Mara’s boots crunched through the frost-covered grass as she made her way to the barn. The pre-dawn air bit at her cheeks, and her breath formed small clouds in front of her face. She pulled her jacket tighter, quickening her pace.
As she neared the weathered red structure, an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Something was off. The horses weren’t nickering their usual morning greetings. In fact, the farm was eerily quiet.
Mara’s hand trembled slightly as she unlatched the heavy wooden door. It creaked open, and the musty scent of hay and animals washed over her. But there was something else—a coppery tang that made her nose wrinkle.
“Easy, girl,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. She flicked on the lights, and her heart plummeted.
Blood. So much blood.
It coated the straw-covered floor in dark pools and splattered the walls in gruesome arcs. And there, in the center of it all, lay Buttercup—or what was left of her. The cow’s belly had been torn open, entrails spilling out in a horrific tangle.
Mara’s knees buckled, and she gripped the door frame to keep from collapsing. Bile rose in her throat as her eyes darted around the barn, taking in the carnage. Three of their prized dairy cows lay mutilated, their eyes glassy and unseeing.
A choked sob escaped her lips as she fumbled for her phone with shaking hands. She had to call her brother. Had to call the police. This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not to them.
As if in a daze, Mara stumbled out of the barn and sank to her knees in the damp grass. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, bathing the world in soft golden light that felt obscene in the face of such brutality.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, trembling and staring at nothing, before she heard the crunch of tires on gravel. A battered blue pickup skidded to a stop, and her brother Luke leaped out, his face etched with worry.
“Mara! What’s wrong? I got your message—” He broke off as he took in her ashen face and the dark stains on her jeans. “Oh, God. What happened?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she pointed wordlessly at the barn.
Luke’s expression hardened as he strode toward the structure. Mara wanted to warn him, to tell him not to look, but she couldn’t make her voice work. She heard his sharp intake of breath, followed by a string of colorful curses.
He emerged a moment later, his face grim. “I’m calling Sheriff Holbrook,” he said, pulling out his phone. “This is… Christ, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Mara nodded numbly, still unable to form coherent thoughts. As Luke spoke in clipped tones to the sheriff, she found herself fixating on the smallest details—the way the dew sparkled on a blade of grass, the distant call of a mourning dove. Anything to avoid thinking about what lay inside that barn.
It wasn’t long before the sound of sirens pierced the morning quiet. Two police cruisers pulled up, followed closely by Animal Control and the local vet. Mara watched with detached fascination as people swarmed around her, asking questions she couldn’t quite process.
“Miss Lawson? Miss Lawson, can you hear me?” A gentle hand on her shoulder snapped her back to reality. She blinked, focusing on the kind face of Dr. Reeves, the town veterinarian.
“Y-yes,” she managed. “I’m sorry, I…”
“It’s alright,” he said softly. “You’re in shock. Let’s get you inside and warmed up, okay? The police will want to talk to you, but it can wait a few minutes.”
Mara nodded gratefully, allowing Dr. Reeves and Luke to help her to her feet. As they made their way to the farmhouse, she caught snippets of conversation from the gathered officials.
“…never seen an animal attack like this…” “…almost surgical precision in some places…” “…no signs of forced entry…”
She shuddered, trying to block out the words. This was a nightmare. It had to be. She’d wake up any moment now, safe in her bed, and everything would be normal again.
But as Luke settled her onto the worn sofa and pressed a steaming mug of tea into her hands, Mara knew with sickening certainty that this was all too real. And somehow, deep in her bones, she sensed that this was only the beginning.
Sheriff Dan Holbrook removed his hat as he entered the Lawson family’s cozy kitchen, his weathered face creased with concern. He’d known Mara and Luke since they were kids, had watched them take over the farm after their parents passed. They were good people, salt of the earth types who’d never caused any trouble.
Which made this situation all the more baffling.
“How you holding up, Mara?” he asked gently, settling into a chair across from her at the kitchen table.
She gave a wan smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve been better, Sheriff.”
Dan nodded sympathetically. “I know this is difficult, but I need to ask you a few questions. Can you walk me through what happened this morning?”
Mara took a deep breath, her hands wrapped tightly around her mug. “I went out to do the morning milking, same as always. But when I got to the barn…” She swallowed hard. “It was like a slaughterhouse in there. Buttercup, Daisy, and Clover—they were just… torn apart.”
