I nodded, suspicion coiling tighter in my gut. She offered fresh bread and jam. Her voice is sweet and insistent. I’d seen Amelia tense beside me; I’d felt her heartbeat hammering against my ribs. Finally, I agreed, if only to buy a moment.
We sat at a rickety table scarred with rings from long-dried mugs. Shadows in the corners shifted like living things. I bit into bread that tasted of ash.
Amelia barely touched her plate. I kept my eyes on the innkeeper, who hovered nearby, silent and watchful. My pulse thrummed with remembered horrors. Storms that had come for us before, darkness that clawed at the edges of hope.
“Let’s eat and get the hell out of here,” I muttered under my breath. Amelia’s hand brushed mine; the tiny spark of contact was my only comfort.
As soon as we could, we slipped out into the damp morning air.
We trudged down cracked pavement, water pooling in ruts. Every boarded-up window felt like an eye watching. An ancient church bell tower, half-collapsed, loomed overhead. My throat tightened.
“Twenty minutes, right?” I whispered.
“Right,” Amelia replied, though her voice quivered.
A raven cawed somewhere above us. I looked up to see it perched on a gnarled branch, its dark eye fixed on us. My skin crawled.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Amelia muttered, glancing at peeling paint and shuttered shops swaying in the wind.
Rusty wind chimes on a porch clanked like distant screams. Faded photographs were tacked to telephone poles: smiling families from another era, their eyes scratched out, their mouths frozen in joy they no longer possessed.
When we finally reached the mechanic’s shack, a faded sign swung on a single rusty hinge. I pushed the door open; a rusty bell rang overhead.
Inside, dust motes danced in a sliver of light. Tires, wrenches, and greasy rags lay scattered.
Behind a scarred counter stood a stocky man with a scruffy beard and a baseball cap pulled so low it cast half his face in shadow. He folded his arms and let silence stretch.
“What do you need?” he grunted. His voice was low and rough.
“Our tire blew out a few miles back. Can you tow it in?” I kept my tone even.
“Sure,” he said, but each word felt heavy, as if he’d weighed us in his mind and found us restless prey. “You sure you don’t want a spare? Got one in the back.”
“We’re good,” I said firmly. “Just get the old girl back on the road.”
He spat something under his breath, then ambled out. Amelia and I slipped into the shadowed corner, her shoulder brushing mine. My heart thundered, every nerve alive to his unseen intentions.
The mechanic returned with our car in tow.
“All set,” he finally said, his smile too wide, his demeanor unsettling. “You two had better be careful. Strange things happen around here.”
“Yeah, we’ve heard,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Let’s just get this done.”
He began to slowly work on the car, and as he did, he made small talk, but his words felt hollow. “You know, this town used to be a lot livelier. Folks came here for the festivals and celebrations. But things change. People disappear, and the town gets quieter.”
“Disappearing seems to be a theme around here,” I muttered under my breath, my instincts screaming that something wasn’t right.
The mechanic laughed, but it was an uneasy sound, like a crow’s caw. “Yeah, well, some say the old places hold onto their secrets.”
I shot a glance at Amelia, who looked as uncomfortable as I felt. “Thanks for the warning,” I said, my voice low as I clenched my fists, my body tense.
As the mechanic continued to work, I could see the way he eyed us, the way he seemed to stall, taking his time.
In time, he finally finished.
He wiped his hands while holding an intense stare.
“You two really should consider staying a bit longer, you know. There’s plenty to see around here.”
