Whispers Of The Hollow

s of th

he Town That

their skeletal branches clawing at the overcast sky. Naomi sat in the back seat of her mother

d moving

a restoration project at Blackwood Manor, the decaying Victorian estate that lo

lieving in new begin

on the roadside: a rusted iron plaque, hal

O BLACKWO

istory, a to

ad spray-painted in d

OWN OF S

tore her gaze away from the sign, bu

gs, their rooftops heavy with moss and age. Gas lamps lined the sidewalks, their

dowed and watchful. They whispered

in was paper-thin, stretched over sharp cheekbones, but her eyes we

Naomi couldn't hear the words

uldn't h

s worse than

like a mouth waiting to swallow her whole. The mansion's windows

t of the car, taking in the towering spires and intricate Go

r loved most-bringing o

s weren't mean

lars at the gate, shivering at how

she

e, nearly worn away

r Blac

in smaller scr

forgotten. Fo

heart

Eleanor

eel like she was

Blackwood Mano

r peeled like ancient skin, and the chandeliers

y part of the house still livable. The west wing-the oldest

arvings on the ceiling. The wind outside howled through

the w

oice, just at th

ao

d. The room was empty. The door was

whisper c

to leave... befor

he sound o

m the h

side th

at as she pressed her ear against

tsteps

n a sof

he oth

blood

t wing was supp