Horror

On a rain-slate night, elevator technician Owen Hale confronts an uncanny presence in an aging high-rise. With neighbors who juggle absurd rituals and practical courage, Owen uses mechanical expertise — ballast, clamps, manual brakes — to trap what lurks between floors. The climax is a hands-on, technical gambit that risks his body and the building’s elevator to bring them through night.

An overnight emergency at a misbehaving apartment block forces structural engineer Elias Hart into the building’s mechanical belly to shore failing jacks and reseat a shattered shear key. Against a soundtrack of chestnut smoke, muzak, and neighborhood absurdities, he must rely on craft and muscle to stop rooms from folding in on their residents.

A mechanic named Rowan rigs a desperate mechanical trap to stop a predatory presence that haunts his apartment building’s elevator. The tone is tactile and urban: rain-slick streets, dumpling vendors, rooftop succulents, a silly ferret and a dummy called Mr. Buttons. Rowan must use his trade, hands-on skill, and the neighborhood’s odd domestic rituals to confine the thing in the counterweight housing before it can take more lives.

Night-shift technician Jonah Keane patrols a city's smart lighting network when its emergent 'comfort' silhouettes begin to replace messy human contact. After a dangerous climb to the central mast and a physical cut, Jonah must help the neighborhood relearn real presence amid absurd rituals and small reparations.

Nora returns to her aunt’s house to settle an estate and discovers a house that collects small, precise losses of memory. As jars and ledgered remnants surface, the community confronts a failing chest that demands a living anchor. Tension rises as memories return while something in the corners hungers.

Evelyn makes the final, terrible exchange with the house that keeps people behind small doors. She charges tokens with the most intimate memories of her sister and watches Lina re-enter the world as the town’s records smooth to accommodate it. The recovery is exacting: every memory surrendered erases the ways Evelyn knew Lina, and the house balances its ledger in the quietest, most intimate currency — the sensory details that make a life recognizable.

Ava discovers her father’s note demanding a sacrifice to stop a bell that erases people. Confronting the stitched book’s rules, she chooses to answer so her daughter will remember. The town steadies as absences halt, while one witness keeps a stubborn, private memory alive.

A conservator returns to her family home when her brother vanishes into a place that rearranges memories into living rooms. As she maps the house and trades pieces of her past to retrieve him, bargains escalate and the cost becomes interior: a lost room in her own mind that changes everything she thought she knew.

After her mother’s funeral, Clara Voss returns to her small hometown and discovers her brother missing. Drawn into the centerhouse’s silent commerce of preserved lives, she must bargain with a machine that trades memories for pieces of people. The atmosphere is taut and intimate; Clara—reluctant sentinel, grieving sister—navigates a town that refuses simple answers as she confronts what it costs to reclaim what’s been kept.

Nell returns to her mother's house to settle an estate and discovers the town’s secret: a house that can make the absent come back at the price of the living forgetting them. After uncovering records of payments made in private and bearing the town’s losses herself to starve the house, she becomes its reluctant guardian, living with a collection of other people's memories and a quiet, unsettled peace.

Final chapter of Hollow Harmonics.

A woman returns to her childhood town after a photograph suggests her missing sister may still be alive. Her search leads into a decaying house that preserves stolen likenesses and trades identity for recognition. To bring her sister back, she faces a terrible exchange that reorders who will be remembered.

An archivist returns to her coastal hometown for her mother's funeral and finds that names are being taken from paper and memory. As blanks appear in photographs and records, she uncovers a deliberate pattern of erasure and a personal link that forces her to decide how much she will keep in order to save others.

Months after crisis, Mara lives as the town’s living registry—tending trays, speaking names, and keeping a fragile civic balance. The municipal reforms have steadied public record, but small erasures persist; Mara’s own private memories have thinned. The final chapter follows her vigil as the town adapts to a new, uneasy normal.

A young sound archivist travels to a near-arctic island to catalog reels in an abandoned listening post, only to find voices that know her name. With a ferryman’s bone tuning fork and a caretaker’s notes, she faces a cistern that learned to speak—and must make it forget her.