Episode 1 · Mature · 18+ private alpha
Chapter One
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About this story
Welcome to Blackridge.
A perfectly normal town—provided you don't ask too many questions.
After losing her father and spending years bouncing from place to place, fifteen-year-old Faye Gallow is sent to live with her eccentric Grammie in the small town where her parents grew up.
For the first time in years, Faye has a real home, a new school, and maybe even a chance at making friends.
Then a late-night dare takes her to Cemetery Hill.
Thirty years ago, a teenage girl disappeared there without a trace. Now Faye is seeing her ghost—and she seems determined to lead Faye toward the truth.
With the help of her new friends, Faye begins digging into Blackridge's past, uncovering missing records, old secrets, and one particularly disturbing connection:
The missing girl was her mother's best friend.
Her mother knows what happened that night.
Someone in Blackridge wants it to stay buried.
And whatever started thirty years ago isn't over.
It's starting again.
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Welcome to Blackridge.
Home of Cemetery Hill High. A perfectly normal town, provided you don’t ask any questions.
Blackridge Population 8,613 Living population…much less…
“Mom, are you sure you can’t stay?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the fields we were passing, secretly hoping I’d see more cows.
She sighed, zero attempt at hiding her disdain. “Faye, we’ve discussed this.”
“No,” I muttered under my breath at the window. “You simply said, life is complicated right now, I’m taking you to live with your grandmother…whom I haven’t seen since I was five.”
My mom tightened her grip on the steering wheel and clenched her jaw together. “It is what it is. I am doing my best.”
I swallowed down my disappointment. It truly wasn’t my intention to make her feel any worse. I knew she was trying, and I knew that things just weren’t going our way…they never seemed to go our way. If I believed in the supernatural, I would say that our family is cursed.
“I’m sure you will like it here,” she said trying to break the tension in the car. “Alice is really nice; she will look out for you.”
“Alice?” I repeated.
“Grammie, sorry. I’m just nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve been back here, it brings back memories.”
“You know, I don’t think I knew her name was Alice. I’ve only ever heard anyone call her Grammie.”
My mom smiled, something I don’t think I’ve seen her do in years. “She’s been Grammie since I was in school, I don’t really know why, I guess she has just always had that safe, home, warm, grandma energy.”
“That is something I remember,” I agreed. I remembered the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, her huge purple house, and that everything always smelled like flowers.
We turned onto south main, and passed the Blackridge Market, “You know, this is where I met your dad.”
“Really?” I looked at the old concrete building, with all the sale ads taped crookedly onto the windows that lined the front of the store.
“Yup. I mean I kind of knew him from school, but freshman year of high school we both worked there. I was a cashier, and he stocked the shelves.”
Before turning onto Maple Street, we waited for a group of teenagers to cross the street, they looked to be about my age, a girl with burgundy hair was very curious about our old pick-up truck.
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