, as if her parents had simply vanished. But there was something else, too—a faint, sour odor that lingered in the air, almost as though the house itself had rotted from within. Radha couldn’t place it, but it made her skin crawl. She felt as though she wasn’t alone, as though the house was watching her.

That night, unable to sleep, Radha decided to visit the town market. She needed some air, and perhaps seeing familiar faces would help shake the growing dread she felt. The streets were eerily deserted. The dim streetlights cast long shadows, stretching out like dark fingers reaching for her.

When she arrived at the market, the few shops that were open seemed oddly quiet. She entered the small grocery store she used to visit as a child. Mr. Harland, the shopkeeper, was behind the counter, but he didn’t greet her as he usually would. His eyes flicked up to meet hers for the briefest of moments, then darted away, his face pale and drawn.

“Radha,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

“What do you mean?” Radha asked, her heart beginning to race.

Mr. Harland didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shuffled nervously, glancing toward the door as if he expected someone—or something—to come through at any moment. “There are things...things here that have changed since you left. Things better left alone.”

Radha felt a chill crawl up her spine. “Like what? What’s going on?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in fear. “You need to leave,” he whispered urgently, his voice trembling. “Go back to the city. Don’t stay here.”

Before Radha could ask more, Mr. Harland disappeared into the back of the store, leaving her standing there, confused and frightened. The market, once bustling with life, now felt like a graveyard.

As Radha walked back to her car, she felt eyes on her. The shadows seemed to pulse and shift, closing in around her. She quickened her pace, her pulse racing. When she reached her home, the uneasy feeling only grew worse. The house felt colder than before, the strange smell stronger.

That night, Radha lay in bed, unable to sleep. The wind howled outside, but beneath it, she thought she could hear something else—a soft, rhythmic sound, like footsteps. Slowly, she rose from bed and crept toward the window. Peering out, she saw figures moving through the fog. They were standing at the edge of her yard, watching her house.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized they weren’t people at all. Their limbs were twisted, unnaturally long, their faces obscured by the mist, but their glowing eyes pierced through the darkness. They stood there, unmoving, staring at her. The same warning echoed in her mind—you shouldn’t have come back.

Radha stumbled back from the window, her heart pounding. The figures remained outside, waiting, as if they knew something she didn’t. As if they had been waiting for her return all along.

The next morning, Radha knew one thing for certain: her parents’ deaths hadn’t been an accident. And whatever secret Grey Hollow was hiding, it was far darker than she could have ever imagined.

Radha’s hands trembled as she pulled the curtains shut, her pulse racing. She paced the room, trying to make sense of what she had just seen. The figures—inhuman and silent—were still etched in her mind, their glowing eyes haunting her every thought. Sleep was impossible. Every creak of the house made her jump, and the sour odor in the air was growing stronger, almost suffocating now.

At dawn, Radha could no longer stand the suffocating atmosphere inside the house. She threw on a jacket and stepped outside, hoping the fresh air would clear her mind. The fog was still thick, clinging to the town like a shroud. The figures were gone, but the unease in her chest remained.

She decided to head to the local police station, determined to get some answers about her parents' deaths. It wasn’t far, just a short walk down the street. As she made her way through the empty lanes, she noticed something strange: the few people who were outside immediately averted their gaze the moment they saw her. Some hurried inside, slamming their doors shut. It was as if her very presence was unwelcome, like she carried a plague they didn’t want to catch.

When she arrived at the station, the small brick building was as lifeless as the rest of the town. The officer at the front desk, a stout man in his fifties, looked up with tired, wary eyes when she entered.

“I’m Radha,” she began, her voice firm. “I’m here to talk about my parents’ accident.”

The officer didn’t respond right away. He simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he stood up and gestured for her to follow him into the back. Radha's heart thudded as she walked down the dim hallway, the silence between them thick with tension. He led her into a small, cramped office, where he sat down and motioned for her to do the same.

“What do you want to know?” he asked gruffly, avoiding eye contact.

“Everything,” Radha said. “Their deaths—there’s something off about it. I’ve lived in this town. I know how people drive here, how careful they are. My parents wouldn’t have just veered off the road like that.”

The officer sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. “It was an accident. We’ve been over this.”

“No,” Radha leaned forward, her voice sharpening. “There’s something more. The town, the way people are acting, it’s like everyone knows something but won’t say a word.”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for a split second, Radha saw fear in them. Real fear. “Look, it’s not my place to say, but… your parents were asking questions. Questions about the history of Grey Hollow. About the disappearances.”

“Disappearances?” Radha’s stomach dropped. She had heard no such thing when she was living here.

He nodded slowly. “It started years ago. People would vanish without a trace. No bodies, no clues, nothing. Just… gone. The town’s quiet about it. No one wants to stir up the past. But your parents—they were digging. Going through old records, asking people questions, getting too close.”

“To what?”

The officer hesitated, his fingers drumming nervously on the desk. “To the truth. The Hollow has always had its secrets. Old stories, folklore… but your parents were starting to think it was more than just that. Something real. Something dangerous.”

Radha’s blood ran cold. Her parents hadn’t told her anything about this. “So… they were killed because of it?”

The officer shook his head. “I don’t know. But their deaths… it wasn’t just an accident. Something—” he stopped abruptly, glancing toward the door as if someone might overhear him. “I’ve already said too much.”

“You can’t just leave it there!” Radha’s voice rose, desperate for answers. “What’s happening here? What are those things I saw outside my house last night?”

