“Bethany, I’ll meet you in the car,” her mom called as Bethany slipped out the door, almost a shadow herself, heading for the bus stop. Heart pounding—nerves making her fingers twitch, excitement making her chest feel light—she faced her first day of college, determined to ride the city bus for the very first time. The idea of catching the bus at 6 am offered a thrilling sense of independence, but beneath, fear fluttered in her stomach. She’d watched those buses glide down the main roads, always wondering what stories the passengers carried. Their tired faces never matched her excitement; today, though, hope and anxiety pulsed together under her skin. Today belonged to her, and nothing—not even watching the regulars’ resigned routine—could dim her anticipation. She took a shaky breath, pushing away hesitation, desperate to prove this would be her day.

As she walked down the sidewalk, a dense fog snaked around her legs and drifted up to wrap her shoulders. Her breath caught, uncertainty quickening her pulse as unease settled in. The mist crawled across the ground with her, muffling every sound and blurring the edges of streetlamps. Her hands tightened into fists inside her pockets, driven by a small, growing apprehension. “Whoa,” she whispered, a tremor betraying her fear and loneliness as familiar shapes dissolved into gray.

Bethany pulled her hood up, rubbing her hands for warmth before tucking them deep into her pockets. The bus stop was five blocks away, her path winding past a small, long-neglected farm. She peered through the thick fog. The old farmhouse crouched behind unruly trees and bushes, its outline barely visible as the mist clung to every surface, swirling in the hollows. Bethany zipped her jacket higher and quickened her steps.

Two minutes into her walk, a pinprick of light blinked from the forest’s shadows at the edge of her vision. Fear pricked sharply at the back of Bethany’s mind—her breath grew shallow, and doubt filled her thoughts. She slowed and glanced over her shoulder, shoulders tensing with anxiety. Another faint flicker danced between the trees, making her hands shake slightly. Tension coiled in her legs as her heart thudded harder, sweat prickled along her hairline, and the earlier excitement drained into uneasy dread.

“What?” Bethany muttered.

She made it to the stop sign, intercepting the four-way.

Three blocks to go.

“Boo.” Someone shouted behind her.

Bethany jumped, turning to her assailant. “Dammit, Stephanie.”

“Saw you zoned out by the farm. Creepy, right?”

“Yeah, it does. I thought they tore the place down.”

“That’s what the officials say.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean. I don’t know. I thought it was a cover-up to keep people away.”

“But I saw a whole demolition crew. You did, too.”

Stephanie clicked her tongue. “Well…”

“Anyway. Did you see lights shining from there when you stalked up behind me?”

Stephanie snorted. “You sound like the weirdos at night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen people go there, never leave. Watched—they just vanish. Maybe it’s that old guy.”

“You watched all day? Anyway… what happened to him?”

“His wife’s lover hung him last year. Since then, people see and hear creepy stuff.”

Bethany’s eyes widen. “So, all those missing person reports are from here?”

“Not sure. Maybe most. You scared you’ll be next?”

Bethany shouldered her friend. “No. I was just asking.”

“Okay,” Stephanie smirked. “Excited to ride the bus?”

“I was.”

Stephanie laughed low. “Don’t be scared. Wanna check out the old farm? We have some time to kill.”

“What?” Bethany snapped.

“Come on. I’ll show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“You’re going to take me to where people have gone missing?”

“Yup.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Going might clear things up. Maybe those missing people are just squatting. Most were homeless.”

Bethany shook her head. “I don’t know. What about the bus?”

“You’re thirty minutes early, Mary Poppins. Ten minutes tops. I wanted to go.”

“What stopped you from going?”

“I don’t want to go by myself,” Stephanie admitted.

“Fine. Ten minutes tops.”

“Awesome.” Stephanie grabbed her arm and led her on.

To get to the property, they had to go through a small woodland, something Bethany wasn’t happy about.

“Why the woods? Why not the driveway?”

“You gave me ten minutes. This is faster.”

They stopped before a dense thicket of trees. Bethany hesitated, her anxiety intensifying as she noticed the fog seemed heavier here, swirling just above the ground and thickening into a nearby wall among the trunks. Her stomach knotted in dread, and she swallowed hard, fighting the urge to turn back.

