THE ECHOES OF HOLLOWRIDGE

It was a dark and stormy night.

The kind that swallowed sound and bent shadows into strange, creeping shapes. Lightning carved jagged scars across the sky as Nora Bennett guided her truck along the narrow, twisting road that led to Hollowridge.

She should’ve canceled the trip. But her sister, Lily, had stopped answering her phone three days ago—and the only clue she left behind was a voicemail whispering:

“Don’t come here at night.”

Nora came anyway.

1. The House That Waited

When Nora reached the old family home, rain hammered the roof hard enough to feel through the steering wheel. She stepped out, gripping her flashlight, boots sinking into mud.

The windows of the house glowed faintly, though she knew no electricity had run through the place for years.

“It was a dark and stormy night,” Nora muttered to herself, trying to summon courage. “Perfect time to get murdered by ghosts.”

The wind answered with a hollow moan.

Inside, the house was cold enough to bite. Nora swung her flashlight across the living room—dust, broken furniture, and the faint smell of lavender, her mother’s old perfume.

“Lily?” she called.

Silence.

Then—

A whisper. Faint. Upstairs.

“It was a dark and stormy night,” the whisper mimicked, as though mocking her.

Nora froze.

She knew that voice.

It was Lily’s.

2. The Warning on the Wall

The staircase loomed ahead, each step groaning as Nora climbed. Her flashlight flickered with every thunderclap.

When she reached the landing, she saw it:

A message scrawled along the hallway wall in crimson, letters jagged and uneven.

DON’T LET THE STORM IN.

Nora touched the writing. It wasn’t paint.

Her stomach tightened.

It was then she noticed something else—thin trails of water leading from the end of the hall into Lily’s old bedroom.

Water… on the second floor?

“It was a dark and stormy night…” Nora whispered, repeating the phrase like a shield.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

She spun around—

Nobody.

But the whisper came again, brushing right against her ear:

“Don’t let the storm in…”

Nora ran to Lily’s room.

3. The Thing in the Corner

The bedroom window was wide open. Rain poured inside, soaking the floor and the bed. Lightning flashed—and in that brief white burst Nora saw someone sitting in the far corner.

A figure.

Knees pulled to chest.

Hair dripping.

“Lily?” Nora breathed.

Another flash of lightning—

The figure vanished.

Nora’s pulse hammered. She approached the corner slowly, lantern breath shallow, flashlight trembling.

“Lily, please… I’m here. Just say something.”

The room answered only with the steady hiss of rain.

Then…

Something touched her ankle.

Nora yelped, stumbling backward—just as a pale hand shot out from under the bed and grabbed her boot.

A voice followed, ragged and frantic:

“It was a dark and stormy night—don’t let it in!”

“Lily!” Nora dropped to her knees and reached under the bed. “Give me your hand! I’ll pull you out!”

But when her fingers brushed her sister’s skin, the arm dissolved into cold mist.

Nora choked on a scream.

4. The Storm That Walked

The lights in the house flickered—though there was no power.

Thunder rumbled closer, deeper.

In the hallway, the wind picked up.

Not through the window—

But inside the walls.

A low growl rippled through the air.

Nora backed away from the bedroom door as something dark pooled under it—slowly, like ink sliding across paper.

The shape rose.

Shifted.

Formed a towering silhouette made entirely of swirling black vapor. Rain hissed and steamed off its body as if the storm itself had taken shape.

Two hollow eyes opened in the darkness.

Nora stumbled. “Wh-what are you?”

The figure leaned forward, its voice like rolling thunder:

“It was a dark and stormy night when I found her.”

Nora’s blood ran cold.

“Lily…” she whispered.

Lightning flashed.

The creature flinched backward.

The shadows on the walls shriveled where the light touched them.

Nora’s mind raced.

It feared the lightning.

She grabbed her phone, fumbling to turn on the flashlight app.

But the device flickered and died in her hands.

The creature surged closer.

5. The Lantern in the Attic

With nowhere else to run, Nora bolted up the second staircase—the one that led to the attic. Her mother always kept a lantern up there.

If she could find it… maybe she could hold the creature off until sunrise.

It was a dark and stormy night—

The worst time to hide in an attic—

But she had no choice.

The attic door slammed behind her. Nora locked it, heart thundering.

She scanned the cluttered room, searching.

Thunder boomed overhead, shaking dust loose from the beams. In that momentary flash of light, she saw the lantern hanging from a nail on the far wall.

Nora sprinted toward it.

The attic door thudded behind her—once, twice. The creature was coming. The hinges groaned under the pressure.

“Hurry, hurry…” she whispered, grabbing the lantern.

Her hands trembled as she clicked the old lighter built into the base. For a terrifying moment, the wick refused to spark.

Then—

Flame.

Dim. Shivering. But alive.

“It was a dark and stormy night,” Nora whispered to the flame, “but not for long…”

The door burst open.

6. The Confrontation

The storm creature surged inside, tall enough to scrape the ceiling, its body swirling with black rain and shattered wind.

Nora raised the lantern.

The creature hissed, shrinking back—but didn’t disappear.

“This house is mine,” it growled. “She invited me in.”

Nora shook her head. “You tricked her.”

“She listened,” the storm said. “Just like you are listening now.”

The lantern flickered.

The creature began to grow, feeding on the flicker.

Nora gasped. “No—stop!”

“If the light goes out,” it whispered, “you’ll join her.”

Nora’s mind flashed back to the writing on the wall:

DON’T LET THE STORM IN.

She understood now.

The storm wasn’t just outside.

It broke into homes.

Into minds.

Into fear.

Nora tightened her grip. “Get away from us!”

The lantern flame flared bright—

Brighter—

Blindingly bright—

The storm creature screamed as its body evaporated in a violent swirl of vapor, ripped apart by the light.

And then—

Silence.

Only rain on the roof.

Soft. Calm.

7. The Whisper After

Nora lowered the lantern, chest heaving.

“It’s over,” she whispered. “Lily… I hope you’re at peace.”

A gentle wind brushed her hair.

A familiar voice—warm, soft, relieved—whispered from behind her:

“It was a dark and stormy night, Nora… but you brought the morning.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“Goodbye, Lily.”

The attic air grew warm, almost comforting, as if someone unseen touched her cheek.

Then the presence faded.

For good.

8. Dawn Over Hollowridge

Nora stepped outside just as the clouds parted and sunlight spilled across Hollowridge. The air smelled fresh, washed clean.

She took a deep breath, gripping the lantern at her side.

Last night would haunt her forever.

But she had survived.

And she knew one thing for certain:

Whenever the storms returned—

Whenever night grew too quiet and the wind whispered too close—

She would relight the lantern.

Because it was a dark and stormy night that tried to break her.

And it was a dark and stormy night she had beaten.