Darkness

Previously

…“I don’t know,” Dean admitted, his gaze fixed on the dark, swirling water below. “But I think… I think we need to find out. For them. And for us.” A single, perfectly preserved black rose lay on the riverbank, its velvety petals drinking in the moonlight. It was a silent, terrifying calling card, a stark reminder that the darkness was not passive. It was watching, waiting, and its tendrils were reaching out, even into the quiet corners of their lives. The whispers of fear had become a roar, and Dean and Alyson knew, with a chilling certainty, that they could no longer afford to be silent. The hunt had begun, and they were no longer just witnesses; they were becoming part of the mystery.