The small town of Cedar Hollow was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else’s business—or so it seemed. Tucked away in a valley surrounded by dense woods, it was a town full of quirks and oddities, the kind that never made it past local gossip. But the real strangeness of Cedar Hollow wasn’t whispered in the coffee shop or the church pews. It lived on the Cryptic Watch forum, a poorly designed but fiercely active online space where conspiracy theorists, cryptid enthusiasts, and amateur sleuths traded theories about the inexplicable happenings in their town.
Jules Adler, a 23-year-old video editor with a sharp wit and sharper skepticism, ran the forum. What had started as a joke—a parody site poking fun at the town’s bizarre legends—quickly spiraled into something serious when she realized how passionate, and occasionally well-informed, her neighbors were about the oddities in Cedar Hollow. Jules didn’t believe in aliens, government experiments, or cryptids, but she loved a good story. And Cedar Hollow delivered.
It began with reports of unearthly lights.
One Thursday evening, Jules sat hunched over her laptop in the cramped kitchen of her apartment, scrolling through a thread titled “Glowing Orbs in the Woods: Military Test or Alien Activity?” It was filled with grainy photos and shaky cellphone videos of floating blue lights spotted near the tree line just outside town.
“They’re drones,” Jules muttered to herself, typing a reply. Or swamp gas. People really want to see aliens, huh?
She hit send and was about to log off when a new post popped up from a user named Watcher99, a member who had only recently joined.
> Watcher99: The lights are not what you think. Meet me at the old mill at midnight. Bring a flashlight.
Jules snorted. “Yeah, that’s not ominous or anything.”
She had no intention of following through—until the next morning when she checked the forum again. The thread had exploded overnight, filled with users claiming to have seen the lights. Some said they heard strange whispers accompanying the orbs, while others insisted they felt an inexplicable pull toward the woods.
Curiosity tugged at her. What if there was something real out there? Not aliens, of course, but maybe something worth debunking. Besides, it wasn’t like Jules had anything better to do on a Friday night.
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At 11:45 p.m., Jules parked her beat-up hatchback near the abandoned mill at the edge of the woods. A heavy mist clung to the ground, and the distant hum of crickets and frogs filled the air. She wrapped her jacket tighter around herself, gripping her flashlight like a weapon.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“This is how horror movies start,” she muttered, stepping toward the mill’s rusted entrance.
Inside, the air smelled of damp wood and decay. Moonlight streamed through broken windows, casting jagged shadows across the floor. Jules scanned the room with her flashlight.
“Hello? Watcher99? If this is some elaborate prank, I’m not amused.”
A faint shuffle echoed from the back of the mill. Jules spun around, her beam landing on a tall figure cloaked in a long, dark coat. A hood obscured their face, and they raised a hand in a gesture of peace.
“You came,” the figure said, their voice low and even.
Jules held her flashlight higher, squinting at them. “You’re Watcher99, I assume? Nice touch with the dramatic lighting.”
“I don’t have much time,” the figure said. “They’re already watching.”
Jules rolled her eyes. “Right, ‘they.’ Let me guess: shadowy government agents or lizard people?”
The figure stepped closer, their presence strangely imposing despite their calm demeanor. “The lights are a warning. They’re not drones or swamp gas. They’re here because something is coming.”
“Something like what?” Jules asked, her skepticism faltering under the weight of the figure’s intensity.
Before the figure could answer, a low hum filled the air, growing louder by the second. The ground trembled beneath Jules’s feet. She turned toward the sound, her flashlight flickering. Outside the mill, the blue lights had returned, bobbing and weaving like fireflies—but now they were brighter, almost blinding.
“What the hell is that?” Jules whispered.
“Proof,” the figure said. “But proof has consequences.”
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The lights swarmed toward the mill, surrounding it in a brilliant halo. Jules shielded her eyes as the hum grew deafening. When the noise finally ceased, she lowered her arm to find herself standing alone in the mill. The figure was gone, and so were the lights.
Her flashlight flickered back to life, and she stumbled outside, her heart pounding. The woods were eerily quiet, the mist heavier than before.
Back at her apartment, Jules uploaded a post to Cryptic Watch describing the encounter. Responses poured in immediately, ranging from theories about interdimensional beings to claims that the lights were a message from an advanced civilization. But something about the night didn’t sit right with Jules.
The next day, she noticed an envelope tucked under her apartment door. Inside was a grainy photo of her standing outside the mill, surrounded by the blue lights. Scrawled across the back were the words:
“You’ve been marked.”
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Over the following weeks, Jules noticed strange things—her computer acting on its own, strangers lingering outside her building, cryptic emails flooding her inbox. The forum buzzed with excitement as more sightings of the lights were reported, but Jules found herself pulling back, unsure of how deep she wanted to go.
When the figure from the mill reappeared on the forum, warning that the lights were a harbinger of something darker, Jules realized she was no longer just an observer in the mysteries of Cedar Hollow. She was a part of them.
And whatever was coming, it wasn’t just sorta out there—it was headed straight for her.