My neighbor's phone rang continuously in her pocket as she slept on her camping chair with one of my books resting on her face. Libby's a retiree in her late sixties. A sweet woman notoriously known as the Cookie Lady. She would bake cookies every week for all the neighbors on our floor, and the rest of the cookies were brought here at the flea market to be sold. The left overs at the end of the day were usually given to the kids playing on our street. She'd also buy food and would pass it to the homeless people on the way.

We've been here all day, but we barely had any luck with sales. I sell books that I've self-published in the past. They were a couple of romance novellas that I wrote back in high school. Being an indie author was quite challenging, but low sales never hurt my passion to write. I write for a reason. I simply want my readers to be happy. To fall in love with my characters, and to explore the worlds I have created. It didn't matter whether it was one reader, or a few readers. What matters the most was I had a story to tell.

There weren't a lot of vendors at the flea market today due to the triple digit temperature. I've completely forgotten how hot it was going to be this first week of the month. You'd think once September rolled around, it would be sweater weather time.

Saturdays were usually crammed with vendors and customers, plus there were also mini concerts held by local artists. Unfortunately, not today. I checked the time. It was disappointing that it was nearly three in the afternoon. I guess it was time to pack up. A part of me still wanted to stay. I got up and walked over to Libby's table. "Hey, Libs. Wake up. It's time to go." I slowly removed the book away from her face. I gave her shoulder another shake.

She opened her left eye and pretended to go back to sleep. Her alarm went off again. "Alright, alright, I'm up, I'm up."

I gave a light chuckle as I shoved all the books inside a large white canvass bag. "Seriously, Libs. How do you sleep through your alarms?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess when you're retired, you don't really care about anything else besides sleep. Sleep is precious."

We both laughed and I started helping her put away her stuff. I haven't written anything new in the past few years. You could say I was hit with the writer's block and I have never recovered ever since. I kept asking myself if that spark would ever return. Only time could tell.

Once I reached my apartment, I dropped all my stuff in the living room and went straight to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. I grabbed the remote control from the couch and I started browsing. True Crime documentaries were my thing so I clicked one of the covers. Vanished Without a Trace. It was a cold case file of a missing little boy and his mother twenty years ago. I played the documentary while I heated up some left-over butter chicken in the microwave. I suddenly heard my paternal grandmother's hometown was mentioned.

I immediately called my mother who was currently on vacation in the Philippines. "Mom, there's a new true crime documentary that was shot in grandma's hometown. You should watch it. It's pretty interesting."

"I hope you won't get any ideas going there," she sternly warned me. It was as if she had read my mind. "That place is dangerous."

"Oh, come on," I laughed. "Crimes can happen anywhere, Mom. It doesn't matter where you are in the world. Plus, I'm not a child anymore. I can make decisions for myself."

"I'm warning you, Wendy. You can't go there."

"But why?" I paused the TV. "What's wrong with visiting grandma?"

"Just do as we say, Sweetheart," her voice was a little out of breath. "Anyway, your father and I are boarding the cruise ship now. Take care and behave yourself." After that, the call ended.

"Whatever." I said to myself as I went through my messages and sent a quick text to my group of friends.

Me: Who wants to go on a trip with me?

My friend Ash responded right away. He was always ready with whatever idea I had in mind.

Ash: Cool. When do we leave?

Hazel: I'm down with that!! Where are we going?

Me: My grandma's hometown in West Wells.

Blinky: I don't think I can go. We're shorthanded at work. :'( Sorry.

Morris: Great. I have leave coming up in the next few weeks. LMK.

Me: Blinky, I hope you can come with us! =((((

I got excited with the idea of visiting my grandmother. I've never been there before. My parents never wanted to go there. They said a lot of people were killed in that town. Staring blankly at the word document that I started, I decided to search for West Wells murders. The hairs at the back of my head stood up. I've heard about this before but never really read about it since I was younger. Maybe going to my grandmother's hometown isn't so bad after all. I could pick up an inspiration for my next book.

*

Two weeks went by and we've finally arrived at my grandmother's hometown. "I can't believe it," I said to myself. "I'm finally here."

