The Whispers Beneath

Chapter 2: The Missing

The day after the sinkhole appeared, Blackwater Creek was buzzing with rumors. Evelyn sat at her cluttered desk, her fingers flying over her laptop keyboard. She was piecing together everything she’d learned—accounts from the hikers, Sheriff Dunne’s remarks, and the strange hum she’d felt. But no matter how much she wrote, her thoughts kept drifting back to the locket.

She turned it over in her hand, the initials A.H. glinting faintly in the light. It didn’t make sense. The last time she’d seen this, Amelia had been wearing it. How could it possibly have resurfaced after all these years, here of all places?

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Evelyn? You in there?”

It was Detective Marcus Kane, his voice muffled but firm.

“Come in,” she called.

Kane stepped inside, his dark eyes scanning the room. “Heard you were out at the sinkhole yesterday. Sheriff said you found something.”

Evelyn hesitated, then held up the locket. “This belonged to my sister. She disappeared fifteen years ago. I found it near the edge of the sinkhole.”

Kane frowned, taking the locket and examining it. “Could be a coincidence. Maybe someone dropped it recently.”

“She was wearing it the day she vanished,” Evelyn said, her voice sharp. “It’s not a coincidence.”

Kane handed it back, his expression unreadable. “I don’t believe in ghost stories, Hart. But… something’s off about that sinkhole. We’ve had three more missing person reports since it opened.”

Her heart sank. “Who?”

“Two hikers and a farmer. All vanished within a mile of the site. No signs of struggle, no tracks—just gone.”

Evelyn felt a chill crawl up her spine. “Do you think it’s connected?”

“I don’t know,” Kane admitted. “But it’s too much to ignore. Sheriff Dunne wants me to keep it quiet for now—last thing we need is a town-wide panic. But I figured you’d want to know.”

“Of course I do,” she said, already grabbing her notebook. “What’s next?”

Kane hesitated. “Look, I’m not supposed to involve you in this, but… if you’re going to poke around, you might as well make yourself useful. Meet me at the sinkhole tonight. Bring a flashlight.”

That evening, Evelyn arrived at the sinkhole with a sense of foreboding. The woods were unnervingly quiet, the usual hum of crickets and distant animal calls replaced by an oppressive silence. Kane was already there, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness.

“Glad you showed up,” he said, gesturing to her.

“What are we looking for?”

“Anything unusual?”

Evelyn snorted. “You mean aside from the giant hole in the ground?”

Kane gave her a grim look. “Trust me, it gets weirder.”

They stepped past the police tape and approached the sinkhole’s edge. The faint hum from before was stronger now, almost rhythmic, like a heartbeat. Evelyn’s skin prickled as she aimed her flashlight into the void.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered.

Kane nodded. “That’s what I wanted you to see.”

He gestured toward a jagged rock near the edge. Carved into its surface were strange, intricate symbols—circles within circles, intersecting lines, and what looked like claw marks.

“These weren’t here yesterday,” Kane said.

Evelyn crouched down, tracing the carvings with her fingers. They felt unnervingly fresh, as if they’d been etched only hours ago.

“What do they mean?”

“I don’t know,” Kane admitted. “But I’ve seen something like them before.”

Evelyn looked up sharply. “Where?”

Kane hesitated, then pulled a small notebook from his jacket. Flipping it open, he showed her a photo of an old, crumbling church wall covered in similar symbols.

“Found these a year ago at St. Mary’s. The place has been abandoned for decades. Locals say it’s cursed.”

“Why didn’t you report it?”

“Because I didn’t think it mattered. Until now.”

Before Evelyn could respond, a low, guttural growl echoed from the depths of the sinkhole. Both of them froze, their flashlights pointed at the void.

The growl grew louder, accompanied by the faint sound of whispers. Evelyn’s heart pounded as she strained to hear the words. They were faint, almost too quiet to understand, but one phrase stood out:

“She’s here.”