“Did you notice anything unusual in the days leading up to this? Any strange noises, unfamiliar vehicles in the area?”
She shook her head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was normal yesterday when I locked up for the night.”
Dan frowned, jotting notes in his small pad. “And the barn was still locked when you arrived this morning?”
“Yes, I had to unlatch it myself.”
“What about tracks? Any signs of large predators in the area recently?”
Luke, who had been leaning against the counter, spoke up. “We’ve had some coyotes, but nothing big enough to do… that.” He gestured vaguely toward the barn. “And coyotes don’t usually go after full-grown cattle, especially not three at once.”
The sheriff nodded grimly. “You’re right about that. We’ve got Animal Control and the state wildlife folks taking a look, but preliminary findings are… inconclusive.”
“What does that mean?” Mara asked, a note of frustration creeping into her voice.
Dan sighed, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “It means the injuries don’t match any known predator in these parts. The precision of some of the cuts, the lack of tracks… it’s not adding up to a typical animal attack.”
A heavy silence fell over the kitchen. Mara and Luke exchanged worried glances.
“So what are you saying?” Luke finally asked. “If it wasn’t an animal, then…”
“I’m not saying anything definitive yet,” Dan said carefully. “We’re exploring all possibilities. But I want you both to be on high alert. Lock everything up tight at night, and call me immediately if you see or hear anything suspicious.”
Mara nodded numbly, her mind reeling. If it wasn’t an animal attack, what could have done this? The alternative—that a person could be responsible for such brutality—was almost too horrifying to contemplate.
As if reading her thoughts, the sheriff leaned forward, his voice low and serious. “Listen, I know this community. We look out for each other. I’ve got extra patrols in the area, and I’ll be checking in regularly. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Luke walked the sheriff out, leaving Mara alone with her thoughts. She stared out the window at the barn, now cordoned off with yellow police tape. The morning’s events felt surreal, like a bad dream she couldn’t shake.
A chill ran down her spine as a new thought occurred to her. What if this was just the beginning? What if whoever—or whatever—had done this came back?
For the first time in her life, Mara felt like a stranger on her own land. The farm that had always been her sanctuary now seemed full of shadows and hidden threats. As she watched the last of the official vehicles pull away, leaving her and Luke alone on the vast property, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.
Something had changed in Whispering Pines. An invisible line had been crossed, and there was no going back.
The next few days passed in a haze of police interviews, insurance paperwork, and restless nights. Mara found herself jumping at every creak of the old farmhouse, every rustle in the fields. Luke had taken to sleeping on the couch, his hunting rifle propped nearby—a fact that both reassured and unsettled her.
It was on the fourth night after the incident that Mara jolted awake, her heart pounding. For a moment, she lay frozen, straining to hear what had disturbed her sleep. Then it came again—a low, keening wail that raised the hair on the back of her neck.
She slipped out of bed, padding softly to the window. The full moon bathed the farm in silvery light, casting long shadows across the yard. At first, she saw nothing out of place. Then a movement caught her eye.
Near the edge of the cornfield, something large and dark was moving. It loped on all fours, but its gait was… wrong somehow. Too fluid, too purposeful to be any animal she knew.
Mara’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to call out to Luke, to grab her phone and dial 911. But she found herself rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the creature.
It paused at the field’s edge, and for one heart-stopping moment, Mara could have sworn it turned to look directly at her window. Then, in a blink, it was gone, melting into the shadows of the corn.
She stumbled back from the window, her legs shaky. This time, she did call out. “Luke! Luke, wake up!”
She heard a thump and a muffled curse from downstairs, followed by hurried footsteps. Luke burst into her room, rifle in hand, his eyes wild. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“There’s something out there,” Mara whispered, pointing toward the window. “In the cornfield. I saw it—God, Luke, it was huge.”
Luke crossed to the window, peering out into the night. After a long moment, he shook his head. “I don’t see anything now. Are you sure—”
“I know what I saw,” Mara snapped, more harshly than she intended. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “It wasn’t… normal. The way it moved…”
Her brother’s expression softened. He set the rifle down and pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. Maybe it was just a shadow, or—”
Mara pulled away, frustration building. “Don’t patronize me, Luke. I’m not hysterical, and I’m not seeing things. There is something out there.”
Before Luke could respond, a new sound cut through the night—the terrified bleating of sheep. They shared a look of alarm before racing downstairs and out onto the porch.
