Whispers from the Hollow

There was a place, forgotten by time, hidden deep in the woods. A village so isolated that even the bravest travelers dared not venture there. It wasn’t on any map. Its existence was more myth than reality, whispered about in the distant towns where no one dared to speak of it for too long. The villagers called it The Hollow.

When Kate and her friends heard the rumors, they scoffed. Ghost stories, old legends—it was all fun and games until they were forced to confront the truth. They were curious, perhaps foolish, and always seeking adventure. So, on a cool autumn evening, they set out, armed with nothing but their courage and their phones, determined to uncover the mysteries of The Hollow once and for all.

The journey took them deeper into the forest than they had ever been before. The trees seemed to close in on them, and the air grew thick with an unnatural stillness. By the time they reached the edge of the village, the sun had long since set, leaving only a faint sliver of light at the horizon. The village lay before them, half-drowned in the shadows of the night.

The houses were dilapidated, their wooden frames warped and rotting, but still standing as though holding onto something unseen. An eerie fog clung to the ground, swirling around their feet as they stepped forward. The air smelled of decay, but also something sweeter—like a memory from long ago, one that was buried deep, never meant to surface.

“Should we really be here?” Emily asked, her voice trembling. The others ignored her, pressing on. They had come this far. There was no turning back now.

As they walked down the village’s narrow, overgrown paths, they noticed strange symbols carved into the crumbling stone walls of the houses. At first, they thought it was just old graffiti, but as they looked closer, they realized the symbols were too deliberate, too intricate to be random. They were warnings.

“Look at this,” said Jake, holding up his flashlight to a large symbol carved into a doorframe. It was a circle, with lines running through it in a way that made Kate’s stomach churn. Something about it seemed so... wrong. But she couldn’t quite place it.

A whisper echoed through the empty village, so faint that at first, they thought it was just the wind. But then, it came again—closer this time. Kate turned, expecting to see someone standing behind her, but the street was empty. The whisper was not from a person.

“It’s probably just the wind,” Kate said, though even she didn’t believe her own words.

The group continued deeper into the village, the oppressive silence growing heavier. But the further they ventured, the more they began to hear—soft, hushed voices. The whispers seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, growing louder with each step. It was as if the village itself was alive, breathing, watching.

“Did you hear that?” Emily asked, stopping dead in her tracks. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Someone’s here.”

“No one’s here,” Jake replied, trying to sound confident. But his voice faltered as a low growl echoed from the shadows. The temperature dropped, and their breaths turned to mist.

They found themselves standing in front of an old church. Its door was ajar, and from within, the whispers were so loud, so frantic, that it felt as though the walls themselves were closing in on them.

“Let’s get out of here,” Emily urged, her voice shaking.

But before they could turn around, the ground beneath their feet shifted. The earth trembled, and an unnatural wind howled through the village, shaking the trees. A dark figure appeared in the doorway of the church, its outline indistinct, its presence overwhelming.

It didn’t move like a person. It glided, its form shifting with the fog, its eyes two glowing pinpricks in the darkness.

“Come closer,” the figure whispered, its voice like the sound of gravel scraping against stone.

Kate’s heart raced. “We need to leave. Now.”

But the village had already claimed them.

The figure stepped forward, and the ground beneath them cracked open, swallowing the path ahead. A deep, cavernous hole had opened where the church’s steps had once been, and from it, something dark and ancient stirred.

The whispers grew louder, more insistent, as though the earth itself was calling to them, begging them to listen.

“Why did you come?” the figure asked. “You’ve awakened us.”

The sky darkened as the hollow winds carried the whispers higher, into the night. The village was not just a place—it was a living, breathing thing, and it had been waiting for them.

One by one, the friends turned, panic seizing their hearts, but there was no escape. The village was closing in, its walls stretching, its ground shifting. They were caught in the hollow, bound by the ancient curse that had cursed this forsaken place for centuries.

The last thing Kate saw before the shadows overtook them was the figure, its eyes burning with an unholy light, its mouth stretching into a smile that wasn’t a smile at all. The whispers turned into screams, a chorus of tortured souls, and then there was nothing.

Thank you for reading Whispers from the Hollow. If you enjoyed the eerie tale, don’t forget to hit the like button and share it with your friends. Let the whispers reach further, and may they never find you in the darkness.