The Hollow Ones

Prologue: The First Funeral

Blackwater was a town that buried its secrets deeper than its dead. When old Jeremiah Whitlock passed away in the winter of 1983, the whole town attended his funeral. But as the casket was lowered, someone noticed a problem.

"That ain't Jeremiah," whispered Eli Carter, the gravedigger. The corpse in the casket was too young, its face waxy and smooth. Most disturbing of all—it was smiling.

            "The reverend insisted it was a trick of the light. But when they reopened the casket at dawn, Jeremiah's true corpse was inside—rotted for weeks, not days. And carved into his chest were words in a language no one recognized. The town doctor who examined it quit that same night, muttering about 'wrong angles' and 'bones that moved when nobody looked.'"
        

Chapter 1: The Replacements Begin

That spring, people started noticing small changes. Mayor Hargrove's wife began setting the table for five instead of four, insisting they'd always had another son. The schoolteacher, Miss Darrow, corrected students for mispronouncing names—names no one in town had ever heard before.

Then the disappearances started. Not dramatic vanishings, but quiet absences explained away with perfect logic: "Oh, Martha moved to the city last week," or "Jake's working nights now." Except Martha's house showed no signs of packing, and Jake's coworkers swore he hadn't been to work in months.

            "Sheriff Lowry discovered the truth when checking the cemetery records. There were eleven extra plots occupied—graves for people who supposedly still walked among them. When he dug up one of the 'empty' graves, he found a body wearing Jake Turner's face... but the teeth were all wrong, filed to sharp points. And it wasn't dead. Its chest rose and fell slowly, as if waiting."
        

Chapter 2: The Church in the Woods

The town's oldest resident, Agnes Poole, revealed the dark history. In 1893, a group of settlers had taken refuge in Blackwater's church during a blizzard. When the storm cleared, the townsfolk found them all inside—alive but changed. They claimed to be the original settlers, though records proved otherwise.

"They called themselves the Hollow Ones," Agnes whispered. "Not quite mimics, not quite ghosts. Things that wear the shape of what they replace, but get the details... wrong."

            "Agnes showed the sheriff her proof: a family Bible with three generations of names crossed out in red ink. 'They take slowly,' she said. 'First your memories, then your history, then your face. By the time you notice, you're already one of them.' That night, Agnes disappeared. The next morning, a version of her sat rocking on her porch—but this Agnes had all her teeth, and her knitting needles moved without touching the yarn."
        

Chapter 3: The Hunt

Sheriff Lowry and a group of "still-real" townsfolk decided to burn the abandoned church where it all began. As they approached with torches, the doors swung open—revealing the entire missing population of Blackwater standing in perfect rows, their faces tilted at identical unnatural angles.

"We wondered when you'd join us," said the thing wearing Martha's face. "Don't worry. You'll forget the pain soon."

            "The sheriff's last journal entry was found later, smeared with something black and viscous: 'They don't just replace people—they replace TIME. The longer you're near them, the more your past rewrites itself. I dug up my own grave today. There I was, smiling up at me, telling me I died in '79. My wife doesn't remember our wedding. My dog growls at me now. God help me, I think I'm starting to forget too.'"
        

Epilogue: Blackwater Today

The state officially dissolved Blackwater in 1987 due to "population decline." Travelers who stop at the old general store report exceptionally friendly locals who know their names before introductions. The food tastes slightly off. The church bell rings at midnight with no one inside.

And if you stay overnight, you might notice something strange in the mirror the next morning—your reflection blinking a second too late, or smiling when you didn't.

            "Census records show Blackwater's population has grown by 11% since 1983. No births were recorded. The state inspector who noticed this discrepancy was later found dead in his home—his face frozen in a smile too wide for human jaws."
        