The sheep pen was in chaos. The animals were huddled in one corner, pressing against each other in panic. And there, on the opposite side of the fence, stood the creature Mara had seen.
In the moonlight, its form was clearer, though no less nightmarish. It stood nearly as tall as a man, but hunched and twisted. Matted fur covered its body, and its face… Mara’s mind recoiled from the sight. It was a grotesque mixture of wolf and something almost human, with gleaming eyes that reflected the moonlight like mirrors.
Luke raised his rifle, but the creature was faster. With a snarl that sounded like tearing metal, it leaped the fence in a single bound and vanished into the night.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The only sound was the panicked bleating of the sheep and their own ragged breathing.
“What… what the hell was that?” Luke finally managed, his voice shaky.
Mara shook her head, unable to form words. Her mind was spinning, trying to reconcile what she’d seen with everything she thought she knew about the world.
One thing was certain—this was far beyond anything the local sheriff could handle. Whatever was stalking their farm, whatever had butchered their cattle, it wasn’t of this world. And Mara had a sinking feeling that things were about to get much, much worse.
The next morning dawned grey and overcast, matching Mara’s mood perfectly. She sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold, while Luke paced back and forth.
“We have to tell someone,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time. “The sheriff, the game warden, hell, maybe even the National Guard.”
Mara sighed, rubbing her temples. “And tell them what, exactly? That we saw some kind of… what? Werewolf? They’ll think we’ve lost our minds.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Luke’s voice rose in frustration. “We can’t just sit here and wait for that thing to come back!”
Before Mara could respond, a knock at the door made them both jump. Luke grabbed his rifle, approaching the entrance cautiously. “Who is it?”
“It’s Dan,” came the sheriff’s muffled reply. “Everything alright in there?”
Luke lowered the gun, shooting Mara a questioning look. She nodded, and he opened the door.
Sheriff Holbrook stepped inside, his brow furrowed with concern. “Got a call from your neighbor, Mrs. Abernathy. Said she heard some commotion over here last night. Wanted to make sure you two were okay.”
Mara and Luke exchanged glances, a silent debate passing between them. Finally, Mara spoke. “We’re fine, Sheriff. But… there’s something you should know.”
Over the next half hour, they recounted the events of the previous night. To his credit, Dan listened without interruption, his expression grave. When they finished, he was quiet for a long moment.
“I believe you saw something,” he said carefully. “But I’m not sure what to make of it. We’ve had reports of unusual animal activity all over the county lately. Livestock mutilations, strange tracks… nothing quite like what you’re describing, but…”
“But what?” Luke pressed.
Dan sighed, suddenly looking much older than his fifty-odd years. “But I’m starting to think we’re dealing with something beyond my pay grade. I’ve got calls in to some state and federal agencies, but they’re moving slow. Bureaucracy, you know.”
Mara felt a flicker of hope. At least they weren’t being dismissed outright. “So what do we do in the meantime?”
“Stay vigilant. Keep your doors locked, don’t go out alone after dark. And if you see that… thing again, you call me immediately. Day or night.”
As Dan turned to leave, he paused, his hand on the doorknob. “One more thing. There’s a town meeting tonight at the community center. Might be worth attending. Seems like a lot of folks have concerns they want to air.”
After the sheriff left, Mara and Luke sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Luke spoke up. “You think we should go? To the meeting?”
Mara nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think we should. If nothing else, maybe we’ll find out we’re not the only ones seeing strange things around here.”
As they prepared to head into town that evening, Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that they were standing on the precipice of something monumental. Whatever was happening in Whispering Pines, it was clear that their quiet rural life would never be the same.
The community center was packed when they arrived, a low murmur of anxious voices filling the air. Mara recognized faces from all over the county—farmers, shopkeepers, teachers. It seemed like half the town had turned out.
They found seats near the back just as Mayor Thompson called the meeting to order. The portly man looked nervous, mopping his brow with a handkerchief as he addressed the crowd.
“Folks, I know there’s been a lot of talk lately about strange goings-on in our community. I want to assure you that we’re taking every report seriously and working closely with law enforcement to get to the bottom of things.”
A chorus of skeptical mutters rippled through the room. From somewhere near the front, a voice called out, “What about my chickens, then? Who’s gonna pay for thirty birds with their heads clean off?”
This opened the floodgates. Suddenly, everyone seemed to have a story to share. Tales of mutilated livestock, eerie noises in the night, shadowy figures darting through fields. With each account, Mara felt her unease growing. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t isolated to their farm.
