The Forgotten Village
In a quiet afternoon, Bianca was driving through the countryside, looking for a shortcut to get home before dark. The sky was grey, and the wind felt strange. Her GPS stopped working, and her phone had no signal.
"I’ll just keep driving straight," she whispered to herself, gripping the wheel. "There must be a main road somewhere."
As she drove, the trees grew thicker, and the air got colder. Then, she saw it—a wooden sign covered in moss. It read:
“Welcome to Mariposa Town.”
Bianca frowned. “Mariposa Town? Never heard of it.”
Curious and a little uneasy, she drove into the village. The road was cracked, and old houses stood like forgotten bones. Everything was silent.
No birds. No people. No sounds.
She parked her car and stepped out. The wind howled. Bianca wrapped her arms around herself.
“Hello?” she called out. “Is anyone here?”
No answer.
She walked down the main street. The shops looked old—dusty windows, broken signs. One store had a sign that read “Bakery,” but there was moldy bread still sitting inside. It didn’t make sense.
“This place looks… dead,” she whispered.
Then she saw a figure.
An old woman stood at the end of the street. Her dress was black. Her skin looked dry, like paper. Her eyes were grey and wide open.
Bianca gasped. “Ma’am? Are you okay?”
The woman slowly raised a hand and pointed to a small church at the end of the road. Then she vanished.
Bianca blinked. “What the hell…”
She ran toward where the woman had been, but there was nothing there. No footprints. No sign she had ever been there.
Her heart pounded. “Maybe I imagined her. I should leave.”
She turned back toward her car—but it was gone.
“What?” Bianca shouted. “Where’s my car?!”
She ran to where it had been parked. The spot was empty. No tire marks. No sign of it.
Panic hit her. “Okay, okay. Maybe someone towed it. I need help.”
She walked to the church. The door creaked as she pushed it open.
Inside was cold. Rows of wooden benches faced a small altar. Candles were lit—even though no one was there.
Suddenly, she heard whispers.
She turned around. No one.
“Who’s there?” she called.
The whispers grew louder. She could hear her name.
“Bianca… Bianca…”
She backed away. “No, no, no. This is not real.”
She ran out of the church, her breath shaking.
Then she saw them.
People.
Men, women, and children. Standing in the street. All dressed in old clothes. All pale. All staring at her.
“Hello?” she said, her voice small.
They didn’t answer.
She stepped back. “What is this place?”
A little girl stepped forward. Her dress was torn, her pupils pitch red.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the girl said.
“I didn’t mean to come,” Bianca replied. “I got lost.”
The girl shook her head. “This village doesn’t exist. Not anymore.”
Bianca looked around. “Then how—”
“They died,” the girl whispered. “All of them. A hundred years ago. Fire. Sickness. Darkness.”
Bianca’s throat felt tight. “But… you’re all here.”
“They can’t leave,” the girl said. “And now… you can’t either.”
Bianca backed away, trembling. “But you’re alive!”
The girl shook her head slowly. “Not alive. Not like you.”
Bianca stumbled back. “This is a nightmare.”
Bianca turned and ran. She ran past the houses, past the church, deeper into the woods. Branches scratched her skin. Her legs ached. But she didn’t stop.
Finally, she found a small wooden cabin. She burst inside and slammed the door shut.
She sat on the floor, gasping. The room was dark, but quiet.
A man’s voice spoke behind her.
“You saw them, didn’t you?”
She turned. An old man sat in a rocking chair, holding a lantern.
“You’re alive?” Bianca asked.
“Barely,” he said. “I’ve been hiding for years. Don’t go back out there.”
“I have to get out,” she said. “My car is gone. My phone doesn’t work.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s what they do. They trap you. Just like they did to me.”
Bianca looked at him, confused. “How long have you been here?”
He stared at the wall. “Since 1945.”
Her eyes widened. “But… that’s over eighty years!”
He didn’t blink. “Time moves differently in Mariposa town.”
Bianca stood up. “No. I can’t stay. I need to get out.”
The man grabbed her arm. His hand was ice cold.
“They’ll find you. Run! Hide!”
Suddenly, the lantern flickered and went out.
The door creaked open.
They were here.
The villagers stood outside. All of them. Smiling. Staring.
Bianca screamed and ran out the back door into the forest.
She didn’t know where she was going. Only that she had to run. Run far away from Mariposa town.
But the trees never ended.
The village never ended.
Every path led back to the church.
Every time she ran, she ended up at the same spot.
The little girl waited for her at the church steps.
“I told you,” she said. “You can’t leave.”
Bianca dropped to her knees, crying. “Please… let me go…”
The girl tilted her head. “Only one way out.”
Bianca looked up. “What is it?”
The girl smiled. “You must forget. Everything.”
“What?”
“Forget your name. Your life. Your past. Then you can be one of us.”
Bianca screamed, “No!”
Behind her, the old man stepped out of the shadows. He wasn’t breathing. His eyes were pale. He didn’t blink.
“You were helping me,” Bianca said.
His voice was cold. “I’ve always been with them.”
The girl smiled. “Yes. We wait. We always wait.”
“For what?” Bianca asked.
The girl’s eyes sparkled black.
She stepped forward.
“For someone like you.”
Then she turned to the old man and whispered: “Now… we have food.”
Bianca screamed as the darkness closed in.
One year later…
A man was driving through the countryside. His GPS failed. His phone died. He saw an old wooden sign:
“Welcome to Mariposa town.”
As he drove in, he noticed a young woman standing near the church, her eyes empty, her clothes old, her smile soft.
She whispered in the wind, “You shouldn’t be here…”
He stepped out of the car.
By the church steps, a little girl in a white dress stood, waving kindly.
An old man sat nearby, smiling … without blinking.
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