Following the chilling success of their first collection, Lady Eckland, Glenn Riley, and new collaborator, Bella Darkwood return to guide you through the shadowy corridors of fear with their second compendium, *Whispers In The Dark 2*. These master...
The narrow country road wound its way through the English countryside, flanked on either side by towering oaks and elms. Sarah gripped the wheel of her battered Mini as it bounced through yet another pothole, jostling her in her seat. She squinted through the encroaching darkness at the road ahead, looking for some sign to indicate her location.
“Bloody GPS,” she muttered, glancing in frustration at the blank screen on her dashboard. The signal had dropped out miles ago, leaving her alone with the dusty trail of her headlights under the moonless sky.
She was starting to regret accepting this invitation from persons unknown to stay in the tiny village of Ravenmoor. She’d been shocked when the letter arrived offering her lodging to work on her next horror novel. Intrigued, she’d hastily packed her bags, fueled up the Cooper, and hit the road. Now she worried she was well and truly lost.
Just as resignation set in, she spotted a weathered signpost up ahead pointing east. She slowed to read it in her headlights: Ravenmoor - 1 mile.
"Thank god," she breathed. After days stuck on cramped trains and rainy motorways, her journey was nearly over. She rounded a bend and could scarcely believe the sight before her—nestled in a copse of trees lay a tiny hamlet, tendrils of mist swirling through the darkened buildings.
The manor house loomed atop a hill at the far end of the village green, a crumbling granite edifice backlit by the moon peeking between fast-moving clouds. Sarah shivered. Even in daylight, the estate would have cut an imposing figure presiding over the rural community. Bathed in shadows, it looked like something from the haunting final page of a ghost story, a warning rather than a welcoming retreat.
As she navigated the narrow streets, she realized with a start there were no lights on in any of the buildings. Not a single street lamp lined the roads. She passed darkened cottages and stores, even the village pub, usually a beacon for nightlife in any small town, was shuttered.
Unease crawled its way up Sarah’s neck. Where was everyone? Had there been some kind of emergency evacuation she hadn’t heard about? She considered turning back right then and there, but she desperately needed the solitude if she was going to make her book deadline in a few short months. Taking a deep breath, she pressed on toward the manor.
She pulled into the gravel drive, the tires crunching loudly in the silence. As she stepped from the car, she called out tentatively.
“Hello...?”
Her voice echoed across the open space unanswered. Wrapping her coat tightly against the night’s chill, Sarah hauled her suitcase from the backseat and made her way up the front steps. Before she could knock, the enormous oaken door swung slowly inward with an ominous creak.