As the meeting devolved into near-chaos, with people shouting over each other and demanding answers, Mara noticed an unfamiliar face at the edge of the crowd. A tall, lean man with salt-and-pepper hair and piercing blue eyes. He stood apart from the others, watching the proceedings with an air of detached interest.
She nudged Luke, nodding toward the stranger. “You know him?”
Luke shook his head. “Never seen him before. But he doesn’t look too concerned about all this, does he?”
Before Mara could respond, Mayor Thompson’s voice cut through the din. “Please, everyone! I understand you’re frightened, but panicking won’t solve anything. Now, I’d like to introduce someone who might be able to help shed some light on our situation. Dr. Elias Blackwood, if you’d come up here?”
The stranger Mara had noticed earlier made his way to the front of the room. As he turned to face the crowd, she felt a chill run down her spine. There was something in his eyes—a knowing look that made her deeply uneasy.
“Good evening,” Dr. Blackwood began, his voice smooth and cultured. “I’m a cryptozoologist and folklore specialist from Miskatonic University. I’ve been following reports of unusual activity in this region for some time now, and I believe I may be able to offer some… unique insights into what’s happening here in Whispering Pines.”
A hush fell over the room as everyone leaned in, eager for answers. But as Dr. Blackwood began to speak of ancient legends and creatures that lurked at the edges of human understanding, Mara felt her blood run cold.
She didn’t know what this man’s agenda was, but one thing was becoming increasingly clear—the nightmare that had begun on her farm was far from over. In fact, it was spreading, seeping into every corner of their once-peaceful community.
And somehow, she knew that she and Luke were going to be right at the center of whatever was coming.
Dr. Blackwood’s words hung in the air long after the town meeting had ended. Mara and Luke lingered in the parking lot, watching as their neighbors filed out of the community center in hushed, worried groups.
“What do you make of all that?” Luke asked, his voice low. “Ancient spirits? Creatures from another dimension? It sounds like something out of a bad horror movie.”
Mara shook her head, trying to process everything they’d heard. “I don’t know what to think. But after what we saw… can we really rule anything out?”
As they debated whether to approach Dr. Blackwood for more information, a familiar voice called out to them. “Mara! Luke! Hold up a second.”
They turned to see Jenny Cooper jogging toward them. Jenny had been Mara’s best friend since childhood, and now served as the town’s veterinary technician. Her usually cheerful face was drawn with worry.
“Hey, Jen,” Mara greeted her. “You okay? You look a little shaken.”
Jenny glanced around nervously before leaning in close. “Listen, there’s something you need to know. Dr. Reeves and I… we’ve been seeing some really weird stuff lately. Animals with injuries that don’t make any sense. And it’s not just farm animals anymore.”
Luke frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We had a coyote brought in yesterday. It was… God, I’ve never seen anything like it. Its insides were scrambled, like something had reached in and just… rearranged things. But there wasn’t a mark on its skin.”
Mara felt her stomach lurch. “That’s… Jesus, Jen. Have you told the sheriff?”
Jenny nodded. “Yeah, but he seems overwhelmed. And now with this Blackwood guy showing up… I don’t know. Something feels off about him.”
“I got that feeling too,” Mara admitted. “But if he knows something about what’s going on…”
Their conversation was interrupted by the approach of Dr. Blackwood himself. Up close, his piercing gaze was even more unsettling.
“Ah, Ms. Lawson, Mr. Lawson,” he said smoothly. “I was hoping to have a word with you. I understand you’ve had some… unusual experiences on your property recently.”
Mara hesitated, shooting a glance at Luke. He gave a slight nod, and she turned back to Blackwood. “That’s right. But how did you know?”
The cryptozoologist smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Word travels fast in small towns. I’m very interested in hearing your account firsthand. Perhaps we could meet tomorrow? Say, at your farm around noon?”
Before Mara could respond, Jenny cut in. “I don’t mean to be rude, Dr. Blackwood, but who exactly are you? And why are you so interested in what’s happening here?”
Blackwood’s smile never wavered, but Mara sensed a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “As I mentioned in the meeting, Ms…?”
“Cooper. Jenny Cooper.”
“Ms. Cooper. I’m a specialist in folklore and cryptozoology. The phenomena occurring in Whispering Pines align closely with certain… shall we say, esoteric texts I’ve studied. I believe I may be able to offer some valuable insights.”
