The Silent Town of Hollow Creek

The town of Hollow Creek was not marked on any map. It was the kind of place you stumbled upon by accident, a forgotten relic nestled deep in the woods, where the trees grew too close together and the air was always thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. The townsfolk called it home, but to outsiders, it was a place of whispers and unease.

Ellie Carter had never intended to find Hollow Creek. She was a journalist chasing a lead on a missing persons case—a young woman named Clara who had vanished while hiking near the area. The trail had gone cold, but Ellie was determined to uncover the truth. When her car broke down on a desolate road, she had no choice but to seek help in the eerie town that seemed to materialize out of the mist.

From the moment she stepped into Hollow Creek, Ellie knew something was wrong. The streets were empty, the windows of the houses dark. The only sound was the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. It was as if the town itself was holding its breath.

The first person she encountered was an old man sitting on a porch, his face shadowed by the brim of his hat. He didn’t speak, only pointed her toward the town’s only inn. The innkeeper, a woman with hollow eyes and a forced smile, gave Ellie a room for the night but warned her not to wander after dark.

“The town sleeps early,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s best you do too.”

But Ellie couldn’t sleep. The silence was oppressive, like a weight pressing down on her chest. She tossed and turned, her mind racing with questions. Where were the people? Why did the air feel so heavy? And what was that faint sound she kept hearing—a low, rhythmic hum that seemed to come from beneath the floorboards?

Curiosity got the better of her. Slipping out of her room, Ellie crept down the stairs and into the empty streets. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that seemed to move on their own. She followed the hum, which grew louder as she approached the edge of town.

There, hidden among the trees, was a clearing. In the center stood a circle of townsfolk, their faces pale and expressionless. They were chanting in unison, their voices blending into the eerie hum that had drawn Ellie there. At the center of the circle was a pit, its edges lined with jagged stones.

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what she was witnessing. The townsfolk were not just chanting—they were summoning something. And in the pit, she saw movement. Shadows writhed and twisted, rising like smoke from the depths.

Before she could turn and run, a hand clamped down on her shoulder. It was the innkeeper, her eyes now glowing with an unnatural light.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” she hissed. “But now that you have, you’ll stay. Like the others.”

Ellie struggled, but it was no use. The townsfolk surrounded her, their chants growing louder, more urgent. The shadows in the pit surged upward, taking shape—a monstrous, formless thing that seemed to devour the light around it.

As the creature reached for her, Ellie realized the truth. Hollow Creek was not just a town. It was a prison, a place where the living were sacrificed to keep the darkness at bay. And she was the next offering.

The last thing she heard was the hum, now deafening, as the shadows closed in.

The next morning, the town was silent once more. The streets were empty, the windows dark. And in the woods, the clearing was gone, as if it had never existed.

But if you listen closely, on a quiet night, you might hear it—the faint hum of Hollow Creek, calling for its next visitor.