The bus ride to the nearby town was a journey into a different world. The oppressive, gothic weight of Blackwood lifted with each mile, replaced by the simple, worn-down charm of a small mountain town clinging to the valley.
The town’s name, Last Rock, was painted on a faded wooden sign. Strings of cheerful, if slightly frayed, Christmas lights were draped over the eaves of clapboard shops, and a fresh dusting of snow blanketed the quiet streets. For the first time in months, they could breathe air that wasn't thick with the scent of secrets and stone.
They walked aimlessly for a while, savouring the anonymity. They were just three teenagers here. The cold nipped at their cheeks, a clean, honest discomfort.
Eventually, the grey sky threatened more snow, and the need for warmth and a private place to talk drove them towards a glowing, hand-painted sign that read “The Hearth”. It was a pub, its windows steamy from the warmth within.
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Pushing the heavy wooden door open, they were met by a wave of heat and the low murmur of afternoon patrons. The interior was dim, lit by a roaring fire in a vast stone fireplace and a few amber pendant lights over the polished bar. The air smelled of pine, roasting meat, old wood, and pipe smoke.
A burly man with a thick salt-and-pepper beard and watchful eyes looked up from polishing a glass. He gave a slow, assessing nod.
“Afternoon, folks,” he rumbled, his voice like gravel underfoot. “Get yourselves warm and comfortable. Booth in the back's free.”
They slid into the high-backed wooden booth, its seats worn smooth by generations. The bartender ambled over, a towel tucked into his apron.
“What can I get for you three? Hot chocolate? Spiced cider?” He gave them a look that was neither warm nor cold, simply observant. “The hard stuff's off the menu for you, just so we're clear. But the cocoa's the best this side of the mountains.”
“Three hot chocolates, please,” Alice said, offering a tentative smile.
“Coming right up!” He smiled, started to turn, then paused, his gaze sweeping over them—their Blackwood blazers, their too-clean shoes, the lingering wariness in their eyes. “You kids are from up at the school, aren't you? Blackwood Academy.”7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡODhWPfsmMI
The familiar dread coiled in their stomachs. Had they been followed? Was he a sentry?
The man seemed to read their tension. He gave a low, soft grunt that might have been a laugh. “Relax, kiddos! Name's Garrett. I run this place. I'm not one of them.” He stressed the word, investing it with a world of meaning. “See kids from the Rock every now and then. You all get the same look after a few months. Like you've seen something the rest of the world agreed to forget, and it's eating at you.”7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNq244aP63B
He left to get their drinks, leaving them in stunned silence. When he returned with three steaming mugs piled high with real whipped cream, he didn't immediately leave. He leaned a heavy forearm on the edge of the booth.
“Town's got its own stories about that place,” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur that blended with the crackle of the fire. 7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnr4aGuZaWT
“Old stories. My granddad used to tell 'em. About the warm rock in the courtyard that weeps in the summer drought.” He looked at each of them, his eyes holding a deep, weary knowledge. “You just be careful up there, you hear? Especially during the quiet times. The holidays... that's when the old house is left to its own thoughts. And its thoughts aren't always kind.”
With a final, firm nod, he returned to the bar, leaving them with their rich, sweet drinks and a new, chilling layer to the mystery. 7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5tGozpqQQh
The outside world knew. 7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAW78Klx1vL
Or at least, it remembered. 7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡInLofNAqMH
Blackwood's shadow stretched all the way to Last Rock, and in the warm, safe confines of The Hearth, they realized with a sinking certainty that their fight wasn't just for their own freedom. It was against something that had been rooted in that stone, whispering to the town below, for a very, very long time.
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and then Add to home screen.