Luke crossed his arms, skepticism clear in his voice. “Insights like what? You think some ancient spirit is behind all this?”
“I think,” Blackwood said carefully, “that there are forces at work here beyond conventional understanding. Forces that have been dormant for a very long time, but are now awakening. And I think your farm may be at the epicenter.”
A chill ran down Mara’s spine at his words. Part of her wanted to dismiss it all as nonsense, but after what she’d seen…
“Alright,” she said finally. “Tomorrow at noon. But I want Sheriff Holbrook there too.”
Blackwood inclined his head. “Of course. I look forward to our discussion.”
As he walked away, Jenny turned to Mara with wide eyes. “Are you sure about this? That guy gives me the creeps.”
Mara sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not sure about anything anymore, Jen. But if there’s even a chance he knows something that can help…”
“I get it,” Jenny said softly. “Just… be careful, okay? Both of you.”
As they parted ways and headed home, Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that they were stepping onto a path from which there was no return. Whatever Dr. Blackwood knew—or thought he knew—about the strange occurrences in Whispering Pines, she had a sinking feeling that learning the truth might come at a terrible cost.
The drive back to the farm was tense and quiet. As they pulled up to the house, Mara noticed Luke’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
He let out a shaky breath. “Not really. I keep thinking about what that Blackwood guy said. About our farm being the epicenter. What if… what if we brought this thing here somehow?”
Mara reached over and squeezed his arm. “Hey, don’t think like that. Whatever’s happening, it’s not our fault. We’ll figure this out.”
But as they made their way inside, securing every lock and drawing every curtain, Mara couldn’t quite convince herself of her own words. The farm that had been in their family for generations now felt like alien territory, full of unseen threats and dark secrets.
As she lay in bed that night, sleep eluding her, Mara found herself straining to hear any unusual sounds from outside. But the night was eerily quiet, as if the very land was holding its breath, waiting for whatever was to come.
Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow we might finally get some answers. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered that some questions were better left unasked, some truths better left buried.
With the meeting with Dr. Blackwood looming, Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that they were standing on the brink of something vast and terrifying. And once they stepped over that edge, there would be no going back to the simple life they’d always known.
As dawn began to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Mara finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. Her dreams were filled with shadowy figures and inhuman cries, and through it all, the piercing blue eyes of Dr. Blackwood watched, unblinking and knowing.
The next day dawned grey and misty, a fine drizzle casting a gloomy pall over the farm. Mara stood at the kitchen window, clutching a mug of coffee and watching the driveway with growing apprehension. It was nearly noon.
Luke paced behind her, his nervous energy palpable. “Maybe we should call this off,” he said for the third time that morning. “Something about Blackwood just doesn’t sit right with me.”
Mara sighed, turning to face her brother. “I know. But what choice do we have? If he knows something—anything—that can help us make sense of what’s happening…”
She trailed off as the crunch of tires on gravel announced the arrival of their first guest. Sheriff Holbrook’s cruiser pulled up, followed closely by an unfamiliar black sedan.
“Here we go,” Luke muttered, moving to unlock the front door.
Dr. Blackwood emerged from the sedan, looking oddly unruffled by the dreary weather in his crisp suit. Sheriff Holbrook, by contrast, looked as though he hadn’t slept in days, his usually neat uniform rumpled and his eyes ringed with dark circles.
“Mara, Luke,” the sheriff greeted them with a tired nod. “Thanks for having us out. Though I have to say, I’m not sure what to expect from all this.”
Dr. Blackwood smiled that unsettling smile of his. “I assure you, Sheriff, by the end of our discussion today, you’ll have a much clearer picture of what’s plaguing your town.”
They settled in the living room, an awkward silence falling over the group. Mara found herself studying Blackwood, trying to get a read on him. There was something in his demeanor—a barely contained excitement, perhaps?—that set her on edge.
“Well,” Luke said finally, “you said you had insights to share, Dr. Blackwood. We’re all ears.”
The cryptozoologist leaned forward, his blue eyes intense. “What I’m about to tell you may seem… fantastic. Unbelievable, even. But I assure you, it is all too real.”
He paused, as if for dramatic effect, before continuing. “The creatures you’ve encountered, the strange phenomena occurring throughout the area—they are manifestations of an ancient force. A being that has slumbered beneath this land for millennia.”
Sheriff Holbrook scoffed. “Now hold on just a minute. You expect us to believe some kind of monster is behind all this?”
