Chapter 6 – Vanished
1024 Words
Whispers in the Hollow
by Manilyn Nalaunan
Chapter 6 – Vanished
Morning came reluctantly, as though the sun itself hesitated to rise over Hollow Creek.
The light was weak and colorless, barely filtering through the tall, oppressive pines that surrounded the cabin. It brought no warmth, no comfort. The cabin’s rooms were bathed in gray, the air damp and stale, as though the house had trapped the night inside and refused to let it go.
Lara was the first to stir. Her flashlight still sat cold in her hand, its beam long since faded when the batteries gave out. She pushed herself upright, stiff from the hours spent sitting half-awake, her eyes locked all night on the cellar door. The padlock remained intact, but its silence felt more threatening than its noises.
Her gaze drifted to her friends. May had finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, her face pale, lips parted. Claire lay curled tightly in her blanket, the skin around her eyes raw from crying. Ethan sat slumped against the wall, his knife still gripped in one hand, as though he had kept vigil until exhaustion claimed him.
And Jordan—
Lara’s heart jolted. Jordan’s sleeping bag was empty.
The blanket was tossed aside, the pillow dented where his head had been. At the foot of the bag, his sneakers sat neatly placed, exactly where he had kicked them off the night before.
“Jordan?” Lara whispered. Her voice was small, fragile, as though speaking too loudly might invite something from below the floorboards.
No answer.
She tried again, louder. “Jordan!”
The others stirred at her voice. Ethan jerked awake, blinking rapidly, then rubbed at his eyes. “What’s your problem?”
“He’s gone,” Lara said.
Claire sat up so quickly she nearly fell over. “What do you mean gone?”
“Look.” Lara pointed at the empty sleeping bag.
They all stared.
For a long moment, no one moved, as if their brains refused to process the simple absence of their friend. It was Ethan who scrambled to his feet first, stomping toward the door. He twisted the knob—it rattled, but the door didn’t budge. The heavy iron lock was still in place, the chain still fastened from the inside.
“Maybe he went out a window,” Ethan said, though his voice cracked on the words. He hurried to the nearest one, rattling it. The wooden frame was swollen tight, the old glass panes smeared with condensation. It hadn’t been touched.
May rubbed her face with both hands, her voice muffled. “People don’t just disappear.”
Claire’s breath was coming fast, shallow. “Then where is he?”
The question hung in the room like smoke. No one answered.
Lara walked toward Jordan’s things. His backpack sat untouched in the corner. His phone—though useless without service—was on top, exactly where he had left it. His wallet and keys were still tucked in the side pouch. He had nothing with him.
Her gaze fell back to the sneakers. Something about them made her chest tighten. They were placed side by side, neatly. Jordan had always been careless, kicking his shoes off without thought. Last night had been no different. But now, they were arranged with precision, as though someone—or something—had moved them after he was gone.
Lara crouched down, her fingers brushing the laces. The shoes were cold, damp with dew. A faint print of soil stained the floorboards where they rested, though Jordan hadn’t gone outside. The earth looked wrong, too dark, as though scooped from deeper ground.
She pulled her hand back quickly.
Ethan paced the room like a caged animal, muttering under his breath. “This doesn’t make sense. He’s screwing with us, he has to be. Some sick prank.”
“Ethan,” Lara snapped, sharper than she intended. “Look at his stuff. He didn’t take anything. Not his phone. Not his shoes. He wouldn’t just—just walk out barefoot into the woods.”
The silence that followed was thick with dread.
A faint sound rose from the floor.
They all froze.
It was soft at first, muffled—as if coming from beneath the boards. A voice. A whisper.
“…Lara…”
Her blood turned to ice. She knew that voice.
Jordan.
“Did you hear that?” Claire whimpered, clutching May’s arm.
Lara dropped to her knees, pressing her ear to the floor. The wood was cold against her skin. The voice came again, clearer this time, vibrating up through the beams.
“…help me…”
She jerked back, eyes wide, her breath catching in her throat. “It’s him,” she gasped. “He’s in the cellar.”
“No.” Claire shook her head violently, tears brimming. “No, he can’t be. The door was locked all night. We watched it.”
The whisper returned, more urgent. “…down here…”
Ethan backed away, his face pale. “That’s not him. Don’t you get it? That thing—it’s using him.”
Lara’s heart pounded. She didn’t know what to believe. The voice had been Jordan’s, exactly as she remembered. The same cadence, the same tremor. But there was something else beneath it, a faint echo, like a second voice woven into the first.
Claire pressed her hands over her ears. “Stop it. Please stop.”
The whispering faded, leaving only the sound of the wind outside and their own uneven breathing.
May spoke at last, her voice hollow. “If he’s really down there… then how did he get in?”
No one answered.
Lara’s eyes drifted again to the cellar door. The padlock still hung in place, gleaming faintly in the weak daylight. Solid. Untouched.
But she could swear it looked different somehow, as though the wood around it had swelled, warped slightly—as though the door had been opened and closed again from the inside.
She hugged her arms tightly around herself, shivering despite the warmth of her sweater.
Jordan was gone.
And whatever had taken him wasn’t finished.
- Writer
