Only faint glimmers of starlight from the Milky Way shined against the darkness. A cooling breeze whispered through the trees as Kaitlynn Pete sat on the back porch in an old rusty chair.
A few months back, she’d moved to this secluded town, and it wasn’t until recently she’d been able to relax and not jump at every sound. Not a random shadow or sudden breeze disturbed her as much now as it had when she’d first discovered this place.
Still, she had every reason to be watching her back.
She’d been driving towards Hollow Creek, and felt a strong urge to turn and drive up a long dirt road towards a house that appeared to have been uninhabited for years.
When she stepped out of her Jeep and explored the property, somehow, deep down, she’d known it was fate—like she was meant to be here.
The large, rundown, craftsman-style cottage was in a clearing surrounded by dense woods filled with pine trees. The dilapidated roof clung to the house, sagging and on the verge of collapse. Patches of sunlight peeked through the missing shingles and the rotting wood.
Despite its current state, she could envision the potential of the old house—with some significant updates and repairs. The wide wrap-around porch, covered in overgrown vines and cobwebs, would look stunning with a swinging bed swaying in the breeze and colorful flowers hanging from the porch ceiling.
She imagined herself sitting in a rocking chair, sipping lemonade and enjoying the view.
The windows were dirty. Some were cracked and would need to be replaced, but she saw them as an opportunity for light to flood the space once they were restored.
The front door looked unsalvageable, which was sad, but she could have another one custom-built.
The land was thick with weeds, and the grass was so long it looked like she might need a machete to hack through it.
It was more than doable. She loved fixing up old houses and couldn’t resist the chance to restore another one, preserving its original charm—with modern touches, of course.
She sipped her wine and sighed. She’d known, without a shadow of a doubt, this would be her new home. Once she had settled in town, she’d looked up the local realtor and had bought the property almost immediately.
The realtor, Emma, had raised her eyebrows in surprise when Kate told her she wanted to buy the rundown house, with no concern about its issues or how much money and effort it would take to rehab it.
“I’ve got to tell you, no one has lived there for, gosh, more than fifty years, I think? There are stories about ghosts, and the local kids like to go out there and mess around,” Emma said, tapping her pencil on her desk.
“It’s okay. I have a good feeling about this,” Kate smiled. “I’ve rehabbed a few houses, and this time, it feels right. Almost like I’ve been there before.”
“Okay,” Emma chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, the last thing I’d ever want to do is pass up a sale. Most people I know aren’t too keen on ghosts and dark, cryptic histories.”
Shifting to a more comfortable position in the big, soft chair next to Emma’s desk, Kate looked at the realtor, her eyes shining. “I’m not most people,” she grinned. “I’ve always loved creepy ghost stories, and I love history. It’s always been a huge interest of mine and it helps with inspiration when I’m writing. When I was a kid, I had a pretty scary experience.”
“Seriously? Do tell!”
Leaning back in the chair, Kate crossed her legs and continued.
“After my father passed away, my mom and I moved into a new house. One night, I woke up to the sound of water running in the bathroom down the hall. So I got out of bed and walked down the hallway toward the bathroom, and as I got closer, the sound of running water got even louder.
“When I peeked around the corner, I saw this figure standing in front of the sink, staring into the mirror. I remember standing in the doorway, frozen in shock because I could see the window through the figure—all of it. I could literally see through the apparition standing there with the water running. I gasped, and when she turned and looked at me—she had no face!
“I screamed, ran back to my bedroom, and hid under the covers. When my mom ran in and asked me what was wrong, I told her about it and she looked confused. She told me she hadn’t heard any water running. I insisted she check again. She did and confirmed the water wasn’t running and there was no one in the bathroom.”
“Wow!” Emma exclaimed. “I can’t imagine what I would do if I saw something that.” She thought for a moment. “Yeah, I do. I would’ve peed my fucking pants!”
Kate laughed. “You know what? I’m surprised I didn’t, to be honest. My mom and I did some research, and it turns out a woman had died in the house close to fifty years before. Someone had bashed her face in. Which made sense later when I thought about it. Why was she looking in the mirror, and why couldn’t I see her face? It was almost as if she was trying to tell me what happened to her.”
“So, you talk to dead people?” Emma asked with a snicker as she sat in the chair next to Kate and crossed her legs.
“Shit, no!” Kate laughed. “That’s the only time something like that has happened. I ended up writing about it in my journal, which led to me writing stories and then a few best-selling books, and here I am,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“Wait, you’re the Kaitlynn Pete?” Emma’s eyes widened as she leaned in. “The one who narrowly escaped the crazy stalker?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Listen, could you try to keep that between us? All I want is to be able to relax and work with no publicity for as long as possible. And please, call me Kate.”
“Oh, of course! Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul, Kate.” Emma agreed. “If anyone understands wanting to keep something quiet, it’s me.” Without further explanation, she stood up from the chair and went back to her desk, quickly changing the subject. “So why don’t we get those papers signed, shall we?”
Since then, she and Emma had hung out often, becoming fast friends.
Over the past couple of weeks, Kate had mostly kept to herself, diligently working on her new book. She’d even explored some trails in the woods surrounding the town and Hollow Lake with her camera, taking pictures for her portfolio.
Construction on the house would start next week, and she looked forward to getting her hands dirty. The company she’d hired had just finished another job and would be there Monday morning after breakfast.
Emma had recommended the contractor. She’d told Kate it was owned by a local family that had lived in Hollow Creek for generations, setting the project up with one of the owners, Oliver Cassidy. He’d informed her his brother and partner, Noah, the lead contractor, was out of town for business and would return this weekend.
Sighing, she stood, took one last look up at the night sky, and walked back to her Jeep.
She had been staying at The Creek, a local B&B Emma had also recommended. The apartment took up the entire top floor of an old Victorian mansion downtown. It had a four-poster bed, fireplace, fully equipped kitchen, and a terrace where she could have her morning coffee and write.
The adjoining bathroom boasted a beautiful claw-foot tub, and the idea of a relaxing bath and another glass of wine made her smile.
