Dark Legacy

Chapter 3 – The Boy in the Trees

Alana didn’t sleep that night.

She stayed curled on the old bed with the letter clutched in her hand, the words echoing in her head over and over again. “Do not trust the boy in the woods.” But the question that haunted her more was—how did her grandmother know there would be one?

By morning, she needed air.

She threw on a flannel shirt, laced up her boots, and left the house through the back door, following the narrow path that led behind the property—past the shed, past the rusted fence, and into the woods.

The trees were skeletal this time of year, all bare limbs and shadows. Her boots crunched over leaves and twigs as she climbed a slope she barely remembered from childhood. Then she heard it:

A voice. Humming.

She froze.

There, in the clearing, stood a boy.

Tall, pale, with black curls falling just above his eyes. He was crouched by a stream, sketching something into the dirt with a stick. Alana was about to step back when he looked up—like he had felt her watching.

“You’re not from here,” he said, voice low but clear.

She didn’t answer.

“You’re Elvira’s granddaughter.”

That stopped her.

“How do you know that?”

The boy stood, brushing his hands against his jeans. “Everyone in Thornhollow knows. But I knew before they did.”

Alana’s stomach tightened. “Who are you?”

He stepped closer, the light cutting across his cheekbones like a sculpture.

“Elián.”

“And you live out here?”

“Something like that.” He paused. “I saw you yesterday. When you arrived. The house—woke up.”

“The house?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re asking the wrong questions, Alana.”

She shivered. “You know my name.”

He nodded.

“And my grandmother warned me not to trust you.”

This time, he laughed. Soft. Sad.

“She was right.”

…Chapter 4 – The Book Beneath the Floorboards

When Alana returned home, the sun was barely touching the horizon.

She locked the door behind her and pulled the curtains closed. The silence inside the house now felt heavier, like something old had been stirred awake. She couldn’t shake Elián’s words—or the way he’d looked at her when he said her name.

“The house woke up.”

In her grandmother’s room, she sat down again and opened the second letter.

> “The house holds memories. Some are buried. Some refuse to stay silent.”

The letter mentioned a hidden floorboard beneath the bed. Alana pulled back the rug and ran her fingers across the wood until she found a loose plank. It gave with a soft creak.

Inside the hollow space, she found a leather-bound book.

Its cover was engraved with strange runes. And when she opened it, the pages shifted on their own, stopping on a symbol drawn in red ink—a crescent moon with three dots above it.

She traced it with her finger.

The lights flickered.

The mirror across the room fogged up.

And a single word appeared on its surface:

**"He’s watching."**