The trail ended abruptly, swallowed by dense fog that clung to the mountainside like a shroud. Jane hesitated, her compass swinging wildly as if repelled by some unseen force. A chill crawled up her spine, urging her to turn back. But curiosity, that damnable human trait, propelled her forward into the mist.
As the fog thinned, Jane found herself on the outskirts of a town she didn’t recognize. Dilapidated Victorian houses loomed like crooked teeth, their paint peeling in leprous patches. The streets were eerily empty, devoid of life or movement. Even the air felt stagnant, as if time itself had ceased to flow.
Jane’s boots echoed hollowly on the cracked pavement as she ventured deeper into the abandoned settlement. Windows stared accusingly, their glass eyes clouded with decades of grime. Rusted cars sat frozen in eternal gridlock, their interiors hosting colonies of mold and decay. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of settling wood or the skitter of unseen vermin.
A tattered poster fluttered in a nonexistent breeze, catching Jane’s attention. The faded image showed a smiling family, emblazoned with the words “Welcome to Hollowbrook – Where Dreams Come True!” The date at the bottom read 1952. Jane frowned, her unease growing. How could an entire town simply vanish from existence?
As she rounded a corner, Jane stumbled upon a sight that made her blood run cold. In the town square stood a massive oak tree, its branches bare and twisted like arthritic fingers clawing at the sky. But it wasn’t the tree itself that caused her breath to catch in her throat. It was the dozens of decaying corpses that hung from its limbs, swaying gently in the stagnant air.
Jane’s mind reeled, unable to process the horror before her. The bodies were in various states of decomposition, some little more than skeletons while others retained the grotesque remnants of flesh. Their faces were frozen in expressions of agony, mouths agape in silent screams.
A rustling sound from behind made Jane whirl around. She found herself face to face with a figure that defied comprehension. It wore the tattered remains of a 1950s suit, but its skin was a sickly gray, pulled tight over elongated limbs. Its face was a nightmare of distorted features, with bulging eyes and a mouth that split its head nearly in two.
“Welcome to Hollowbrook,” it rasped, its voice like gravel scraping against bone. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Jane’s scream died in her throat as more figures emerged from the shadows, each more horrifically deformed than the last. They moved with an unnatural fluidity, closing in on her with predatory grace. Her legs finally remembering how to work, Jane turned and ran, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
She tore through the streets, the creatures in hot pursuit. Their inhuman wails echoed off the buildings, a cacophony of hunger and madness. Jane’s lungs burned as she pushed herself harder, desperate to escape this nightmare.
Just as she thought she might collapse, Jane spotted a glimmer of hope – the edge of town, where the fog still lingered. She sprinted towards it, praying it would lead her back to safety. The creatures’ cries grew louder, closer, their fetid breath hot on her neck.
With a final burst of energy, Jane plunged into the fog. The world around her dissolved into a swirling gray void. She ran blindly, branches whipping her face, roots threatening to trip her with every step. The screams of her pursuers faded, replaced by the thundering of her own pulse in her ears.
Suddenly, the fog cleared. Jane found herself back on the hiking trail, gasping for air and trembling uncontrollably. She spun around, but there was no sign of Hollowbrook or its monstrous inhabitants. Only the dense forest and the distant chirping of birds greeted her.
As her breathing slowly steadied, Jane’s mind grappled with what she had witnessed. Had it all been a hallucination? A vivid waking nightmare? She fumbled for her phone, desperate to call for help or at least confirm her own sanity.
The screen flickered to life, revealing dozens of missed calls and messages. All from the same unknown number. With shaking fingers, Jane opened the most recent one. A single line of text glowed mockingly:
“Come back soon. Hollowbrook is always waiting.”
