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The Hollow That Time Forgot
Part -3
Jack stood in the stillness of the Appalachian night, the fire throwing long, restless shadows across the trees. The storm of the night before had passed, but the silence that replaced it carried an edge sharper than any thunder. Ethan lay a few feet away, staring at the compass in his hand, the brass catching the glow of the flames.
🧭 The needle twitched.
Not the usual, gentle movement of a magnetic pull, but a quick, unnatural shiver—like the instrument itself was alive, sensing something just beyond their understanding.
Ethan sat up, his brows furrowed. “Dad… does your compass normally do this?”
Jack glanced over, chewing on a strip of jerky he’d pulled from his pack. “What do you mean?”
Ethan turned the compass toward him. The needle danced—not toward true north, but sideways, jittering, as if caught between two worlds.
Jack’s face hardened. He stood, walked over, and knelt beside his son. “It’s starting again,” he muttered under his breath.
Ethan tilted his head. “Starting again? What do you mean again?”
Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d hoped to wait a little longer before telling Ethan. But the mountains weren’t going to wait. The past had already caught up with them.
The Secret Journal 📖
Jack reached into his leather satchel and pulled out a small, weathered notebook. Its leather cover was cracked, edges worn thin by years of handling. Ethan leaned closer, curiosity lighting his face.
“This,” Jack said, his voice softer now, “belonged to my grandfather. He carried it when he worked these hills as a logger, back in the 1920s.”
Ethan blinked. “Okay, but what does that have to do with a twitchy compass 🧭?”
Jack handed him the notebook. “Read the first page.”
Ethan opened it carefully. The handwriting was faded but legible:
August 12, 1927. The Hollow. Not a place marked on any map. Compass spins here. Stars shift at night. The men don’t talk about it, but they feel it too. The woods are older than us. Older than anyone.
Ethan looked up, his voice caught between disbelief and excitement. “The Hollow? What is that—like a hidden valley or something?”
Jack nodded. “That’s what he called it. Said it was a place where time felt different. The compass needle never sat still. Some nights, he claimed the stars overhead didn’t match any chart.”
Ethan laughed nervously. “So… your grandpa found Narnia in the Appalachian Mountains?”
Jack chuckled, though his eyes stayed serious. “That’s what I thought when I was your age too. But then I found this.” He turned the compass 🧭 in Ethan’s hands, showing him the faint, nearly invisible engraving on its back—an old symbol, half-worn away by time.
Ethan squinted. It matched the symbol sketched in the journal’s margins.
His stomach dropped. “Wait… you’re saying this compass 🧭 was his?”
Jack nodded slowly. “Passed down to me. And now…” He looked his son in the eye. “…maybe to you.”
The Pull of the Compass 🧭
The next morning, they broke camp early, the compass clutched in Ethan’s palm. The air smelled fresh after the storm, pine and damp earth mixing with the faint scent of smoke from their fire.
“Which way are we going?” Ethan asked.
Jack pointed to the compass. “Not north. We’re going that way.”
The needle quivered, pointing toward a dense ridge to the east. It wasn’t a marked trail, and Ethan knew enough about hiking to realize this was the kind of route that usually ended with someone on the evening news.
“Uh, Dad? You sure about this?” Ethan asked, half-joking, half-serious.
Jack just grinned. “Adventure doesn’t wait for paved paths.”
And so they went—climbing over mossy rocks, pushing through thick brush, crossing streams where the water numbed their feet. Ethan grumbled now and then, but deep down, he felt something stirring. This wasn’t just a hike. It was bigger. It was like the compass 🧭 was pulling not just at his hand, but at his soul.
Hours later, sweaty and mud-streaked, they stumbled into a clearing—and froze.
The Forgotten Camp ⛏️
Before them lay the skeleton of an old logging camp. Collapsed cabins sagged under years of moss and ivy. Rusted tools lay half-buried in the dirt. A section of narrow rail track, once used for hauling timber, disappeared into the trees like a road to nowhere.
