WELCOME TO NEVERLIGHT VILLAGE EP#7
914 Words
EPISODE#7 The Girl In The Window
Jay was the first to say it.
“I vote we don’t talk to her. I really vote that.”
Marcus nodded. “Seconded.”
John looked up from his notes. “It’s Rule #5: Do not speak to the girl in the window. But technically… we don’t even know where that window is.”
Jay paced. “Okay, but the rule doesn’t say ‘don’t go near her,’ it says ‘don’t speak.’ So we can look… just not talk.”
Marcus shook his head. “Why does that sound like the setup to a tragic t****k clip?”
Jay shrugged. “Because it is.”
The three left the house after making sure they still had flashlights, batteries, and enough courage to fake being brave. The village remained stuck in its eternal, moody twilight. The fog clung to every corner like it paid rent.
They passed the same twisted trees and broken lampposts as before. Everything felt like it was breathing behind their backs.
John stopped.
“There,” he whispered.
A house at the end of the street.
Two stories.
Crumbling porch.
And in the second-floor window — a silhouette.
Long hair.
White dress.
Standing still.
Facing out.
Jay squinted. “Okay, that’s... unsettling.”
Marcus clutched a stick. “I’m armed.”
John muttered, “With a twig.”
Jay said, “Let’s just go near, not talk. We’re researchers, not idiots.”
They stepped closer.
The figure didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t breathe.
She just watched.
Jay cupped his hands to his mouth. “HEY! YOU GOOD?”
Marcus slapped him. “You i***t! You just broke the rule!”
“I didn’t talk to her. I talked about her. Totally different.”
John facepalmed. “You literally yelled at her.”
The girl in the window tilted her head.
Marcus stepped back. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”
Suddenly, the front door of the house creaked open on its own.
Jay muttered, “Okay, I vote we leave.”
John pointed. “Look. The moon again. It shifted. Just a sliver. Something’s happening.”
Marcus hesitated. “Maybe we can fix this before it escalates. Like—apologize?”
Jay: “You want to say sorry to a window ghost?”
John, already heading up the porch: “No. I want to understand her.”
Jay turned to Marcus. “We’re gonna die because he wants to understand things.”
Inside the house, dust blanketed everything. Picture frames hung crooked. The stairs groaned under their feet as they climbed toward the window room.
Halfway up, they heard it.
Thump.
From the upstairs hallway.
Thump.
Then a soft humming sound. A girl’s voice. Low. Sweet. Haunting.
Jay whispered, “She’s singing. I hate this. I love musicals, but this is the wrong genre.”
Marcus held up the stick. “We come in peace!”
The door at the top of the stairs slowly creaked open.
The room was empty.
Except for a small music box turning on its own.
The window was open.
And the girl?
Gone.
John walked to the window. “She’s not here.”
Jay looked around. “Where’d she go? Ghosts don’t walk off set.”
Marcus said, “Maybe she’s on break?”
Jay snapped his fingers. “No — look.”
On the floor was a small note. Crumpled. Old.
John picked it up and read aloud:
“The first voice ends the night.
The second seals your fate.
The third… you must not hear.”
The three stood in silence.
Then…
The window slammed shut.
The door locked behind them.
And the room grew cold.
Jay pointed at the corner. “Uh… guys?”
There she was.
The girl.
Standing in the corner, facing the wall.
Long black hair. Pale dress. Bare feet.
Humming the same tune as before — but now backwards.
Marcus whispered, “Don’t speak. Don’t speak. Don’t speak.”
Jay nodded quickly, hands over his mouth.
The girl turned her head slightly — not fully, just enough that one eye was visible.
Black.
Endless.
And she started to walk toward them.
John stepped forward.
“Wait,” he said suddenly. “She’s not attacking. She’s… mouthing something.”
They all stared.
The girl was indeed whispering.
But no sound came out.
Just lips moving.
Jay suddenly remembered the music box — he turned it off.
The humming stopped.
And so did she.
Frozen mid-step.
Her mouth closed.
And the door unlocked.
They bolted.
Back out the house, down the street, into their safe-but-definitely-haunted living room.
Jay threw himself on the couch. “Okay. Never do that again.”
Marcus nodded, trembling. “Agreed.”
John opened his notebook.
Girl in window = guardian? warning?
Three voices — prophecy?
Music box = trigger
Voice triggers = shift in dimension/time?
He looked up. “Guys. I think we just dodged the second voice.”
Marcus muttered, “What happens at the third?”
Jay whispered, “We don’t want to find out.”
That night — or whatever “night” meant anymore — the moon shifted just a little more. Enough that it looked unnatural. Like it had a secret.
Out the window, the girl was back.
In the second-floor window.
Of a different house.
Watching.
And this time, her mouth was moving again.
But they didn’t dare listen.
[To Be Continued…]
EPISODE#7 ENDS HERE
- Writer