"So, you've never been here before? Not even once?" Hazel asked as she lifted her shades and propped it on top of her head. She scanned the area while she chewed her gum. Her hair was a mix of light pink and purple this time.

"A lot of people were murdered here," Blinky explained nervously, his voice was a little shaky. He took out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat off his forehead. "I think it happened around thirteen years ago?"

"Ten years ago," Morris corrected him. He ran a hand down his arm. "Why here, out of all places? This town is giving me the creeps."

"I just wanted to visit my grandmother. Besides, I haven't seen her since I was a little girl." I picked up my bag and started browsing online for a bus map.

Ash placed his arm over my shoulder. "Nah. It doesn't bother me. Come on, guys. Lighten up. We'll only be here for two weeks. After that you can all go back to your boring lives."

"Okay, whatever you say." Blinky muttered as he gathered his luggage.

*

West Wells, also known as Weeping Willow due to the town's abundance of Weeping Willow trees, is a huge tourist spot. The residents stopped using the town's real name and started calling the town Weeping Willow due to the tragedy that happened ten years ago. I've tried searching information online but the murders that happened ten years ago remained as a cold case. It was like that documentary I watched on TV about the missing boy and his mother from twenty years ago, which was the first headline of West Wells town. It shortly followed the death of a scientist named Ralph Borden who died in his home. I don't know how long I've been browsing online, but those were the only things I could gather.

Not a single information about the serial killer. Interesting.

Grandma's street was clean. The houses were all cute and dreamy. Each house had a Weeping Willow tree up front near the curb and her roof was filled with purple Wisteria flowers. You could hear birds pleasantly singing in the trees. I was about to ring the doorbell when a crow flew next to my feet, startling me. It flapped its wings nonstop. Ash chased it away.

"Be careful not to hurt a crow," warned Blinky. "They have good memory and might come after you."

I pushed the doorbell. It didn't take long before my grandmother opened the door. "I am so happy to see you again, my dear little Wendy. You have grown so much," she hugged me tightly. When she pulled back, she looked over my shoulder and smiled at my friends. "I see you brought some company. I hope you all don't mind, but I only have two rooms available."

"It's okay, Grandma. Hazel and I can share a room, while Blinky, Morris, and Ash can share the other room."

"I'll sleep on the sofa, if that's okay?" Ash asked. "I'm used to it back home."

"You kids have fun while you're here. Make yourselves at home. If you need anything, just let me know," Grandma started walking towards the stairs, but slowly turned around. "But I do hope you guys know... there is a curfew in this town."

"But we're not kids anymore," Hazel smiled. "We'll be just fine."

"It's a curfew set up for everyone," she pulled her dark brown cardigan together. I noticed her face was paler and her eyes were a little red. "And I hope you all respect the rules while you're here in this town."

"What happened to the murders that happened here before?" Morris asked, cutting the silence in the living room. "Did they ever find the killer?"

"No, and they probably never will," Grandma said. Her eyes drifted towards me. "People are not allowed to roam the streets after nine in the evening."

"Because the murderer comes out during that time?" Hazel asked. "That's way too early. How are we going to enjoy our time here when we can't even go out at night?"

Grandma looked like her patience was about to snap any second now. "If you came here to go bar hopping or whatever you children call it nowadays, then this isn't clearly the dream vacation spot for you."

"What does the killer look like anyway?" I asked, stirring my grandma's attention away from Hazel.

She shook her head. "No one knows. No one has ever seen the killer's face. There were... sightings that night, though. According to the autopsies, each person's heart was carved out of their chests."

Blinky groaned. "Now I really wanna go home."

"Aww, Blinky, it's okay," I patted his shoulder. "I'm sure the murderer is not around anymore. It happened a long time ago. Plus, I read that there wasn't a single murder case after that."

"How do you know that?" Blinky's eyes widened. "The killer is still alive somewhere, Wendy. I mean, what if one of us gets murdered while we're here?"

"Get a grip, Blinky," Morris scolded him, adjusting his eyeglasses. "No one is getting murdered, alright? It happened ten years ago. Maybe the murderer died of heart attack or something, who knows?"

