Chapter 2: Faces in the Dark

I’d barely made it through two chapters when I heard something outside.

It sounded like a wolf’s howl, or maybe something straight out of a horror flick. The kind of sound that makes you sit up and listen, heart pounding in your chest.

The sound rose and fell, lonely and wild, echoing off the hills. My heart thudded so loud I could hear it in my ears. For a second, I wondered if all those old mountain legends were true. I held my breath, straining to catch the sound again.

I listened, but the noise faded away, leaving the night heavy and still. For a moment, I thought maybe I’d imagined it.

The silence that followed was almost worse, thick and heavy. I glanced at Savannah, but she was still out cold, her breathing deep and steady. I tried to shake off the feeling, telling myself it was just a coyote or some stray dog—nothing more.

Rubbing my temples, I set my phone down. Maybe it was just the long drive and the strangeness of this place getting to me.

The quiet was so thick I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. I tried to focus on the familiar weight of my blanket, the rhythm of my own breathing—anything to push back the unease curling in my gut.

Then the window glass made a sharp tapping sound, like someone flicking a marble against it.

I froze, every muscle locked. The sound was so sudden, so out of place, it made my heart leap into my throat. The tapping was too deliberate—not the wind, not a branch—someone was out there.

It wasn’t loud, but in the silence, it cut right through.

Each tap seemed to echo, sharper and more insistent every time. I yanked the blanket up to my chin, eyes wide, listening as the rhythm kept up—steady, stubborn, like whoever was out there wasn’t going away.

My bed was by the window; Savannah’s was by the door. I could feel the cold seeping through the glass, darkness pressing in on all sides. Savannah stirred, mumbling in her sleep, but didn’t wake. I reached for my phone—no signal, of course. No help coming from anywhere.

The tapping kept up, again and again. I curled tighter under my blanket, too scared to move. Savannah woke up, shivering, and asked:

"What’s going on?"

Her voice was thick with sleep, but I could hear the edge of fear in it. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, peering into the dark. I swallowed hard, trying to sound braver than I felt.

"I don’t know."

I barely got the words out before another sharp tap rattled the glass. Savannah’s eyes locked on mine, both of us frozen, caught between wanting to hide and needing to know what was out there.

The noise just kept coming. Savannah and I braced ourselves, flicked on the lamp, and yanked open the curtains. There was a face outside.

Pale and hollow-eyed.

It hovered just inches from the glass, features twisted by the harsh yellow light. For a split second, I thought it was a ghost, some lost soul from the hills. My scream split the silence, and Savannah lunged for me, her hands shaking as she tried to pull me away from the window.

I screamed and tumbled off the bed. Savannah, shaking, helped me up. We clung to each other, hearts pounding, the room spinning. The face didn’t move—just stared, unblinking, like it was waiting for something.

The face, seeing we’d opened the curtain, knocked again, staring right at us. The knock was slow, almost taunting—a dare. My skin crawled, every instinct screaming run, but my legs wouldn’t move. Savannah whispered my name, her voice barely more than a breath.

I don’t know how long it stayed before finally vanishing.

Time stretched and twisted, seconds dragging out like hours. When the face finally slipped away into the dark, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding. The room felt colder, emptier, like something had been stolen from it.

I grabbed a flashlight from my duffel and asked Savannah:

"Should we go check it out?"

My voice sounded steadier than I felt. I saw the answer in Savannah’s eyes before she even opened her mouth, fear written all over her face.

"N-no… What if it’s right outside the door?"

She hugged the blanket tighter, glancing at the door. I hesitated, torn between wanting answers and wanting to stay safe.

For some reason, I felt like whatever it was had gone.

There was a strange calm settling over the house, as if the danger had passed for now. I took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage I’d promised myself I’d have out here. No way was I letting fear win.