#ReedsyWicked - Finding Selene

The storm had settled when I reached the edge of the small, forgotten cliff of Black Hollow. Clinging to the very edge of a vast forest, Black Hollow was a place most avoided. Its darkened streets and whispering pines concealed secrets, tales of strange events, and mysterious disappearances. But I had a purpose in coming here, a task I couldn't shake, and one person I needed answers from.

The last message from my sister, Selene, had led me here. It was cryptic, chilling, and unlike Selene. The message had read, simply: "They’re watching. Don’t come."

But I couldn’t turn back. The only family I had left was in trouble, and no warning would stop me.

As I drove past the dimly lit houses, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the town itself was watching me. Shadows lurked behind curtains, and now and then, an old, unblinking pair of eyes would peer out at my car as I passed.

After driving in circles for nearly an hour, I finally found the address I’d scrawled in my notebook. A small cottage stood alone at the edge of town, half-buried in mist. The house looked neglected, almost abandoned. Windows hung loosely on their hinges, and thick ivy clung to its stone walls, twisting toward the chimney like fingers reaching for warmth.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the car door and stepped out. My boots crunched on the gravel as I approached, my heart pounding louder with each step. I hesitated before knocking but was interrupted by a faint voice.

“Mara.”

I spun around, only to find no one. I called out, “Selene?”

No reply. Just the faint rustle of leaves and the ominous quiet of Black Hollow’s streets.

Shaking off the chill, I approached the front door and knocked. The sound echoed inside, and then silence fell again, thick and heavy. I tried the knob; it turned easily, and the door swung open with a soft creak. The house was cold and musty. I flipped the switch, but the lights stayed dark.

My flashlight cut through the darkness, illuminating the sparse living room. The couch was overturned, and shards of a shattered vase lay scattered across the floor. Someone had left in a hurry—or had been taken.

I moved toward the narrow hallway, calling Selene’s name softly. My voice echoed back, hollow and alone. As I approached the last door, something caught my eye—a shadow, too large to belong to her, flickering briefly before vanishing.

My fingers trembled as I pushed open the door. The room was empty, save for a small desk littered with torn pages. I sifted through them, my heart pounding. They were filled with Selene’s handwriting—ramblings, strange phrases like “the watchers” and “the shadows know.” But the words that stood out most scrawled repeatedly, were "The wicked ones see all."

A faint sound broke the silence. The floorboards creaked behind me.

I spun around, the flashlight raised, but the hallway was empty. Still, I felt it—an oppressive presence, something watching me from the shadows. And then, in the faintest of whispers, I heard my sister’s voice.

“Leave now, before it’s too late.”

The words chilled me to the bone, but instead of retreating, I whispered, “Selene, where are you?”

There was no response, only the lingering weight of those words. I took a step back, my mind racing. Just as I turned to leave, I saw it—a figure, cloaked in shadow, standing at the end of the hallway, face obscured, yet somehow aware of me.

Panic surged, and I stumbled backward, tripping over scattered debris. The figure moved closer, its silent steps heavy, and I knew I couldn’t stay. I scrambled to my feet, rushing down the stairs and out the door, my heart hammering as I fled.

Once outside, I leaned against my car, gasping for breath. The night was eerily quiet, as though the town held its breath, waiting for my next move. I considered leaving, driving far from Black Hollow, leaving my sister behind and never looking back.

I cannot leave. I need to find Selene. The strange figure lingered in my thoughts.

Determined, I headed for the town’s library, hoping to find anything that could explain my sister’s descent into this strange paranoia. The library is the only last known place to me that I am certain Selene was at. Selene has come to the library with a group of friends. The friends had returned home without Selene. Inside, the librarian—a thin, gaunt woman with cold, piercing eyes—looked at me with suspicion. Still, I pressed on, asking about old records, local history, anything that might give me a clue.

The librarian seemed reluctant but eventually brought me to a locked archive room, warning me that some things were better left in the past.

As I pored through the old files, a disturbing pattern began to emerge. Every decade, someone in Black Hollow vanished. No explanations, no clues. The townspeople called it “The Mark of the Wicked”—the curse that supposedly protected Black Hollow by demanding a soul in exchange for safety from something far worse. The missing individuals were referred to as "the marked," and they were never seen again.

One entry in particular caught my attention: a girl, around Selene’s age, who had disappeared nearly ten years ago. The name had faded with time, but her face—a face that looked hauntingly familiar—stared back from the yellowed paper. She looked almost like Selene.

My breath caught as I noticed a note scribbled in the margin: "The Wicked mark their own. She will not be the last."

Just then, the library lights flickered, and I felt a familiar chill creeping up my spine. The librarian had vanished, and the oppressive silence returned. I closed the file, slipped it into my bag, and bolted for the exit.

But as I reached the door, the lights went out entirely, plunging me into darkness. And from somewhere in the shadows, a low whisper filled the room.

“They’ve marked you too, Mara.”

The words sent a shiver through me. I forced the door open and dashed outside, my mind reeling. Every corner, every shadow, felt like it held eyes watching me, tracking my every move.

Back in my car, I gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to calm myself. I considered my options. I could try to leave, flee this cursed town and its eerie secrets. But the nagging thought of Selene being out there, trapped by the very curse I had uncovered, held me back.

Fueled by determination, I headed toward the woods at the edge of town. If there was any place where the “marked” were taken, I sensed it would be somewhere deep within the forest, hidden from the prying eyes of the living. My flashlight cut through the mist as I walked, the silence pressing in around me.

After what felt like hours of trekking through the dark, I came upon a clearing. In the center stood a circle of ancient stones, each one engraved with symbols I didn’t recognize. The air was thick, oppressive, and charged with a feeling of dread.

And in the center of the stone circle, bound and barely conscious, lay Selene.

I rushed forward, relief and fear flooding me as I reached my sister. “Selene!” I whispered urgently, untying her bonds. “We have to get out of here.”

Selene’s eyes fluttered open, filled with terror. “Mara... they know you’re here.”

A deep, resonant laugh echoed around the clearing, chilling me to the bone. I turned, finding the figure from before—a tall, shadowy entity that seemed to absorb the light around it. Its voice was a whisper that clawed at my mind.

“You think you can take what belongs to us?”

I tightened my grip on Selene, backing away. “She’s not yours,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.

The figure tilted its head, amused. “The Wicked always claim what’s theirs. And now, Mara, you are marked too.”

As the figure advanced, I remembered the notes I’d read—the ritual, the markings. I began chanting words from a fragment of an old incantation I’d found in the files, hoping it would be enough to keep the entity at bay. The air thickened, charged with energy as I spoke, each word trembling from my lips.

The figure paused, its form flickering, a low growl resonating through the forest. For a moment, I felt a glimmer of hope.

But then the entity laughed, a dark, triumphant sound. "You can’t fight the Wicked, Mara. This is our realm."

Desperation surged, and I did the only thing I could think of: I lunged at one of the ancient stones, smashing it with all my strength. The stone shattered, and a blinding light erupted from the fragments, filling the clearing and pushing the shadowy figure back.

The light seemed to tear through the air, and the figure let out a piercing shriek as it dissolved into mist, dispersing into the darkness.

The oppressive silence returned, broken only by the soft rustling of leaves.

I helped Selene to her feet, supporting her as we made our way back to the car. As we drove away from Black Hollow, the weight lifted, the feeling of eyes watching us slowly fading.

But as we passed the town's welcome sign, I glanced back, and for a split second, I thought I saw the shadowy figure standing by the roadside, watching us with dark, unblinking eyes.

Black Hollow was behind us, but the mark of the Wicked would never truly fade.