Chapter 3: Return to the Woods

My heart skipped a beat. Why was everything lately connected to that old well?

It was as if fate had thrown a lasso around my neck and started to pull. Every sign, every random moment, seemed to lead me back to Silver Hollow and what we’d done.

Before I could process it, Marcus continued:

His voice was urgent, clipped. “The clearing where the well is has been picked by a developer. They want to build a luxury home there. You all need to hurry back so we can discuss what to do about Joey.”

I panicked. If they built a home, digging up the land would surely expose Joey’s remains.

Visions flashed in my mind—police tape, news vans, my face plastered across TV screens. Everything I’d built was at risk of collapsing overnight.

The secret we buried in the well with him would be revealed.

We’d always told ourselves it would stay hidden forever. Now, the past was threatening to surface, like a corpse refusing to stay buried.

I hung up and lied to my wife, saying I had a new case and would be gone for a couple weeks.

I forced a tired smile, kissed Emma on the forehead, and grabbed my briefcase. “Big client, honey. I’ll call every night.” She looked at me, worry flickering in her eyes, but didn’t press for details.

That night, I drove straight back to Silver Hollow.

The roads were mostly empty, headlights cutting through endless fields. Every mile closer, the air grew heavier—old memories clinging to the dashboard, the hum of the engine the only sound in the darkness.

When I arrived at the old well deep in the woods with my flashlight, four of the five of us who had done this together had already arrived.

Our flashlights bobbed through the underbrush, the beams darting between tree trunks. There was Marcus, chewing his lip; Eddie, who now ran a tech startup in Seattle; and Tommy, the silent one, eyes darting everywhere. We barely greeted each other—just a few stiff nods and muttered curses about the cold.

Only Derek, the leader who had come up with the idea back then, was missing.

We kept looking down the trail for him, our breaths fogging in the night air. Every snapping twig made us jump. Derek had always been the bravest—or the cruelest—but now, he was nowhere to be found.

We waited a long time for him, but he never showed up.

Our nerves frayed with each passing minute. Eddie checked his phone every few seconds, but the screen stayed dark. Eventually, Tommy spat on the ground. “Screw him. Let’s just get this over with.”

“If we don’t act now, it’ll be sunrise soon. We can’t wait for him any longer,” Marcus, who had called us, said impatiently.

Marcus’s words cut through the tension. The woods felt tighter, as if the trees themselves were closing in, urging us to move before dawn gave away our secret.

We all nodded in agreement. After sunrise, the developers would come to survey the land.

Nobody wanted to be caught in the daylight, shoveling dirt and lies. The thought of construction crews poking around the old well was enough to make us all hurry.

If we didn’t hurry, it would be too late.

Time was ticking, and for the first time since childhood, we all felt the pressure of something bigger than ourselves—something deadly serious.

The four of us worked together to move aside the stone, now covered in moss.

It took all our combined strength to roll the rock away. Moss squished beneath our gloves, the stone scraping against the lip of the well. The smell of damp earth and old leaves hit us, heavy with decades of secrets.

The wellhead, sealed for twenty years, let out a chilling low groan, and a puff of white mist drifted up from the well.

The sound was unnatural—an ancient, hollow moan that raised goosebumps on my arms. White vapor curled from the opening, swirling in the flashlight beams like breath from the grave. Nobody spoke; the only sound was our ragged breathing.

“This is really messed up. Dead for so many years, and still haunting us,” Marcus muttered under his breath.

He shivered, rubbing his arms. “You ever wonder if this place is cursed?” he whispered. Eddie snorted, but nobody laughed.

When the mist cleared, we all crowded around.

We leaned over, flashlights in hand, the beams probing the darkness. For a moment, it felt like we were kids again—curious, reckless, not understanding the danger we were in.

I remembered the old well wasn’t that deep back then.

Back in the day, we’d dared each other to dangle our legs over the side. But now, peering in, it seemed to go on forever. The stone walls were slick and cold, flecked with lichen.

But even with four flashlights, we couldn’t see the bottom. It was still pitch black inside.

Our lights pooled together, swallowed by shadow. The darkness felt alive, pressing upward as if trying to drag us down. I swallowed hard, steeling myself.

We hesitated, unsure who should go down to bring up the remains and those things.

Nobody wanted to volunteer. We traded glances, each waiting for someone else to step up. The silence stretched on, thick as the night itself.

