THE CURSE OF THE BLACK MOON

2.STRANGE HAPPENINGS

Chapter 2: Strange Happenings

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across Black Hollow. Manuel awoke the next morning to the soft rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds, but there was an undercurrent of unease in the air. The locals had seemed friendly enough in the tavern, but he could sense their lingering apprehension. Curiosity drove him to explore the woods, where the mysteries of the night before tugged at his mind.

After a quick breakfast at the small diner on Main Street, he set off toward the forest. The trees loomed tall and ancient, their gnarled branches twisting like skeletal fingers against the pale sky. As he stepped deeper into the woods, the chatter of birds fell silent, replaced by an eerie stillness that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

He wandered for hours, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves. Sunlight trickled through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Just as he was about to turn back, he stumbled upon a clearing. In the center lay a circle of stones, worn and weathered, hinting at a ritual long forgotten. A chill swept through him as he recalled the bartender’s warning about the past.

Suddenly, a rustling sound broke the silence, drawing his attention to the underbrush. His heart raced as he scanned the area, and then he saw it—a pair of glowing eyes watching him from the shadows. He held his breath, barely daring to move. The eyes blinked and vanished, swallowed by the foliage. The encounter left him shaken, but he shrugged it off as a trick of the light, convincing himself it was just a deer or some other woodland creature.

As Manuel made his way back to town, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being followed. A sense of dread hung in the air, thick and oppressive. He arrived at the diner, where the townsfolk were gathered, their conversations low and tense. The bartender from the night before was there, his face drawn and serious.

“Did you hear about Old Man Thompson?” the bartender asked, his voice gravelly. “He found his livestock mutilated last night. They say it looks like a beast did it.”

Gasps filled the room, and eyes widened in fear. “Not again,” whispered one woman, clutching her apron. “It’s happening again.”

Manuel's pulse quickened as he listened. “What do you mean, ‘again’?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

“Years ago, before I moved here,” the bartender replied, “there were reports of livestock going missing, and some townsfolk vanished without a trace. They said it was a werewolf, but people stopped believing those tales after a while.”

The tension in the room thickened, and whispers of the beast’s return spread like wildfire. “What about the full moon?” another patron chimed in. “It’s just a few days away.”

Manuel’s mind raced. Was there a connection between the wolf’s tales and the strange occurrences? He needed to learn more. After finishing his meal, he approached the bartender again. “Where can I find more information about the town’s history? About Elias?”

The bartender studied him for a moment before nodding toward the old library at the edge of town. “There’s a collection of records and books there. Just be careful. Some things are best left buried.”

As he stepped outside, the air felt heavier, charged with anticipation. The town seemed to hold its breath, waiting for something to happen. With determination burning in his chest, Manuel headed toward the library, ready to uncover the truth behind the curse of Black Hollow.