Elliot started asking questions.Carefully.
Quietly.
Most people refused to talk.
Some pretended not to hear him.
Others—
Watched him the way you watch a man digging his own grave.
But one person finally spoke.
Old Man Dyer.
He lived at the edge of town, closer to the woods than anyone else dared. His house leaned like it was trying to escape the ground beneath it.
Elliot knocked twice.
No answer.
Then—
“Door’s open,” came a voice from inside.
The interior smelled of mildew and something older.
Something… stale.
Dyer sat in a chair by the window, staring out at the tree line.
“You’ve been asking questions,” he said.
Elliot didn’t sit. “People are disappearing.”
Dyer nodded slowly. “They always have.”
“Who are they?”
Dyer finally looked at him.
And Elliot felt his stomach drop.
Because Dyer’s eyes—
They weren’t afraid.
They were resigned.
“You saw one, didn’t you?” Dyer asked.
Elliot hesitated.
Then nodded.
Dyer exhaled sharply. “Then it’s too late for you.”
Elliot’s jaw tightened. “Start talking.”
Dyer leaned back.
“There are rules,” he said.
“Rules?”
“For living here,” Dyer continued. “For surviving.”
Elliot crossed his arms. “Let’s hear them.”
Dyer raised a trembling finger.
“First—don’t go into the woods after dark.”
Elliot said nothing.
“Second—don’t look at them directly.”
“Too late.”
Dyer winced. “Yeah. I figured.”
“Third—don’t let them know you see them.”
Elliot laughed dryly. “They already do.”
Dyer’s expression didn’t change.
“Then you better hope they’re not interested.”
Silence stretched between them.
“What are they?” Elliot asked finally.
Dyer turned back to the window.
“They’re what’s left.”
Elliot frowned. “Of what?”
Dyer’s voice dropped.
“Of the people who didn’t belong.”
A chill ran through Elliot.
“You’re saying they’re—what—ghosts?”
Dyer shook his head slowly.
“No,” he whispered. “Not ghosts.”
“Then what?”
Dyer’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
“Hungry.”
The room felt colder.
“They take people,” Dyer continued. “The ones the town doesn’t want. The ones who don’t fit.”
His eyes flicked to Elliot.
“They notice them.”
Elliot swallowed.
“And then?”
Dyer’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“They make them like them.”
Elliot felt something tighten in his chest.
“That’s not possible.”
Dyer shrugged.
“Neither is this town.”
A long pause.
“Can they be stopped?” Elliot asked.
Dyer didn’t answer right away.
Then—
“People have tried.”
“And?”
Dyer finally looked at him again.
“They’re still here.”
Elliot exhaled slowly.
“Yeah,” he said. “That tracks.”
As he turned to leave, Dyer spoke again.
“One more thing.”
Elliot paused.
“If you hear them calling your name,” Dyer said, “don’t answer.”
Elliot frowned. “Why?”
Dyer’s voice was barely audible.
“Because they won’t stop.”
Source: Some or all of the content was generated using an AI language model
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