The hollow Verge

The Village of Shadows

The fog clung to Elias like a second skin as he stepped deeper into the village, each footfall echoing in the eerie stillness. The streets of Graymere were twisted, foreign, as though the very layout of the town had been designed to disorient, to confuse. The buildings loomed over him, their windows like dark eyes watching, unblinking, while the faint scent of damp earth and something faintly metallic filled the air.

There was no sign of life. No movement. No sound, save for the occasional rustle of the wind weaving through the gnarled trees. The village felt abandoned, forgotten, but not quite empty. It was as if it had once been full, and now only the ghosts of those who had lived here remained. The place seemed...waiting. Watching.

Elias glanced down at the letter again, his fingers tracing the paper as though seeking answers hidden in its creases. The invitation had been simple: Graymere. But as the fog thickened around him, he realized how unprepared he was for whatever this place truly was. Sanctuary for the burdened mind, it had said. But what did that mean? What kind of peace could a village like this offer?

A groan from the old wooden boards of a nearby house made him flinch. He looked up, expecting to see someone—anyone—emerge from one of the houses. But there was only silence. His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts as he moved toward the village center, where the shapes of several buildings rose from the mist.

It wasn’t long before he saw it—the town square. It was small, enclosed by buildings that seemed to huddle together as if to shield themselves from the outside world. At the center of the square stood a stone fountain, dry and cracked, with vines creeping up its sides. The water had long since dried up, but the basin still held a strange, unsettling weight. It felt as though it was waiting for something—or someone—to awaken it.

Elias stepped closer, his hand reaching instinctively for the stone, but before he could touch it, a voice broke the silence.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Elias froze, his heart leaping into his throat. He turned quickly, but saw no one. His pulse quickened, his breath catching in his chest. The voice had come from behind him, soft yet insistent, like a whisper carried on the wind. It had come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

He looked around the square, his eyes scanning the mist. There was no one—no figure, no shadow, just the heavy weight of the fog pressing in on him.

“Who’s there?” he called, his voice trembling more than he intended.

A soft rustling. A figure appeared at the far end of the square, emerging from the fog like a ghost, her form obscured by shadows. Elias’s heart skipped a beat as she stepped forward into the dim light, her pale face a stark contrast against the darkness surrounding her. She was wearing a long, dark coat, her hair a disheveled mass of dark curls.

She didn’t speak immediately, instead eyeing him with something unreadable—perhaps suspicion, perhaps pity—as if she knew something he didn’t. Elias opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. There was an aura of quiet power about her, something both unnerving and captivating, as though she were a part of this place, or perhaps, a part of the shadows themselves.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she repeated, this time more slowly, her voice soft but filled with a heavy warning.

Elias swallowed, gathering his courage. “I—I received a letter,” he said, holding up the crumpled page. “It brought me here.”

The woman’s gaze flickered briefly to the letter, then back to him, her eyes narrowing. She took a step closer, her movements fluid but deliberate, as though every action was weighed with meaning.

“Graymere doesn’t send letters,” she said, her voice now laced with something darker. “Not to outsiders. Not to anyone who hasn’t already been...chosen.”

“Chosen?” Elias echoed, his heart racing. The weight of her words hung in the air between them, thick and suffocating. “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

She seemed to hesitate, as though weighing whether to say more, then finally spoke, her words slow and deliberate. “This village, this place, doesn’t let anyone leave. Not unless it’s ready to let them go. If you’ve come here, it’s because you’re already part of it. And you won’t be leaving until it decides you’ve paid your price.”

Elias felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The air around him seemed to grow heavier, darker, as though the shadows themselves had drawn closer. A distant echo of laughter sounded, but there was no one else around. No children, no adults—just the heavy silence pressing in on him.

“Who are you?” Elias asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his mind struggling to make sense of the strange encounter.

The woman smiled, a thin, knowing curve of her lips that sent an icy tremor through him. “I’m someone who’s seen this before. Someone who knows what happens when Graymere chooses you.” She paused, her eyes flickering momentarily with an emotion that might have been pity, or perhaps something darker. “And trust me, Dr. Roe, you don’t want to be part of this place. Not unless you have no other choice.”

The fog thickened, swirling around them, and for a moment, Elias was certain he saw something—no, someone—moving in the mist, their shape barely visible in the haze. His mind raced. Could this village truly be alive? Could it be sentient, pulling people in, choosing them for some unknown purpose?

“Please,” Elias said, his voice cracking slightly. “I just need answers. What’s happening here? What do you know about Graymere?”

The woman’s expression softened, but it wasn’t comforting. “I know what you’re running from, Dr. Roe. And I know that the longer you stay here, the more you’ll learn. But not all answers are meant to be known.” She stepped back, her figure blurring into the fog. “Good luck, Dr. Roe. You’ll need it.”

Before Elias could speak again, she vanished into the mist, leaving him alone once more. His chest tightened as the fog closed in, thickening around him like a wall. He stood in the center of the square, his thoughts racing, but the answer still eluded him.

Had he truly been chosen?

And if so, what did Graymere want with him?

As the fog wrapped around him, Elias had the distinct feeling that the village was waiting. Waiting for him to understand. Waiting for him to succumb to whatever dark force had brought him here.

And the worst part? He was starting to believe that it was already too late to leave.