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Tuesday, December 3, 2024

The Final Toll - Day 3 #25DaysOfChristmas


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Day 3: The First Ominous Signs

Megan woke up with a start, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The dull gray light of dawn filtered through the frost-laced windows of the cabin, casting long, spidery shadows across the floor. She lay still for a moment, her heart thudding in her chest as she tried to shake off the remnants of the night before—the tapping, the faint sound of a bell jingling somewhere in the darkness. She had wanted to get up, to check the door, but something had kept her frozen in place, an overwhelming sense of dread rooting her to the bed.

Now, in the cold light of morning, it was easy to dismiss it as a bad dream. But the unease lingered, settling deep in her bones.

She glanced over at Lisa, still asleep in the twin bed across from hers. Lisa's face was peaceful, untroubled by the strange occurrences. Megan wished she could shake off the feeling as easily.

Pulling on a sweater, she padded downstairs, the wooden floor creaking under her feet. The cabin was quiet, save for the occasional groan of the wind pressing against the walls. The fire had died down, leaving the room chilled and dim. The first thing she noticed was the mistletoe, still sitting on the table, its blackened leaves and sickly gray berries looking even more unnatural in the daylight.

And then there was the missing bell. She glanced at the mantel where it had been the night before. No one had mentioned it again after it disappeared, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Where had it gone? Why was it missing?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs. She turned to see Nate coming down, looking bleary-eyed and disheveled.

“Morning,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “Any more weird packages show up?”

Megan shook her head, but her lips pressed into a thin line. “Not yet. But I heard... something last night.”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Something?”

She hesitated, unsure of how to explain it without sounding ridiculous. “There was this... tapping. At the front door. And then... I swear I heard the bell. That same hollow sound it made when Tom rang it.”

Nate frowned, glancing toward the door as if expecting to see something standing there. “You sure it wasn’t just the wind? This place makes all kinds of creepy noises at night.”

“I’m sure,” Megan said, her voice firmer than she felt. “It wasn’t the wind.”

Before Nate could respond, Tom and Lisa joined them, both looking uneasy, as though they, too, had felt something was wrong, even if they hadn’t admitted it yet.

Lisa poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, her eyes drifting to the mistletoe. “That thing is still creeping me out. Why would someone leave something like that for us? It’s dead.”

Tom sighed, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know, but we can’t freak out over every weird thing that happens. Maybe it’s some strange local tradition. We’re in the middle of nowhere, remember? People out here probably have all kinds of old-school customs.”

Megan shook her head. “This isn’t normal. First the stocking, then the bell, now this. And the tapping last night... it felt like someone was messing with us.”

Tom opened his mouth to respond, but Nate cut him off.

“Okay, maybe this place is a little creepy,” Nate admitted, his usual calm demeanor slipping for the first time. “But it could still just be some weird prank, right? Like... someone from town trying to scare the tourists.”

Megan stared at him, the unease from the night before twisting into something sharper. “Then why haven’t we seen anyone? We’ve been here three days and haven’t seen a single person. No cars, no neighbors, nothing. This place feels completely cut off.”

“Exactly,” Lisa chimed in, her voice soft but tense. “No one’s been here, but we keep finding these... things.”

The room fell silent. They all knew she was right. The sense of isolation that had felt peaceful at first now felt ominous, as though the cabin were sitting on the edge of some dark, forgotten world.

Tom crossed his arms, his jaw clenched. “Alright, maybe we should head into town, see if there’s anyone around. Maybe even ask about the cabin—see if anyone knows who’s been up here.”

Relief washed over Megan. She wasn’t the only one feeling on edge. “I think that’s a good idea. Let’s get out of here for a few hours.”


The road into the nearby village, Raven’s Hollow, was as winding and treacherous as the one that had brought them to the cabin. The snow had piled high on either side of the road, and the trees seemed to crowd in closer, their dark branches reaching toward the van as if trying to hold them back. Megan couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, though she told herself it was just the eerie stillness of the woods.

