STRAWBERRY VALLEY MYSTERIES: BOOK 1 - BAD PARTS

Chapter 4: Silent Shadows

The next morning, the group gathered at their usual spot by the old water tower on the edge of town. Each of them had dark circles under their eyes, haunted by restless sleep and the events of the night before. The asylum loomed in the distance, a shadow on the horizon that refused to be ignored.

"Alright," Greg said, breaking the silence. His voice was steady, but there was a tension in his shoulders that betrayed his unease. "We need to figure out what that thing was—and why it’s there."

“Why?” K.C. asked, glancing nervously toward the asylum. “Why can’t we just leave it alone? That place was shut down for a reason.”

Max nodded, his face pale. “She’s right, Greg. Whatever we saw, it’s not something we should mess with. Maybe it’s best to just stay away.”

Greg crossed his arms, determination flashing in his eyes. “If that thing is real—and I’m sure it is—it could be dangerous. Who’s to say it won’t come into town?”

Rose shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “But what if it is some… spirit? You can’t just reason with a ghost.”

Ryan, ever the thrill-seeker, shrugged. “Hey, ghosts or not, I say we go back. We can’t just leave a mystery unsolved.”

Lilly shot him an incredulous look. “Are you serious, Ryan? That thing had no face. It wasn’t… normal.”

Ryan gave a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe that’s why we need to understand it. Besides, aren’t you curious?”

Barney cleared his throat, bringing the focus back to him. “Curious or not, we can’t just barge in there like last time. We need a plan.”

Greg nodded. “Agreed. We’ll need supplies. Flashlights, rope, maybe even something to protect ourselves with, just in case.”

“What do you mean, ‘protect ourselves?’” Rose asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Greg met her gaze, his face serious. “Whatever that thing was, it followed us. If it decides to come after us again, I want us to be ready.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, a silent understanding passing between them. Despite their fear, none of them were willing to leave this mystery unsolved—not with the strange figure still lurking in the asylum.

They spent the rest of the morning gathering supplies. Barney, the most resourceful of the group, managed to “borrow” some old walkie-talkies from his dad’s garage. Max brought along a small first-aid kit, just in case, and Lilly packed a few snacks, even though she doubted any of them would feel like eating.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the town, they regrouped at the edge of the path leading to the asylum.

“This feels like a bad idea,” K.C. muttered, clutching her flashlight as if it might somehow protect her from whatever they would encounter.

“Agreed,” Rose whispered, but she didn’t turn back.

Greg looked them over, a fierce determination in his eyes. “Alright. Stick together, and don’t wander off. If anyone feels uncomfortable, we leave immediately.”

With that, they set off down the path, the asylum looming larger with each step. The closer they got, the more the air seemed to thicken, as though the building itself radiated a sense of dread.

When they reached the broken fence, they stopped, staring up at the asylum’s darkened windows. A faint breeze stirred, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted—a sound that should have been comforting but now felt ominous.

Greg took a deep breath, then stepped forward. “Alright. Let’s go.”

They entered the asylum through the same side door as before. Inside, the air was heavy, stale, filled with the scent of mildew and decay. Their flashlights cut through the darkness, illuminating broken furniture, peeling wallpaper, and shadows that seemed to shift at the edge of their vision.

“Where did we see it last time?” Ryan whispered.

“Down this hallway,” Max replied, his voice low. He pointed down the corridor that led to the room where they’d seen the figure.

They moved in silence, each step cautious, each creak of the floorboards sending their hearts racing. As they neared the end of the hall, a soft, barely audible whisper filled the air.

They froze.

“Did… did you hear that?” Lilly asked, her voice trembling.

Greg nodded, shining his flashlight in every direction, but there was no sign of anyone—or anything.

The whisper grew louder, more insistent, like a thousand voices murmuring just out of reach. Words drifted through the air, fragmented and distorted, but one word stood out, repeated over and over again.

“Leave…”

Max felt a chill run down his spine, every instinct telling him to turn and run. “Maybe we should listen…”

“No,” Greg replied, his jaw clenched. “We came here for answers.”

They crept forward, the whispers growing louder with each step. And then, as they reached a door at the end of the hallway, the whispers stopped. Silence fell over them, thick and suffocating.

Greg reached for the doorknob, glancing back at the others. “Ready?”

They all nodded, though none of them truly felt prepared for whatever was waiting on the other side.

With a steady hand, Greg pushed the door open.

The room was dark, filled with rows of empty beds, their rusted frames casting eerie shadows across the walls. At the far end of the room, by the window, stood the figure.

It was as they’d seen it before—tall, thin, with limbs that seemed too long, its head tilted slightly to the side. But this time, it was facing them.

A sense of dread washed over them as they realized they could now see its face—or rather, the lack of it. Where its face should have been was a swirling darkness, as though it was a void, an emptiness that seemed to pull the light toward it.

Rose took a step back, her breath hitching in terror. “Greg, let’s go.”

But Greg seemed entranced, his eyes fixed on the figure. “What are you?” he whispered, taking a hesitant step forward.

As he moved, the figure raised one elongated arm, pointing at him with a skeletal hand. Its mouth—or what should have been its mouth—opened wide, and a deep, guttural voice filled the room.

“Leave this place… or suffer.”

The words reverberated through the walls, an unnatural echo that sent chills through their bones.

Without warning, the figure began to move toward them, each step slow but purposeful, as though it was gliding rather than walking.

“Run!” Barney shouted, breaking the spell that held them frozen in place.

They turned and bolted down the hallway, the figure’s footsteps echoing behind them. The whispers returned, louder now, a cacophony of voices urging them to leave, to flee, to never return.

They burst through the doors, stumbling into the night, gasping for air. When they finally dared to look back, the figure was gone. The asylum stood silent once more, the whispers fading into nothingness.

As they caught their breath, Greg turned to the others, his face pale but resolute. “It warned us. But I don’t think it wants us to just leave.”

“What do you mean?” Rose asked, her voice shaking.

Greg stared at the asylum, a haunted look in his eyes. “I think… it’s hiding something. And it doesn’t want us to find out what.”

The group fell silent, each of them knowing one thing for certain: whatever secrets lay hidden in the asylum, they were darker—and more dangerous—than they’d ever imagined.