Chapter 1 – The Road to Clenton
Two friends. One late-night drive. The road ahead feels longer than it should… and darker than it’s supposed to be.
The car rolled down the narrow, winding road, swallowed by inky blackness. The waning moon hung low, hidden behind a thick veil of clouds that refused to part until dawn. The world outside was eerily silent—no lights, no people, just the hum of the engine, the faint crackle of the FM radio, and the whisper of wind slipping through the rolled-down windows.
The headlights carved through the darkness, casting eerie, twisted shadows that danced across the trees. Everything about that night felt slightly off—as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Inside, Nicole and I huddled close, faces faintly lit by the glow of the dashboard. The radio was playing a horror story—its sinister tone oddly fitting for the desolate road we were on.
“My God, this is perfect,” I said, eyes wide with excitement. “These roads are exactly what I wanted. I love the feeling.”
Nicole groaned. “Of course you do. You’re not the one driving through this darkness and crappy road.”
“Shut up, Nicole. You love it too,” I teased. “Stop pretending.”
She laughed. “You’re so weird sometimes. You’re into astronomy, psychology, and horror. How do those even go together?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just love exploring strange, obscure things. And don’t act like you’re innocent—you love horror too. That’s literally why we’re driving to your village. You said it’s full of creepy legends.”
Nicole smirked. “Oh, it is. My granny used to tell me stories when I was little. You’re going to love it—and it’s great for stargazing too.”
“Promise you won’t wake me at 3 A.M. to stare at dots in the sky,” she groaned.
I grinned. “I promise. But I will make you hunt for ghosts.”
She sighed dramatically. “Fine. Ghost hunting it is.”
We laughed, the sound echoing softly inside the car, swallowed quickly by the night outside.
Hours passed. Just before dawn, a blue sign appeared in our headlights: “Clenton – 2 km.” Finally.
After the long drive, both of us were eager to stretch our legs. The closer we got, the calmer I felt. This place had always been my escape—a quiet world far away from everything loud and messy. The thought of it made me smile, and when I glanced at Nicole, she was smiling too.
Clenton was small—four or five narrow streets, simple houses, and familiar faces. Most people here were older, living the same quiet lives their families had for generations. It should’ve felt peaceful… but it didn’t.
As we drove in, we noticed people gathered at their doorsteps, whispering urgently. The moment they saw our car, they fell silent. Every gaze followed us—curious, anxious, even fearful. A few glanced nervously around, as if expecting something—or someone—to appear.
“That’s strange,” Nicole murmured. “Do they always act like this when someone visits?”
I shook my head, a chill creeping down my spine. “Not usually. Something must be going on.”
We pulled up in front of my granny’s house. A yellow and red cloth was tied to the gate, a copper plate hanging beside it—just like all the other homes.
Before I could say anything, the front door opened, and Granny Elle stepped out, her face bright with a wide, familiar smile. The unease faded for a moment. I jumped out of the car and hugged her tight, her lavender scent instantly calming me.
“Isis, darling! It’s been ages. Look at you—all grown up and thin as a stick! Are you eating properly?” she scolded, making Nicole laugh.
Granny’s eyes darted to her. “And you, young lady—you look mischievous as ever,” she teased, making me laugh even harder.
“We’re fine, Granny,” I said. “You’re the one glowing with energy! People will think you’re the young one.”
“Charmer,” she said, pretending to be offended. “Did you just call me old?”
“Not at all!” I grinned.
Nicole nudged me away and hugged Granny. “I’m stealing her,” she declared.
Granny laughed, hugging her warmly. The sound felt like home.
As we carried our bags inside, I tried to shake the uneasiness I’d felt on the road—the staring villagers, the strange charms. But something about this visit already felt… different.
And deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever the villagers were afraid of, it was waiting for us too.