The officer paled. “You saw them?”

Radha nodded, her heart pounding. “What are they?”

“They’re part of the town,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Old, ancient things. They live in the fog, in the dark places of Grey Hollow. The disappearances… the accidents… it’s them. Always them. The town knows, but no one talks about it. They won’t risk it.”

A chill ran down Radha’s spine. “Why?”

“Because they’re watching. Always watching.” His voice trembled now. “They take what they want, and anyone who gets too close to the truth is next.”

Radha sat back, her mind spinning. Everything she had believed about her hometown, about her parents, was unraveling. She had to leave—leave and never return. But as she stood to go, the officer reached across the desk, gripping her wrist tightly.

“Radha,” he said, his voice trembling with fear. “You need to leave Grey Hollow. Now. Before they come for you too.”

Radha nodded, her heart pounding as she pulled her hand free and hurried out of the station. As she stepped back onto the fog-covered streets, the eerie silence seemed to press in on her from all sides. The fog swirled, thick and oppressive, and somewhere in the distance, she swore she could hear the faint sound of footsteps, echoing through the mist.

The Hollow’s secrets weren’t buried. They were alive—and waiting.

Radha’s breath came in short gasps as she left the police station, her mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. Every step felt heavier as she moved through the thick fog, her footsteps the only sound breaking the suffocating silence. The words of the officer echoed in her mind: “They’re watching. Always watching.”

She had to leave. Now.

The thought of fleeing Grey Hollow clung to her as the only escape from this nightmare. But something else gnawed at her—her parents hadn’t run. They had stayed, searching for answers. What if she was already too late? What if the town wouldn’t let her leave?

Her heart pounded as she approached her car, parked outside her parents’ home. The house loomed in the fog like a specter from her past, the windows dark and hollow. A part of her wanted to gather her belongings and drive far, far away. But another part, the part that wanted to understand what had happened to her parents, kept her feet planted on the ground. She had to go inside. There had to be something—anything—that could explain what her parents had found.

Taking a deep breath, Radha stepped through the front door, the familiar creak echoing in the stillness. The sour smell had grown stronger, filling the house like a rotting secret. Her skin crawled as she walked through the darkened rooms, every shadow shifting in the corners of her vision. Her mother’s study—where she had spent hours reading and researching—was her destination. If her parents had left any clues behind, it would be there.

The study was untouched, just as her mother had left it. Books were scattered across the desk, yellowing papers stacked haphazardly. Radha began flipping through the papers, her hands trembling. Most of the documents were old town records, maps, and strange symbols she didn’t recognize. But then, buried under a stack of old newspaper clippings, she found a notebook.

Her mother’s handwriting covered the pages, filled with frantic notes about Grey Hollow’s history—legends of spirits that roamed the forests, ancient rituals, disappearances dating back centuries. But one entry caught Radha’s eye, scribbled hastily in the margins:

“They are not spirits. They are something older. They control the town. We are all prisoners, and no one escapes once they’ve marked you. We need to leave… but they’re watching.”

Radha’s stomach lurched. Her parents had known the danger and had tried to run, but it was too late. And now, it was too late for her.

A low creak echoed through the house, and Radha froze. The air turned icy, her breath visible in the dim light. Slowly, she turned toward the door. The sour smell intensified, the floorboards groaned, and the shadows in the hallway shifted unnaturally. A sense of dread washed over her, heavier than anything she had felt before.

She wasn’t alone.

The fog outside seemed to creep into the house, tendrils of mist slithering under the door. And then, she saw them—figures emerging from the darkness. Their limbs were long and twisted, their faces shrouded in mist, but their eyes glowed with an unnatural light, just like the ones she had seen the night before. They filled the hallway, unmoving, watching her.

Radha’s body went cold with terror. She backed away slowly, her mind screaming for her to run, but her legs felt like lead. The notebook slipped from her trembling hands and hit the floor with a soft thud.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The figures didn’t move, but the air grew heavier, suffocating. Radha’s thoughts raced—she had to get out of here. Now. Without another thought, she turned and bolted for the back door, her heart pounding in her ears. She could hear them behind her, the sound of their unnatural footsteps growing closer, but she didn’t dare look back.

Bursting through the back door, Radha stumbled into the fog. The thick mist wrapped around her, cold and damp, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of her. She sprinted toward her car, her pulse hammering in her chest. The figures were close—too close.

She reached the car, her hands fumbling with the keys. Her fingers slipped as she tried to fit the key into the ignition, panic threatening to overwhelm her. Finally, the engine roared to life. She slammed the door shut just as a shadowy figure appeared in front of the windshield, its glowing eyes boring into her

Radha screamed and floored the gas pedal. The car lurched forward, barreling through the fog, but the figures didn’t move. They simply watched, standing in the mist as she sped away from the house, their presence searing into her mind.

The road out of Grey Hollow was winding and treacherous, the fog thickening with every mile. Radha gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror. The shadows seemed to stretch out behind her, following her.

She didn’t stop until she was miles away from the town, the fog slowly lifting as she neared the highway. Only then did she dare to breathe. Her chest heaved with a mix of relief and terror, but something gnawed at her—something that told her she wasn’t free.

As the sun began to rise, Radha glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her breath caught in her throat.

In the dim light, her eyes glowed.

---

Radha hadn’t escaped Grey Hollow.

No one ever did.