"Your friend is right," Grandma agreed. She looked calm again. "As long as you stick to the rules of the town, no one will get in trouble."

"Well? Let's just enjoy our time here, shall we?" I said, clapping my hands with a big smile, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

As soon as grandma was out of earshot, Ash sat down next to me on the sofa. He leaned forward with his arms propped up on top of his knees. "Guys, hear me out. What if all these murders were set up? Like, you know, fake news?"

"Fake news?" Hazel gave out a sarcastic laugh. "Are you kidding me? What do you mean by that?"

"Like, what if the town is doing this to stir up publicity? Attract more tourists to their town?"

"You're joking, right?" Blinky frowned. "Setting up fake murders is not a thing."

Ash shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a theory. You don't have to get all worked up with what I said."

"It was all over the news, Ash," I turned to look at him. "I saw the videos. The people that were interviewed didn't look like actors to me. They were real people who lost their family members. How could they run the whole thing as a publicity stunt?"

Ash ran a hand down his face. "Simple. People are fascinated with the macabre. Just like you. Why else would you drag us down here in the first place?"

I frowned and got up. "I came here to visit my grandmother. Don't get it twisted."

We all gathered our stuff and went up the stairs in silence. My grandmother was busy prepping the bathroom with new bath towels and soap. Her home smelled like lavender mixed in with some herbs. I saw a sage bunch on a small plate by the mirror. She loved smudging our house when she used to visit us. Some people say it's to keep the bad energy away. But grandma explained that she does this because it purifies the air due to its antimicrobial properties.

"All the bed sheets have been changed," she smiled as she stepped out of the other room. "The carpet has been vacuumed prior to your visit. I used to have a cat, but she crossed the rainbow bridge last year. No need to worry about pet fur if you're allergic."

"Sorry to hear about Artemis, Grandma," I gave her a huge hug. Artemis was a huge, fluffy white male ragdoll that kept her company for fifteen years. "He lived a comfortable life with you and I'm sure he's thankful for that." She nodded with tears in her eyes and went back to her room.

"It's a pretty house," Hazel opened her bag and started taking out her camera and tripod. She even brought her ring light with her. I laughed. She looked up. "What? I gotta keep up with my viewers or else they'll get bored if I stopped uploading."

"Girl, you don't need to upload every day," I rolled my eyes. "Take care of your mental health. Take a break. You might get a burnout if you continue to do that. Seriously."

"Don't mind me," she continued to take out all her gadgets from the bag. "I got it all under control, sis. We're in a different place, so this is an opportunity to film some content."

"Okay, as long as you abide the rules." I smiled, unzipping my bag. Knowing Hazel, she loved pushing her boundaries.

She stopped for a moment as if she suddenly remembered something. "Do you think your grandmother's serious about the curfew in this town?"

"Hazel, come on," I dropped the shirt in my hand. "Why would she lie about the curfew? Ten people were murdered ten years ago."

"Yes, I know that was ten years ago," she threw her arms up in the air. "Morris was right. There hasn't been a single murder case after that. What is everyone so afraid of? They might have already caught the killer for all we know and they're all just hush hush about it."

I shook my head. "I knew I shouldn't have brought you here."

"Okay, I'm sorry," she looked at me with her large eyelashes, blinking them with her puppy dog eyes. "I promise to be a good girl."

She grabbed her glittery hot pink suit case next. I noticed she had three more large bags with her, probably filled with clothes and shoes. Hazel Canales grew up in a middle-class family and only started vlogging two years ago. Her content was around fashion so it was easy for her to gain millions of followers. She's basically a celebrity online. Her parents were strict and refused for her to accept any deals that involved Hollywood. They were scared that she might be pulled in the world of glitz and glamour and might fall deep into the abyss. They're not wrong.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept tossing and turning in my bed. The murders of West Wells town bothered me. All those articles posted online about the gruesome murders were embedded on my mind. Was it a good idea to come here? Maybe Ash was right. I came here to find out more about the murders for the sole purpose of my next book.

But something is telling me, this is not just about my book.    

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I guess you can say this story is a cross between Scooby Doo + Fear Street. Hope you enjoy the rest of it. Thank you for reading. <3

XOXO Katie