Beneath a star-dusted sky, Penelope pulled back the threadbare curtain

A shiver snaked down her spine. Sleepy Creek was a town built on bootstraps and apple pie, not paranormal shenanigans. Yet, there it was, a swirling vortex of inky darkness pulsating from the heart of her skull-emblazoned duvet.

Curiosity warred with caution. Hesitantly, Penelope reached out, her fingers sinking into the abyss. A jolt of icy energy lanced through her, prickling her skin and setting her teeth on edge. Then, just as suddenly, the vortex vanished, leaving behind the familiar grinning skulls, now somehow…smirking.

Sleep that night was fitful, haunted by dreams of skull-headed tumbleweeds and whispered promises of untold riches. In the morning, Penelope awoke with a pounding heart and a newfound determination. She wouldn’t let some rogue shadow dictate her dreams. Tonight, she’d face the grinning fiends head-on, armed with a flashlight, a thermos of chamomile tea, and a healthy dose of Sleepy Creek skepticism. After all, in a town where everyone knew everyone, even the shadows couldn’t hide forever.