The Summer That Never Ended

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The car rumbled down the winding road, swallowed by towering pine trees and the thick scent of earth and rain. Ryan sat in the backseat, forehead resting against the cold glass, watching as the world blurred past him. His parents sat in the front, chatting idly about the upcoming vacation, while his younger sister hummed a tune, oblivious to his reluctance. A summer trip. Another forced excursion into some distant town his parents had chosen in an attempt to "bring the family closer." As if that ever worked. He was already overwhelmed with stress—college applications, constant pressure, and the gnawing feeling that nothing in his life made sense. He didn’t need this trip. He needed time alone. The town they arrived in was nothing spectacular. A small coastal village, hugged by rolling cliffs and open fields, with streets so quiet they felt frozen in time. The air smelled of salt, and the wind carried the distant echoes of seagulls. It was the place where everyone knew everyon...

The Night Man

 The legend of the Night Man was whispered in the small town of Greendale, an old mining community nestled deep in the woods. Parents told their children tales of the Night Man to keep them from wandering too far after dark. But as with all old stories, many dismissed it as superstition.


Jessica had just moved to Greendale with her young son, Timmy. After her husband's untimely death, she sought solace in the quiet town, hoping to escape the painful memories. The townsfolk were kind but reserved, their eyes often filled with a lingering fear.


One evening, while unpacking boxes, Jessica found an old, tattered journal. Its cover was worn, the pages yellowed with age. Curious, she opened it and began to read.


July 3rd, 1945

The Night Man came again last night. Mrs Harrington's dog was found dead this morning, its eyes wide with terror. The elders say he only comes for those who call his name. No one dares speak it aloud, especially after dark.


A chill ran down Jessica's spine as she read the entry. She closed the journal and decided it was best to focus on the present. As she tucked Timmy into bed that night, he asked, "Mommy, who’s the Night Man?"

Startled, she replied, "Where did you hear that name, sweetie?"

"Tommy at school told me. He said the Night Man comes to get you if you're bad."

Jessica kissed Timmy's forehead, trying to hide her unease. "It's just a story, darling. There's no such thing as the Night Man."

She turned off the light and closed the door, slightly ajar. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched as she walked down the hallway. The house, despite being warm and well-lit, seemed to grow colder.

Later that night, Jessica was awakened by a soft creaking sound. She sat up in bed, heart pounding. The sound seemed to come from Timmy's room. She hurried down the hallway, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

Pushing open Timmy's door, she found him fast asleep. Relieved, she turned to leave, but something caught her eye. In the corner of the room, shrouded in darkness, stood a tall figure. Its eyes glowed with a faint, eerie light.

Jessica froze, terror gripping her heart. The figure stepped forward, and she could make out its gaunt, skeletal face. The Night Man.

"No," she whispered, barely able to breathe. The figure vanished as she flicked on the light. She grabbed Timmy and ran to her room, locking the door behind them. The rest of the night was spent in fitful vigilance, her mind racing with fear and confusion.

The next morning, she decided to visit the local library, hoping to find more information about the Night Man. The librarian, an elderly woman named Mrs. Whitaker, seemed hesitant when Jessica asked about the legend.

"It's just an old wives' tale," Mrs. Whitaker said, her voice wavering.

"Please, I need to know more. I think I saw him last night."

Mrs. Whitaker's eyes widened with genuine fear. She led Jessica to a secluded corner of the library and pulled out a dusty tome from the highest shelf.

"The Night Man is no mere legend," she whispered. "He is a vengeful spirit, cursed to roam the night. They say he was once a man who committed unspeakable acts. He was lynched by the townsfolk, and now he seeks revenge on anyone who dares to call his name."

Jessica's blood ran cold. "But why would he come for my son?"

Mrs. Whitaker shook her head. "It doesn't matter who says his name. Once called, he comes for those closest to them."

Jessica spent the day researching ways to protect her home. She bought charms and placed them around the house, hung garlic on the doors and windows, and even sprinkled salt across the thresholds. That night, she kept every light in the house on and held Timmy close.


July 4th, 1945

Little Tommy Parker went missing last night. His parents are beside themselves with grief. The Night Man was seen near their home. The town is in a state of panic.


Jessica shuddered as she read the entry, feeling a growing sense of dread. That night, the air grew colder, the lights flickered, and the house seemed to creak and groan with unseen forces. Jessica kept Timmy close, clutching him protectively. At midnight, she heard a faint whisper, like the sound of wind rustling through leaves.

She walked to the window and peered outside. In the moonlight, she saw a figure standing at the edge of the woods. It was the Night Man, his eyes glowing with a sinister light. Jessica's heart pounded in her chest as she watched him slowly raise a hand, pointing directly at her.

She backed away from the window, her mind racing. She grabbed the journal and flipped through the pages, searching for any clues on how to stop him.


July 5th, 1945

We tried to confront the Night Man, but he was too powerful. The elders say he can only be stopped by someone brave enough to face him directly and break the curse. But who would be willing to sacrifice themselves?


Jessica's hands trembled as she closed the journal. She knew what she had to do. That night, she waited until Timmy was asleep, then gathered her courage and walked out into the woods, carrying the journal as her only guide.

The woods were dark and foreboding, the trees twisted and gnarled. The air was filled with a sense of impending doom. Jessica followed the path described in the journal, her heart pounding with every step.

Finally, she reached a clearing where a large, gnarled tree stood, its bark blackened and charred. This was the place where the Night Man had been lynched. Jessica began the ritual described in the journal, chanting the ancient words and lighting the candles around the tree.

The wind howled, and the ground trembled. The Night Man appeared, his eyes burning with rage.

"Why do you torment us?" Jessica demanded, her voice trembling.

"You called me," the Night Man hissed. "You must pay the price."

"Take me instead!" Jessica pleaded. "Let my son go!"

The Night Man paused, his eyes narrowing. "A life for a life," he agreed. "But know this, your soul will be bound to the curse. You will become the new Night Man."

Jessica hesitated, fear gripping her heart. But the thought of Timmy's innocent face gave her strength. "I accept."

A blinding light enveloped her, and she felt her soul being torn from her body. The Night Man's laughter echoed in her ears as she was consumed by darkness.


Timmy awoke in his bed, confused but unharmed. He called out for his mother, but there was no answer. He ran to Mrs. Whitaker's house, tears streaming down his face.

"Where's my mommy?" he cried.

Mrs. Whitaker hugged him tightly. "She saved you, dear. She saved us all."

Years passed, and the legend of the Night Man faded into obscurity. But on dark, moonless nights, the townsfolk of Greendale swore they could hear the faint, sorrowful cries of a woman echoing through the woods. They knew better than to speak her name for fear of calling forth the new Night Man.

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