Marcus pointed at me: “Caleb, you were always the outsider in town. We did you a favor bringing you along back then. Now it’s your turn to do the dirty work.”

His words stung, dredging up old wounds. The others nodded, faces hard, the years falling away. They needed a scapegoat, and I was it—just like always.

I was about to protest, but seeing the others’ unfriendly faces, I realized they had already made up their minds.

I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. Their stares were cold, unyielding. I felt like a kid again, outnumbered and outvoted.

With no other choice, I tied the rope around my waist and began to climb down the wall.

The rope dug into my hips as I lowered myself, my knuckles white on the nylon. My breath echoed off the stone, each footstep sending pebbles skittering into the void below. Every inch down felt like a mile.

As soon as I entered the old well, I shivered, a sense of dread spreading through me.

The temperature dropped, cold air licking at my skin. I fought the urge to climb back up, telling myself I was just being paranoid. But the feeling wouldn’t go away—a sense that something was watching from the dark.

I clung to the edge, not daring to go down further for a long time.

Sweat beaded on my brow despite the chill. I forced myself to keep moving, each breath shallow and ragged. The others’ voices were muffled now, barely audible from above.

“What are you waiting for? You want to get us all busted?”

Marcus’s shout echoed down the shaft, his impatience clear. I grit my teeth and tightened my grip.

Marcus raised a hammer, threatening to smash my hand.

I looked up and saw him brandishing a sledgehammer, the metal head glinting in the moonlight. The threat was real—if I hesitated, he’d make sure I had no choice.

I had no choice but to quickly climb down.

My feet slipped on the slick stones, and I descended as fast as I dared, the rope creaking with every movement.

The further I went, the more uneasy I felt.

The air grew thicker, each breath tasting of mildew and rust. My heart pounded, and I could feel sweat running down my back despite the cold.

When I was still some distance from the bottom, I shone my flashlight down.

The beam danced over the dirt, picking out odd shapes and shadows. Something glimmered—a ring, a fragment of bone?

A discolored skeleton lay on its back, mouth agape, staring up at me.

It was Joey—or what was left of him. The skull was tilted at a strange angle, jaw gaping wide as if frozen in a silent scream. My stomach lurched, bile rising in my throat.

My heart leapt, and my hand holding the flashlight shook.

I nearly dropped the light, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. For a second, I thought I might faint, but fear kept me moving.

Suddenly, I noticed that across from that skeleton, there was actually another skeleton.

I blinked, trying to make sense of the shapes. There—another set of bones, tangled with Joey’s. My mind raced. Had someone else fallen in? Or… had Derek come back, only to meet the same fate?

What was going on? Something was wrong!

A cold, sick dread settled in my gut. I tried to piece together the timeline, but nothing made sense. Who was the second skeleton?

“Ah!”

The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it, echoing up the well.

I screamed and started scrambling up the rope.

Pure terror took over, and I clawed at the rope, desperate to reach the top. My boots slipped against the stone, the rough edges scraping my shins raw.

At that moment, I heard the sound of rocks scraping above my head.

A grinding, scraping noise—heavy stones shifting. Panic surged as I realized what was happening.

I heard the scrape of stone above and my stomach dropped. This wasn’t about Joey anymore. They were sealing me in, just like before.

Their plan was clear as day. They weren’t here to right a wrong—they were here to bury it all over again, with me as collateral.

“What are you doing? Don’t seal the well! I’ll give you whatever you want!”

My shouts rang out, frantic and raw. I promised them anything—money, silence, even forgiveness. But the only answer was the thud of stone on stone.

“Your death is more important than anything! Once you’re gone, everything you have will be ours!”

Marcus’s voice was cold, greedy. My pulse pounded in my ears as I realized how much they had to lose—and what they’d do to keep it.

“Just stay down there and keep them company.”

Eddie’s voice joined in, mocking. “Figure it out, Turner. This is how it ends.”

With that, they cut the rope. With a thud, I fell heavily to the bottom of the well.

The world spun as the rope snapped and I crashed down, pain lancing through my body. Dust and debris rained down after me, stinging my eyes.

The moonlight at the wellhead vanished.

The last silver beam flickered out as they shoved the rock back into place, plunging me into total darkness.

With a rumble, the wellhead was sealed again with a large rock.

The sound was final, like the lid slamming shut on a coffin. My breath echoed back at me, hot and shallow.