Echoes of the Forgotten

It was supposed to be just another ordinary day. Arlene woke up to the shrill beeping of her alarm clock, rolled out of bed, and glanced at the pale winter light spilling through her curtains. She groaned, her body protesting against the thought of moving. With a sigh, she stumbled toward the bathroom.

Her morning routine was as mundane as always — brush teeth, wash face, coffee. But as Arlene reached for her keys to leave for work, a strange sensation washed over her. The air in her small apartment felt... different. It wasn’t anything she could pinpoint. Just a faint sense that something was slightly off, like the faint buzz of a fluorescent light you don’t notice until everything else goes silent.

Shrugging it off, Arlene stepped outside. The crisp January air bit at her cheeks, and she tightened her scarf. Her apartment complex was quiet, the usual sounds of neighbors getting ready or children running around conspicuously absent.

She glanced at her watch. 8:30 a.m. Peak rush hour. The street should have been bustling with life — cars honking, people shouting, the ever-present rumble of the city. Instead, the world around her was eerily still.

The familiar streets of Pinegrove felt alien. The coffee shop on the corner, where she stopped every morning for a latte, had its lights off and doors locked. The windows of the bookstore across the street were dark. Arlene paused, her stomach knotting. This wasn’t right. Pinegrove was never quiet, not even in the early hours of dawn. She pulled out her phone to check for news — maybe there was a power outage or some kind of emergency.

No signal.

The knot in her stomach tightened as she glanced around, her footsteps echoing in the unnatural silence. A deep sense of unease crept over her. She turned down Main Street, her pace quickening. The storefronts were all the same — dark, lifeless. Even the stoplights were frozen, stuck on red. The whole town seemed frozen in place, like a diorama.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice trembling. The sound bounced off the buildings and faded into the stillness. No one answered.

Arlene’s pulse quickened as she approached the intersection where Main Street met Elm. She stopped in her tracks, her breath catching. A man stood in the middle of the street, his back to her. His silhouette was stark against the gray sky, motionless.

“Hey!” Arlene called, relief flooding her voice. “Do you know what’s going on?”

The man didn’t move.

Arlene hesitated, glancing around. She took a cautious step closer. “Excuse me, are you okay?”

Still, no response.

She drew nearer, swallowing the knot of fear tightening in her throat. “Sir? I need help! Please, say something!”

The man’s head twitched, and for a moment, she thought he was going to turn around. Instead, a sound escaped him — a faint, guttural groan, low and distorted, like static on a broken radio.

“Sir?” Arlene said again, her voice shaking.

The groan grew louder, splitting into a garbled, inhuman cacophony that sent shivers racing down her spine. As she reached within a few feet of him, she gasped. His skin was pale, almost translucent, like he was carved from wax. His cloudy, unfocused eyes twitched in her direction, but there was no recognition in them.

“God… no…” she whispered.

The man’s body jerked violently, his arms twitching at unnatural angles. Then, with a sudden lurch, he took a step toward her, the motion robotic and stiff.

Arlene stumbled back, her heart hammering in her chest. “Stay away!” she cried.

The man didn’t respond. He took another step, then another, his movements gaining speed.

Arlene turned and ran.

She didn’t stop running until her legs burned and her lungs ached. She darted down side streets and alleys, trying to shake the image of the man’s lifeless eyes. When she finally stopped, she found herself in the park near the center of town. It was always bustling with families, joggers, and dog walkers.

It was empty.

The playground stood silent, the swings swaying gently in the wind. Arlene doubled over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her mind raced. What the hell was happening?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Arlene whipped around, her eyes scanning the park. At first, she saw nothing. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement. A figure emerged from the tree line — a child, no older than ten, wearing a red hoodie.

Arlene's heart leapt. “Hey! Are you okay?” she called out, hurrying toward the child.

The boy didn’t answer. He stood there, staring at her, his face partially hidden by the hood. As Arlene drew closer, her relief turned to dread.

Hey,” she said again, her voice softer. “Where are your parents? Are you hurt?”

The boy didn’t move, but his head tilted slightly, as if trying to understand her words. Arlene crouched down to his level. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Can you tell me your name?”

For a moment, she thought he was about to speak. His lips parted, but the sound that came out wasn’t words. It was a guttural, garbled noise, like a broken wind-up toy struggling to play a tune.

Arlene’s blood ran cold. “What… what’s wrong with you?” she whispered, backing away.