Ethan whistled. “Man… this place hasn’t seen life in a hundred years.”
Jack walked slowly, his boots crunching over broken boards. “This is where he worked. My grandfather.”
Ethan knelt beside a half-toppled post, brushing away leaves. His breath caught. Carved deep into the wood was the same symbol from the journal.
His voice dropped. “Dad… look.”
Jack joined him, staring silently. His jaw tightened, not from surprise—but from recognition.
Ethan’s pulse quickened. “So it’s real. The Hollow. The compass 🧭. All of it.”
Jack nodded once, gravely. “We’re close.”
The Telescope’s Revelation 🔭
That night, as the fire crackled in the ruins of the old camp, Ethan couldn’t sleep. He kept turning the compass 🧭 over in his hand, the symbol etched into his mind. Finally, he sat up and pulled out the Antique-Style Brass Traveling Telescope 🔭 Jack had packed.
He aimed it at the ridges beyond, scanning the tree line. At first, all he saw was endless forest, shadows stretching under the moonlight. Then—he froze.
Far below, tucked in a valley between two massive ridges, a faint glow shimmered. Not fire. Not electric light. Something else. Something older.
His heart hammered. “Dad! You need to see this.”
Jack stirred awake, took the telescope, and peered through. For a long moment, he said nothing.
Finally, in a hushed voice, he whispered, “The Hollow.”
Ethan swallowed. “That’s it, isn’t it? The place he wrote about?”
Jack lowered the telescope, his expression unreadable. “It has to be.”
For the first time in his life, Ethan saw his father not as the strong, steady man who always had the answers—but as someone standing on the edge of the unknown, just as lost and awed as him.
Echoes in the Dark 🌌
They sat in silence, the glow flickering far below. The night air pressed heavy, carrying with it a stillness that felt… wrong.
And then it came.
A howl.
Not the sharp cry of a coyote, nor the deep-throated call of a wolf. This was different—longer, stranger, a sound that didn’t belong in any woods.
Ethan’s stomach knotted. “What… what was that?”
Jack didn’t answer. He just stoked the fire higher, his eyes scanning the shadows.
Another howl rose, closer this time. Then another.
Ethan gripped the compass 🧭 like a lifeline. The needle spun wildly, as if panicked.
Jack placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. His voice was steady, but low. “No matter what happens… we keep moving forward. That valley down there—it’s calling us. And if your great-grandfather was right, we may not be the first to hear it.”
Ethan nodded, his fear mixing with a surge of adrenaline. This wasn’t just about adventure anymore. This was about destiny. About finishing a journey that began long before either of them was born.
The fire popped, sending sparks into the dark. The howls echoed again, circling. The Hollow awaited them. And whatever lived within it…
did too.
Echoes in the Dark 🌌
Echoes in the Dark 🌌
They sat in silence, the glow flickering far below. The night air pressed heavy, carrying with it a stillness that felt… wrong.
And then it came.
A howl.
Not the sharp cry of a coyote, nor the deep-throated call of a wolf. This was different—longer, stranger, a sound that didn’t belong in any woods.
Ethan’s stomach knotted. “What… what was that?”
Jack didn’t answer. He just stoked the fire higher, his eyes scanning the shadows.
Another howl rose, closer this time. Then another.
Ethan gripped the compass like a lifeline. The needle spun wildly, as if panicked.
Jack placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. His voice was steady, but low. “No matter what happens… we keep moving forward. That valley down there—it’s calling us. And if your great-grandfather was right, we may not be the first to hear it.”
Ethan nodded, his fear mixing with a surge of adrenaline. This wasn’t just about adventure anymore. This was about destiny. About finishing a journey that began long before either of them was born.
The fire popped, sending sparks into the dark. The howls echoed again, circling. The Hollow awaited them. And whatever lived within it… did too.
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