Ravenswood
- Cherokee Publishing Club
- May 16, 2024
- 2 min read
short story by CHS student, Peyton Black
The small town of Ravenswood was never the same after the night the children disappeared.
It was a typical summer evening, with the sun setting over the horizon and the crickets chirping in the fields. The children had been playing in the woods, exploring the old, abandoned mine that had been off-limits to them. But as the night drew in, the children failed to return home. Their parents, frantic with worry, formed a search party and combed the woods, but there was no sign of the children. It was as if they had vanished into thin air. The authorities were called, and a full-scale investigation was launched, but nothing was found. No trace, no clues, no signs of struggle or foul play. Just silence.
As the days passed, the town became gripped with fear. People began to whisper about the mine, how it was cursed, how it was a portal to another dimension. Some claimed to have seen the ghosts of the children, their eyes black as coal, their skin gray as the stone that surrounded them. But one night, a group of teenagers decided to explore the mine for themselves, to see if they could uncover any secrets. They entered the mine, laughing and joking, but as they made their way deeper into the tunnels, the laughter began to fade. They stumbled upon an old, rickety elevator, and curiosity got the best of them. They stepped inside, and the elevator lurched to life, taking them further down into the depths of the mine. As they descended, the air grew colder, the darkness more oppressive. They could feel the weight of the mine bearing down on them, the silence deafening. And then, suddenly, the elevator came to a stop. The doors creaked open, revealing a vast cavern, lit by flickering torches. And there, in the center of the cavern, stood the children, their eyes black as coal, their skin gray as the stone. The teenagers froze in terror as the children began to speak, their voices low and raspy, like the sound of rocks scraping against rocks.
"We've been waiting for you," they said, their eyes fixed on the teenagers.
And as the teenagers watched in horror, the children began to move closer, their eyes growing darker, their skin grayer. The teenagers tried to run, but their feet felt heavy, as if rooted to the spot. The children surrounded them, their eyes burning with an otherworldly intensity. And then, everything went black. The next morning, the teenagers were found, huddled together in the mine, their eyes wide with fear. They never spoke of what they saw that night, but the town of Ravenswood knew that the mine was cursed, that the children were still down there, waiting for their next victim.
From that day on, the mine was sealed off, and the town was left to wonder about the fate of the missing children. Some say that on certain nights, when the moon is full and the wind is blowing through the trees, you can still hear the children's laughter, echoing through the abandoned mine, a chilling reminder of the horrors that lie beneath.

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