Mother Village -ch. 1- -ch. 2 V1.0- By Shadow... -

Elara’s memory snapped into focus. She’d dreamed of this well every night for a month before her mother disappeared for good. In the dream, voices rose from the water—not screaming, not whispering. Singing. A low, harmonic thrum that felt like being held underwater.

The old woman from before stepped forward. Her shawl had slipped, revealing a necklace of woven hair—gray, brown, black, and a few strands of bright red. Elara’s color.

“I inherited the Hawthorne property,” Elara said, voice steadier than she felt.

Her name, spoken from the water. Not a voice, exactly. More like a vibration that traveled up through the stones, into her bones. Mother Village -Ch. 1- -Ch. 2 v1.0- By SHADOW...

The Hawthorne house stood at the edge of the village, half-swallowed by ivy. Its windows were dark, its porch sagging, but the garden—the garden was impossibly lush. Roses the color of dried blood climbed the walls. In the backyard, a massive oak stretched its arms over a well.

“Elara.”

Elara spun. An old woman stood in a doorway, shawl pulled tight. Her face was a map of wrinkles, but her eyes—those eyes were too young. Too clear. They held the same unsettling light as the village’s lone streetlamp, flickering though it was midday. Elara’s memory snapped into focus

The lullaby from her childhood surfaced in her mind. Her mother used to hum it while brushing her hair. Hush now, little bird, the Mother’s at the door. She’ll tuck you in the warm, dark earth, and you won’t cry no more.

She stumbled back. Her heel caught a root, and she fell hard on the damp soil. For a moment, she lay there, stunned. Then she felt it: the ground was warm. And it was pulsing , slow and steady, like a heartbeat.

The well.

By SHADOW...

“You shouldn’t have come back.”