SECRETS OF HOLLOW CREEK

CHAPTER ONE

The rusted hinges shrieked their protest as Scarlett shoved the heavy cabin door open. Dust motes danced in the feeble shaft of sunlight that dared to pierce the gloom. A cough escaped her lips as the stale air, thick with the scent of neglect and damp earth, assaulted her senses. 

For the past ten years, the urban jungle had been her domain. The city, a relentless beast, had chewed her up and spat her out, leaving behind a hollow shell yearning for escape. Here, in this forgotten corner of the world, amidst towering pines and the whisper of unseen streams, she hoped to find solace.

The cabin, a squat log structure nestled amongst the trees, was a far cry from her sleek, minimalist apartment. It reeked of a bygone era – faded floral wallpaper peeling at the edges, a dusty rocking chair creaking ominously in the corner. Yet, an undeniable charm hung in the air.  

Sunlight glinted off the chipped enamel surface of a wood-burning stove that dominated the room. A threadbare rug lay sprawled on the uneven wooden floor, its faded pattern lost in a battle with time. Through a cobweb-draped window, Scarlett glimpsed a clearing bathed in sunlight, a vibrant contrast to the sepia-toned interior. 

Lugging in her meager belongings, a stark reminder of the life she'd left behind, Scarlett felt a pang of doubt. Was this truly a haven, or just another cage, albeit one painted in shades of green and brown?

Ignoring the voice of doubt, she set about the task of reclaiming the cabin. The rhythmic squeak of the mop against the dusty floorboards became a soothing counterpoint to the symphony of birdsong filtering through the windows. Each swipe of a cloth on the grime-coated surfaces felt like a symbolic purging, a shedding of the city's grime that clung to her soul. 

As the day wore on, sunlight slanted through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. Exhausted but strangely invigorated, she collapsed onto the threadbare sofa. Her gaze wandered to a framed photograph tucked into a corner of the dusty mantelpiece. A woman with auburn hair streaked with silver smiled back, her eyes crinkled at the corners. Recognition, bittersweet and tinged with a touch of sadness, flooded her. It was her grandmother, the one who had inherited the cabin and gifted it to her upon her passing.

Scarlett had never been particularly close to her grandmother. The woman was a creature of the wild, a free spirit who preferred the company of the mountains to the noise and chaos of the city. Their interactions had been limited to terse phone calls and the occasional cryptic postcard featuring breathtaking landscapes that always arrived a tad too late, a silent reminder of the life Scarlett had chosen.

Now, here she was, inhabiting that life, albeit unwittingly. An unexpected gust of wind rattled the windows, sending a shiver down her spine. Was it just the cold mountain air, or was it something more? Her grandmother had always been a woman of secrets, and a strange unease settled in Scarlett's stomach, a premonition of things unknown.

Ignoring the chill, Scarlett rose and ventured outside. The clearing she'd glimpsed earlier lay bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. Towering pines, their branches heavy with needles, formed a cathedral of green around her. The air, crisp and clean, filled her lungs, driving away the last vestiges of city smog. As the sky bled from gold to fiery orange, a chorus of crickets chirped their evening song. It was a symphony of nature, a stark contrast to the incessant cacophony of car horns and sirens that had become her nightly lullaby.

A sense of peace, unfamiliar yet strangely alluring, washed over Scarlett.  She was far from civilization, far from the life she knew. But as she stood there, amidst the whispering pines and the fading sunlight, a flicker of hope ignited within her. Perhaps, she thought, this wasn't just a refuge. Perhaps, in this quiet corner of the world, she could start anew. 

Suddenly, a rustle in the undergrowth caught her attention. Adrenaline surged through her veins, the city-honed fear of the unknown momentarily replacing the nascent peace. She squinted into the gathering darkness, her hand instinctively reaching for something that wasn't there – a pepper spray, a taser, anything but her bare hands. 

A pair of eyes, glowing an eerie amber in the twilight, emerged from the shadows. Fear threatened to paralyze her, but a primal instinct took over.  A deep growl, guttural and raw, ripped through the stillness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, resonating within the very fabric of the forest.

The amber eyes vanished. Silence descended, heavy and oppressive. Scarlett's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet night. Taking a shaky breath, she forced herself to relax. Maybe it ...was just a deer, she reasoned, her voice a mere whisper in the vastness of the forest. Yet, a shiver ran down her spine, a feeling that transcended mere fear. It was an awareness, a sense of being watched, observed by something unseen.

The day's exertion finally caught up with her. Retreating back into the cabin, she secured the rickety door with a rusty latch, a flimsy barrier against the mysteries that lurked outside. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, reminding her of the neglected grocery bags sitting in the trunk of her car.

By the flickering light of a kerosene lamp, she scavenged through the meager provisions she'd brought. A can of beans and a stale loaf of bread would have to suffice for dinner. As she ate, her gaze drifted back to the framed photograph. Her grandmother's eyes bright and beautiful had some sort of eeriness to it. a knowing glint that sent shivers down her spine. She knew her grandmother held knowledge of the ancients some of which she had shared but this, this felt different.

Suddenly, a loud screech echoed through the night, a sound both terrifying and strangely beautiful. Sitting still and instinctively holding her breath, she battled with thr urge to find out whatever it was that made that sound.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, she grabbed a flashlight, its beam a feeble weapon against the night. Stepping outside, she was met by the beautiful sight of the night sky , a sight long forgotten beneath the city's relentless light pollution. The air thrummed with an unseen energy, a low hum that vibrated through her bones.

Hesitantly, she ventured towards the edge of the clearing, her senses on high alert. The forest floor was soft beneath her worn sneakers, a stark contrast to the concrete jungles she was used to and her earlier fear had morphed into a cautious curiosity.

As she ventured deeper, the rustling of leaves intensified, punctuated by the occasional snap of a twig. The flashlight beam danced across gnarled roots and fallen logs, casting grotesque shadows that seemed to writhe and twist in the darkness.

Then, she saw it. A clearing bathed in moonlight, casting the scene in an otherworldly glow. In the center stood a massive oak, its branches reaching toward the heavens like skeletal fingers. And beneath it, a sight that defied logic and shattered the carefully constructed world she thought she knew.

A pair of eyes, glowing the same eerie amber she had seen earlier, stared back at her. But these eyes were encased in the head of a massive wolf, its fur the color of moonlight. The creature stood tall, its muscles rippling beneath a sleek coat. A low growl rumbled from its throat, vibrating through the stillness.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Fear, cold and primal, gripped Scarlett's heart. But then, something unexpected happened. Instead of attacking, the wolf tilted its head, a gesture that seemed almost inquisitive. The amber gaze softened, and a flicker of something akin to recognition passed through its eyes.

As quickly as it had appeared, the wolf turned and melted back into the shadows. The clearing was plunged into darkness once more, leaving her alone with the pounding of her heart and the echo of the encounter that would forever change her life.

Retreating back to the cabin, she collapsed onto the worn sofa, the image of the wolf burned into her memory. Sleep, when it finally came, was filled with vivid dreams of amber eyes and howling wind..