“Not a monster, Sheriff,” Blackwood said patiently. “Something far older and more powerful. The native peoples who once inhabited this region had legends of a great spirit that dwelled in the earth. They called it the Whisperer in the Dark.”
Mara felt a chill run down her spine at the name. “And you think this… Whisperer is responsible for what’s happening?”
Blackwood nodded. “I believe it’s awakening. The mutilations, the strange creatures—they’re like ripples spreading out from a stone dropped in a pond. And your farm, Ms. Lawson, seems to be at the center of it all.”
Luke stood abruptly, his face flushed with anger. “This is insane. You’re talking about fairy tales and ghost stories. We need real answers, not this… this nonsense!”
“Luke,” Mara said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “Let’s hear him out.”
Blackwood seemed unfazed by Luke’s outburst. “I understand your skepticism, Mr. Lawson. But consider what you’ve seen with your own eyes. Can you truly say that conventional explanations suffice?”
Before Luke could respond, a piercing shriek cut through the air. They all jumped, heads whipping toward the window.
“What the hell was that?” Sheriff Holbrook exclaimed, his hand moving to his holster.
Mara’s heart raced as she recognized the sound. “The sheep,” she whispered. “It’s happening again.”
They rushed outside, the drizzle having given way to a heavier rain. What they saw in the sheep pen stopped them all in their tracks.
The flock was in chaos, bleating in terror as they tried to escape… something. At first, Mara couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. It was as if the very air was rippling, like heat waves off hot asphalt. But there was a solidity to it, a presence that defied description.
And then she saw them. Eyes. Dozens of gleaming, otherworldly eyes floating in the distorted air. They blinked in and out of existence, focusing on the panicked sheep with predatory intensity.
“Dear God,” Sheriff Holbrook breathed, his face pale.
Dr. Blackwood, however, looked almost elated. “Fascinating,” he murmured, pulling out a small device that looked like a cross between a cellphone and a Geiger counter. It emitted a series of rapid beeps as he pointed it toward the sheep pen.
“What is that thing?” Luke demanded. “And why aren’t you as freaked out as the rest of us?”
Blackwood’s eyes never left the rippling air as he answered. “This device measures certain… energies associated with interdimensional phenomena. And as for why I’m not ‘freaked out,’ Mr. Lawson—this is precisely what I came here to study.”
Mara tore her gaze away from the nightmarish scene to stare at Blackwood. “You knew. You knew this would happen.”
The cryptozoologist finally turned to face them, his expression unreadable. “I suspected. The signs were all there. But seeing it manifest like this… it’s beyond my wildest expectations.”
A sickening realization dawned on Mara. “You’re not here to help us at all, are you? We’re just… test subjects to you.”
Before Blackwood could respond, a new sound rose above the bleating of the sheep and the pounding of the rain. It was a low, thrumming noise that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Mara felt it in her bones, a vibration that set her teeth on edge.
The air around the sheep pen began to twist and warp even more dramatically. The floating eyes multiplied, and now Mara could make out other features—gaping maws, writhing tentacles, forms that hurt her mind to look at directly.
“It’s happening,” Blackwood said, his voice filled with an almost religious fervor. “The veil is thinning. The Whisperer is reaching through.”
Sheriff Holbrook had his gun out now, though what good it would do against… whatever this was, Mara couldn’t imagine. “Everyone back to the house, now!” he shouted over the growing cacophony.
But as they turned to retreat, Mara realized with horror that the distortion wasn’t confined to the sheep pen. All around them, the air was beginning to ripple and tear.
Reality itself seemed to be coming apart at the seams, and at the center of it all stood Dr. Blackwood, arms outstretched as if in welcome.
“Don’t you see?” he cried, his eyes wild. “This is what I’ve worked toward my entire life! The merging of worlds, the awakening of ancient powers! Whispering Pines will be the epicenter of a new age!”
As Blackwood’s maniacal laughter mingled with the otherworldly sounds now emanating from all around them, Mara grabbed Luke’s hand. They locked eyes, a lifetime of sibling understanding passing between them in an instant.
Whatever was coming through—whatever madness Blackwood had unleashed—they would face it together. But as the world around them continued to warp and twist, Mara couldn’t shake the terrifying thought that this might be a battle they were woefully unprepared to fight.
The Whisperer in the Dark was awakening, and Whispering Pines would never be the same again.