The boy raised a trembling hand and pointed behind her.

Arlene froze, her breath hitching. Slowly, she turned.

Figures were emerging from the trees — men, women, children — all with the same blank expressions and cloudy eyes. They moved slowly, their steps jerky and uneven, like marionettes controlled by unseen strings.

“No,” Arlene whispered, shaking her head. “This can’t be happening.”

The boy took a step forward, his head twitching violently to the side as he emitted another guttural sound. The figures behind him moved closer, their pace quickening.

Arlene’s panic surged. She turned and bolted.

By the time Arlene stopped, she was back on Main Street, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The town felt even more unfamiliar now, the once-cozy streets twisted into a surreal nightmare. She stumbled into a diner, the bell above the door jingling weakly.

The interior was just as lifeless as the streets. The smell of coffee and frying bacon that usually greeted her was absent. The booths were empty, the counter unmanned.

Arlene collapsed into a chair, her hands shaking. She pressed her palms to her temples, trying to steady her breathing. She had to think. Had to figure out what was going on.

A faint noise broke the silence. Arlene froze, her ears straining. It was a soft, wet sound, like something dragging across the floor. She turned her head slowly, her eyes darting to the kitchen door.

The sound grew louder. Closer.

Arlene's heart pounded as she rose to her feet, backing away from the door. Her eyes darted around the diner, searching for an exit. Just as she reached the back door, the kitchen door creaked open.

A figure emerged. Its body was twisted, grotesque. Its skin was mottled and sagging, its limbs unnaturally long. It moved on all fours, its head tilted at an unnatural angle. Its mouth hung open, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

Arlene let out a strangled scream and threw open the back door, sprinting into the alley. The creature let out a guttural hiss and gave chase.

Arlene ran until her legs gave out, collapsing in a heap on the sidewalk. She couldn’t hear the creature anymore, but she didn’t dare stop moving. She dragged herself to her feet, her vision swimming. The world around her felt like a distorted version of reality, like a dream she couldn’t wake up from.

As she stumbled down the street, she caught sight of the library. The doors were open, and faint light spilled out onto the steps. Desperate for shelter, Arlene hurried inside.

The library’s interior was dimly lit, the air thick with dust. Arlene collapsed into a chair, her body trembling. She had to figure out what was going on. Why was the town empty? What were those... things?

A voice broke the silence. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Arlene jumped, her head snapping toward the sound. An elderly woman stood in the shadows, her face partially obscured. She wore a tattered cardigan and clutched a book to her chest.

“Who — who are you?” Arlene stammered.

The woman stepped closer, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of fear and pity. “You don’t belong here. None of this is real.”

Arlene’s heart raced. “What do you mean? What’s happening?”

The woman’s gaze flickered toward the entrance, her hands tightening around the book. “They’ll find you if you stay. You don’t want that.”

“Who? Those… those things out there?” Arlene asked, her voice trembling.

The woman nodded slowly. “They aren’t alive, not the way you think. They’re remnants. Shadows of what used to be.”

Arlene’s mind reeled. “Shadows? I don’t understand. What is this place?”

The woman hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “This place… it’s a memory. A fragment of something long gone. You’ve stumbled where you don’t belong.”

Arlene took a shaky step back. “I don’t… I just want to go home.”

The woman’s expression softened, but her voice was urgent. “Then you must leave. Now. If they catch you, you’ll be trapped here forever.”

A faint noise echoed from the far end of the library — the sound of approaching footsteps.

Arlene’s breath caught. “What do I do?”

The woman pointed toward the back of the library, where a faint light glowed. “Through there. Hurry.”

Arlene hesitated, glancing between the glowing doorway and the woman. “What about you? Can’t you come with me?”

The woman’s face darkened. “I’ve been here too long. There’s no leaving for me.”

The footsteps grew louder.

“Go!” the woman hissed.

Without another word, Arlene bolted toward the light. She didn’t look back, even as the sound of footsteps turned into the guttural hisses of the creatures.

The light enveloped her, and for a moment, everything was blindingly white. When her vision cleared, she found herself back in her apartment. The familiar sights and sounds of Pinegrove surrounded her — the hum of traffic, the chatter of neighbors. It was as if nothing had happened.

Arlene sank to the floor, her body trembling. She didn’t know what she had just experienced, but one thing was certain- Pinegrove would never feel the same again.