Whisper in the dark
1444 Words
The bells jingled faintly in the cold night air, growing softer until the eerie silence enveloped the square once more. Sheriff Elliot stood frozen, his hand still hovering near his holster. Beside him, Margot strained her eyes to peer into the shadows where the glowing red eyes had vanished.
“What was that?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
Elliot finally lowered his hand, shaking his head. “I don’t know. But whatever it was, it’s not something we’ve seen before.”
Margot took a step closer to him, her breath visible in the frosty air. “Do you still think this is some kind of prank?”
Elliot glanced at her, his jaw tightening. “Not anymore.”
A sudden gust of wind whipped through the square, rattling the garlands strung between lampposts and causing the massive Christmas tree to sway ever so slightly. Elliot motioned for Margot to follow him back toward his cruiser, the weight of what they’d just witnessed pressing down on them.
Inside the car, Elliot turned the heater up, but Margot’s shivering didn’t subside. She stared out the window, her mind racing.
“You mentioned Krampus earlier,” Elliot said finally, breaking the tense silence. “I brushed it off, but now… I’m not so sure.”
Margot turned to face him. “You think there’s a connection?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “But that thing—it wasn’t human. And it wasn’t an animal, either.”
Margot’s thoughts drifted to Sammy, the young boy she’d seen darting out of the library earlier. There’d been a strange look in his eyes, a mix of fear and determination. She remembered seeing a book tucked under his arm—something old and worn.
“I might have an idea of where to start,” she said.
---
Sammy was back in his room, the book spread open on his desk. He’d read through most of it by now, each page more unsettling than the last. The legends weren’t just stories—they were warnings.
His fingers traced the intricate illustrations on the next page: a row of children kneeling before a shadowy figure, their hands clasped in prayer. Above them, a chilling inscription read:
“Repent, and you may be spared.”
The image made his stomach churn. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes darting toward the window. Outside, the snow was falling softly, the glow from the streetlights casting long shadows across the yard.
Suddenly, a low creak sounded from the hallway. Sammy froze, his breath hitching.
“Liam?” he called, his voice trembling.
No answer.
He stood slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. The floorboards groaned under his feet as he approached the door. He hesitated for a moment before cracking it open, peering into the dimly lit hallway.
It was empty.
Relieved but still uneasy, Sammy turned back to his room. That’s when he noticed it—the book. It was no longer on his desk.
His pulse quickened as he scanned the room. There, on his bed, the book lay open, its pages fluttering as if caught in an invisible breeze.
Sammy swallowed hard, forcing himself to approach it. The page it had settled on showed a new illustration: a shadowy figure standing at the edge of a small town. Behind it, flames engulfed the buildings, and the townsfolk lay scattered on the ground, their faces twisted in terror.
Beneath the image, the text read:
“When the debt is not paid, he will take what is owed.”
A loud knock at the front door made him jump.
---
Margot stood on the porch, shivering as she waited for someone to answer. The house was quiet, the glow from the Christmas lights in the yard casting a warm, deceptive glow.
She knocked again, louder this time. After a moment, the door creaked open, and a young boy peered out.
“Sammy?” she asked, recognizing him from the library.
Sammy’s eyes widened. “You’re the lady from the library.”
“That’s right,” Margot said, her tone gentle. “I need to talk to you about that book you found.”
Sammy hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. “How do you know about the book?”
Margot took a step closer. “Because I think it might be connected to what’s happening in town. Please, Sammy—it’s important.”
Reluctantly, Sammy opened the door wider and let her in. He led her upstairs to his room, where the book still lay open on the bed.
Margot’s breath caught when she saw the illustration. She ran her fingers over the aged pages, her stomach twisting as she read the ominous words.
“Where did you find this?” she asked.
“In the library,” Sammy said. “It was in a box of old books in the back room. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then weird stuff started happening.”
Margot sat down on the edge of the bed, her mind racing. “This book—it talks about a pact. Something the town promised to Krampus a long time ago.”
Sammy nodded. “I think they stopped doing whatever they were supposed to do. And now he’s back.”
Margot looked at him, impressed by his insight. “You might be right. But why now? What changed?”
Sammy shrugged, his eyes darting nervously to the window. “I don’t know. But I think he’s watching us.”
Margot followed his gaze, a chill running down her spine. Outside, the snow fell steadily, blanketing the town in an eerie silence.
“We need to show this to the sheriff,” she said.
Sammy’s face fell. “You think he’ll believe us?”
“I don’t know,” Margot admitted. “But we have to try.”
---
Back at the sheriff’s office, Elliot was reviewing the evidence from Henry’s death. The photos of the claw marks haunted him, the jagged lines etched deep into the man’s flesh.
He’d seen injuries like this once before—years ago, when he was just a rookie. An old woman had been found in the woods outside town, her body torn apart. The case had been ruled as an animal attack, but the marks had never matched any known predator.
Elliot leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Something about this case felt too familiar, too personal.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up to see Margot and Sammy standing in the doorway, the boy clutching a large, leather-bound book.
“What’s this?” Elliot asked, motioning for them to come in.
Margot set the book on his desk, flipping it open to the pages about the pact. “This is the history of Winter’s Hollow, Sheriff. The real history.”
Elliot’s brow furrowed as he scanned the text, his expression growing darker with each passing moment.
“This can’t be real,” he said, though his tone lacked conviction.
“Look around you,” Margot countered. “Henry’s death. The disappearances. The shadows. If this isn’t real, then what’s your explanation?”
Elliot didn’t respond. Instead, he closed the book and stood, his jaw tight. “If this is true, then we’re dealing with something way out of our depth.”
Margot nodded. “We need to warn the town. If Krampus is really here, people need to know.”
Elliot hesitated, then shook his head. “We can’t just announce that a mythical creature is stalking the town. People will think we’ve lost it.”
“But they’ll be safer if they know,” Sammy piped up.
Elliot sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, stay inside and keep your doors locked. And if you see anything—anything at all—you call me.”
Margot and Sammy nodded, though they both knew staying safe wouldn’t be that simple.
---
Later that night, as the town slept, the bells began to ring again.
This time, they weren’t faint. They were loud and clear, echoing through the empty streets like a sinister warning.
In the square, the Christmas tree swayed in the wind, its lights flickering erratically. The shadowy figure appeared again, its massive frame shrouded in darkness.
It moved slowly, deliberately, its glowing red eyes scanning the silent town.
And then it spoke, its voice a low, guttural growl that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
“Winter’s Hollow, your time has come.”
- Writer