The village appeared through the mist like something out of a forgotten storybook. Quaint, snow-covered houses with steep roofs and narrow streets gave it an old-world charm, but there was something wrong. The streets were empty, and not a single person was in sight. No cars, no footprints in the snow, nothing to indicate that anyone had been there in days—if not weeks.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Nate muttered as they parked in front of a small general store.

Megan stepped out of the van, her boots crunching in the snow, and shivered. The air here felt colder than it had at the cabin. Colder and... heavier. The wind was sharp, cutting through her layers of clothing, and for a moment she thought she could hear something carried on the breeze—a faint, distant whisper.

She looked at the others, but they didn’t seem to notice.

The general store’s door creaked loudly as they pushed it open. Inside, the smell of dust and old wood filled the air, and the shelves were lined with basic necessities—canned goods, bread, bottled water—but everything looked untouched, as if no one had shopped here in months. An ancient radio sat behind the counter, its dials rusted and caked in dust.

“Hello?” Tom called out, his voice echoing off the walls.

No answer.

They exchanged uneasy glances before Lisa pointed toward the back of the store, where a small hallway led to an office. “Maybe someone’s back there?”

Tom nodded and led the way, pushing open the door to the office.

It was empty, save for an old wooden desk and a single chair. But something on the desk caught Megan’s eye.

A small Christmas stocking.

It was exactly like the one they had found hanging on their door at the cabin—velvet, red with white trim. Her stomach lurched as she stepped forward, dread gnawing at her insides.

There was something inside it.

Without thinking, she reached out and pulled the stocking toward her. It was cold—so cold that she nearly dropped it. Her fingers trembled as she tipped it over, letting the contents fall onto the desk.

A single piece of folded paper tumbled out.

“What the hell?” Tom muttered, stepping closer.

Megan slowly unfolded the paper. The handwriting was neat, almost too perfect, as if it had been written by someone who had practiced each stroke over and over.

The note read:

"Day 3: The shadows grow. Don’t look behind you."

Megan’s breath caught in her throat as she read the words aloud. Lisa let out a small gasp, stepping back, her eyes wide with fear.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Nate whispered, his voice barely audible.

But before anyone could answer, the lights in the store flickered.

Once. Twice.

Then went out, plunging them into darkness.

Megan’s heart pounded in her ears, and the heavy silence pressed in on them. She could feel the others close by, could hear their ragged breathing. And then, from somewhere deep in the store, came a soft sound.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It was slow, deliberate, like the knocking from the night before. But this time, it wasn’t coming from the front door.

It was coming from inside the store.

“Tom,” Lisa whispered, her voice trembling. “What is that?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, his voice tight with fear.

Megan took a step back, her mind racing. The note—the warning.

"Don’t look behind you."

But her body betrayed her, and before she could stop herself, her head turned, her eyes scanning the dark aisles of the store.

At first, there was nothing—just rows of dusty shelves bathed in shadow.

And then she saw it.

A dark figure, standing at the end of one of the aisles, barely visible in the dim light. It was tall, impossibly tall, its body draped in shadows. Its face—if it had one—was hidden, but she could feel its eyes on her, cold and empty.

The figure didn’t move. It just stood there, watching.

“Megan,” Nate’s voice broke through her trance. “We need to go. Now.”

She tore her eyes away from the figure and bolted for the door, the others close behind her. They stumbled out into the cold, gasping for breath, their hearts racing.

“What the hell was that?” Lisa cried, her voice high with panic.

Megan shook her head, her hands trembling. “I don’t know. I don’t know, but we need to get back to the cabin.”

They piled into the van, their breath fogging the windows as Tom gunned the engine. The tires spun in the snow for a moment before catching, and they sped away from the village, the empty streets quickly swallowed by the trees.

But even as they left Raven’s Hollow behind, Megan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was following them. Something dark, something ancient.

And it wasn’t done with them yet.




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