“I don’t know.”

“Come on.” Stephanie pushed ahead, brushing away bushes.

The girls followed a narrow dirt path, winding down and then rising again toward the ruined house. Bethany’s goosebumps intensified as she entered the clearing.

“We should head back.”

“Why? The house is right there.”

The farmhouse stood like a skeleton, stripped of walls and crowned by a collapsed roof. Weathered debris littered the ground, mingling with overturned furniture and rusted appliances. Beyond the wreckage, a small shed lingered, untouched except for the slow decay of years.

Bethany turned to her friend. “Okay. I’m good now. There’s nothing here.”

Stephanie stared at the shed with glossy eyes.

“What?” Bethany said. “Why did you stop? Come on, let’s go.”

Stephanie shoved past her friend and through piles of rubble towards the shed.

Bethany shouted. “Stephanie. Stop.”

Bethany ran up and grabbed her. “What are you doing?”

Stephanie mumbled. “He wants me to check out the shed.”

“Who? No. Get your ass back. We’re going to the bus stop.”

A cold breeze brushed Bethany’s neck, making her shudder and loosen her hold. Suddenly, Stephanie shoved her, and Bethany tumbled into a snarl of thorns.

“Shit.” She clawed at the vines, panic surging in her chest as fear overwhelmed her senses. Thorns dug into her palms, sharp pain intensifying her desperation. “Where did these even come from?” Hands shaking and breath coming in gasps, she forced herself free despite the pain, heart hammering with terror.

“Stephanie.” Bethany rose to her feet. An eerie silence surrounded her. “Stephanie!”

A sharp bang echoed from the shed. Bethany’s head snapped toward the sound. “Fuck,” she muttered, biting her lip. “This better not be another prank.”

Bethany sprinted to the shed, flung the door wide, and screamed. She stumbled backward, her hand clamped over her mouth.

“Stephanie. What the fuck…” She let the words echo in the nearly empty space around her.

Stephanie’s body swayed from a noose knot wrapped around the ceiling’s joists. Blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. Liquid pooled beneath her legs.

Bethany swiveled around, fumbling in her pocket with trembling fingers. She pulled out her cell phone, feeling hopelessness fighting panic. From behind, she heard a faint moan. “Stephanie,” she whispered, terror closing in and making her nearly drop the phone.

“No.” An unknown voice called from the darkness.

Bethany staggered back, her breath catching, chest tight as icy terror flooded her veins.

“Stay. With. Me.”

Bethany trembled. As the sun crept higher, pale light spilled across the shed’s wall. Stephanie’s body hung, gently swaying. Tears blurred Bethany’s vision.

“Stay.” The voice beckoned as a shadow moved closer to her.

Move. Move. Move, dammit.  Terror roared in her mind, freezing her legs.

“Stay.”

Her hair lifted, and cold crept up her shoulders. Icy hands wrapped around her neck.

“Stay.”

“No,” Bethany said, sprinting out of the shed. She ran back to where she had entered, crying and repeating, “I’m sorry.”

Bethany refused to look back, terror choking her and leaving her insides hollow. She couldn’t bear another glimpse of her friend—or the lurking shadow—fear gripping her so tightly it squeezed the breath from her lungs. Her steps pounded out a frantic rhythm, each one loaded with guilt for leaving Stephanie behind. Breath coming in ragged gasps, grief and self-blame took turns crashing over her as she ran.

Breathless, she fumbled for her phone and dialed 9-1-1. “Hello? Please, send an ambulance to 1534—the farmhouse in the woods. My friend—” Her voice cracked, frantic and raw. “My friend,” she sobbed, the words dissolving as despair closed her throat. Her hands shook so badly she nearly dropped the phone, tears blurring her vision as terror resurfaced.

“Ma’am, ” the operator continued. There is no building on that lot. We’ve received so many reports about strange occurrences that the city bulldozed and removed its property some time ago. Are you sure it’s the farmhouse?”

The phone dropped from Bethany’s shaken hand.

“Hello?”