Eleanor's Secret.

1

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Marcus had always thought that small towns, by their very nature, were filled with quiet secrets. But this one felt different. This one felt heavy with something unspeakable, something ancient, like a fog that couldn't be blown away by the wind.

The village was quaint, perched on the edge of the sea, its cobblestone streets winding lazily toward the water. The shops were old, the people even older. It seemed as though time had forgotten this place, leaving it untouched by the modern world. The town seemed perfect for someone like Marcus—someone who had grown tired of the city, tired of ambition, and who wanted nothing more than the simplicity of peace.

But Marcus quickly realized that there was no peace to be found here.

It wasn't the fog that rolled in every evening, thick and suffocating, or the endless stretch of gray sky that loomed over the town like an unspoken promise of something darker. It wasn't even the sea, its waves crashing relentlessly against the cliffs as though it were trying to pull the land into its depths.

It was her.

The woman who lived at the mansion by the cliffs.

Her name was Eleanor. That much was clear. The townspeople spoke of her in hushed tones, as if the very mention of her name could summon something unnatural. At first, Marcus thought it was nothing more than idle gossip—something to pass the time in a town where nothing ever seemed to happen. But as the days went by, he found himself drawn to the mansion as though it were a magnet, pulling him closer and closer with an invisible force.

The mansion was an imposing sight, towering above the rest of the village, its dark stone walls crumbling in places, ivy creeping up the sides like something alive. It had been built long ago, when the town was young, but now it sat abandoned and forgotten—except for Eleanor.

Marcus had never seen her face. No one had, really. The mansion had large windows, but they were always covered with thick curtains, and the doors were never opened except for rare occasions. Still, the town couldn't stop talking about her.

"She's... different," one of the shopkeepers had said when Marcus first asked about her. The woman's eyes had darted around nervously, as if afraid someone might overhear. "No one ever really sees her. But they say she never leaves. She's... not like us."

Marcus had laughed it off. "Not like us? What do you mean?"

The woman had lowered her voice to a near whisper, glancing out the window before continuing. "She doesn't leave the house. Not unless it's at night. Some people think she's... cursed."

"Cursed?" Marcus had raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "How?"

The shopkeeper hesitated. "They say it has something to do with a choker she wears. A black one. Never takes it off. Not even when she sleeps."

The mention of the choker made Marcus pause. A choker. Strange, but not unheard of. People had their quirks, after all. But the way the woman spoke, her eyes wide and filled with an unsettling fear, made him wonder if there was something more to the story.

Marcus had pressed her further, asking what was so special about the choker, but the woman only shook her head and told him that he didn't want to know.

For the next few days, Marcus couldn't get the image of the choker out of his mind. He found himself walking past the mansion every evening on his way home, his eyes darting up to the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. But there was never anything. The windows were always dark.

Then, one afternoon, something changed.

It had been a particularly cold day, the wind whipping off the sea, sending waves crashing violently against the rocks. Marcus had been walking along the cliffs, lost in thought, when he saw her for the first time.

She was standing in one of the upper windows, her figure outlined against the gray sky. She wasn't moving, just standing there, watching. Her long black dress blended into the shadows, making it impossible to see where she began and the house ended. For a moment, Marcus wondered if she were a ghost.

He froze, staring at her, unable to tear his eyes away. There was something about her that drew him in—something magnetic, like a force that pulled at his very soul.

Then, as if sensing his gaze, she vanished behind the curtain.

Marcus stood there for a long time after, his breath caught in his chest. He had seen her. For just a moment, he had seen her, standing in the window.

That night, he found himself unable to sleep. His thoughts kept drifting back to the mansion, to the figure he had seen in the window, to the stories the townspeople had told him. He couldn't explain it, but he felt... drawn to her. To the mystery surrounding her. The choker. The curse.

The next morning, he visited the market, hoping to speak with some of the locals and find out more about Eleanor.

As he walked through the crowded market, he overheard snippets of conversation—mostly mundane chatter, but there were a few words that stood out.

"Have you heard? She's been walking the cliffs again," one woman said, her voice hushed.

"I don't know why she bothers. The curse has her trapped, you know. She'll never be free."

Marcus stopped and turned toward them. "What curse?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

The two women fell silent. One of them, an older woman with a stooped back and tired eyes, looked up at him and shook her head. "You don't want to know about that, young man," she said, her voice a whisper. "Some things are better left unsaid."

But Marcus wasn't deterred. "Why doesn't she leave the house? Why doesn't anyone ever see her?"

The woman hesitated, then glanced around nervously before answering. "She has a... a choker. A black one. She wears it all the time. Never takes it off. And some say... if she takes it off, she won't be able to stay here. Not in the world of the living."

Marcus frowned. "What do you mean?"

The older woman sighed. "You don't understand. There are things in this town... things we don't talk about. Things that are better left buried. But the choker... it's more than just jewelry. It's part of her. Part of her curse."

The words hung in the air, thick and heavy, as if the very mention of the choker had summoned something dark into the world. Marcus's pulse quickened.

"I think you'd better leave it alone," the woman added, her voice soft but firm. "Some things are better not known."

But Marcus wasn't so easily deterred. That night, after dinner, he found himself standing at the foot of the mansion, staring up at the dark windows, searching for a glimpse of Eleanor. He had to know more. The stories, the curse, the choker—he had to understand what was real and what was just superstition.

He waited in the darkness, watching, listening. And just when he thought he might have imagined it all, he saw her again.

A flicker of movement in the window.

This time, he was certain it was her. Eleanor.

And the next time, he promised himself, he would get closer.

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Chapter 2 coming soon. // make sure you give Alvin the support he needs for making green ribbon! I was inspired ^^

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