Evermore Falls was not the kind of town one stumbled into by accident.
It existed in a pocket of quiet, surrounded by dense forest, fog, and winding roads that seemed to rearrange themselves when no one was looking.
No map marked the road that led to Evermore Falls.
It didn't appear on GPS, travel guides, or roadside signs. Most people passed it without realizing they had. Others remembered driving past the same stretch of forest for hours, convinced they were going in circles, until the town appeared as if it had been waiting for them to notice.
Evermore Falls did not announce itself.
It simply allowed itself to be found.
Roy Wick arrived just before dusk.
Didn't think that I'd be taking my days off driving to the middle of nowhere, he thought to himself as his long brown hair streamed through the open roof, catching the wind like loose ribbons as the car sped on.
"Haa... I miss home, already." Roy hadn't planned on staying longer than a weekend.
The letter had arrived a month earlier, sealed in thick cream-colored paper, the ink faded but legible. It informed him that a distant relative—someone he barely remembered-had passed away and left behind a property requiring his presence for "formal acknowledgment and inheritance proceedings."
The address led to Evermore Falls.
"Hives all around, huh?" Roy didn't believe in omens. Still, something about the letter bothered him—the lack of a return address, the way his name was written too carefully, as if whoever sent it knew him better than they should.
He packed light. Signed the necessary forms online and took the road in his crimson Mazda MX-5. Told himself he'd be in and out before the week ended.
He crossed into Evermore Falls on a Thursday...
"Well, that's creepy..." The engine of his car went silent, and for a moment, so did everything else. The air felt... measured. As if the town itself was taking note of him.
He stepped out, stretched his legs, and scanned the road. Brick fences lined the rough path with unsettling symmetry—an old black gate towered over Roy. It looked ancient and permanently closed, yet well maintained.
Right at the top of the gate read: Welcome to Evermore Falls.
Roy honked a few times to alert the gate to be opened, but all that responded was silence. Cold, eerie silence.
He checked his phone in the leather jacket pocket. "No signal. Figures."
The letter in his jeans back pocket suddenly felt heavier than paper had any right to be. All he could do was stare at the gate, which mesmerized him for reasons he couldn't explain.
It felt like it was calling to him amidst the suffocating silence.
—
"Careful..." A soft, yet brusque voice broke the stillness.
Roy turned sharply. "Who's there!?"
Only to find a strange young man in a butler's attire—someone who seemed to have appeared by the gate, relaxed and unbothered, as if he'd always been there.
He looked ordinary, painfully so—dark hair like wool, a gentle expression, a complexion like burnished bronze, a clear contrast to Roy's fair skin.
A spotless white shirt rested beneath a fitted black waistcoat, every button aligned with unsettling precision. A thin black tie lay still at his throat, dark trousers fell cleanly to silent shoes, and an obsidian ring sat on his right index finger, nearly fading into his complexion.
Nothing about him was out of place—except the feeling that he had been standing there long before anyone noticed, without ever standing out. If that was even possible. Yet something about his presence felt... anchored, as though the gate made sense with him beside it.
"How did you get over there?" Roy asked.
And the young man answered, "I walked...?"
He says he walked, but there was no sound. I could've sworn I didn't hear a single step, the thought raced through Roy's mind like a bad joke.
"Walked, huh? Walked from where?"
"My good man, pardon me, but does it really matter? What matters is that I'm here now, and you can finally get in. Isn't there a better question to ask?"
I've got a weird feeling about this guy.
"Who are you?" Roy asked again.
The man in the butler suit looked oddly excited, almost like this was a moment he'd been waiting for all along.
"Names—wonderful! It's been a while since I've had to introduce myself..." he replied enthusiastically.
His words sounded so casual and friendly, like they'd met many times before. The familiarity was... strange.
"Let me guess, you're... the first, aren't you?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Ah, pardon me. I meant the first visitor. You are... Mr. Wick, right?"
How did he–?
"It's Roy..."
"Ah, I see. Mr. Roy Wick, correct?"
"It's Roy. Just Roy."
"Oh, yes, forgive me once more, Mr. Roy."
This guy...
"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
"I'm sorry? I haven't the slightest idea what you mean. Doing what?"
"Drop the 'Mister.' It's just Roy! I'm not that old, man—I just turned 21."
"Ah... I see. Will do. If I may ask, what age do I look like to you?" An air of mystique followed his words.
"That's an odd question."
"Humour me," the man insisted.
"Alright, weirdo. You look about the same age as me. Makes it even weirder when you talk like some old-timey grandpa."
The strange man chuckled. "Haha, I see...!"
With his arm stretched out, he declared, "You should know that the being you see before you is older than he may appear!"
What's he saying, like a mirror safety disclaimer? So weird...
"Sure... buddy."
Suddenly, with a casual wave of his hand, the black gate opened—no touch, no sound—as if it had always intended to obey him.
Then, with a graceful bow, he announced, "You may call me Tellar. Arion Tellar! I am the Watchman of Evermore Falls!"
What befell Roy was the sight of a town slightly stuck in the medieval era, with modern technology serving only as an accent to its distorted, fantasmal image.
Roy stiffened. "Watchman?"
Arion merely nodded, adjusting his tie.
"Yes," he said after a moment. "I oversee a great deal here. I have for a very long time."
"I see..."
"You're doing it again..." Arion sighed softly, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Doing what?"
"Blinking."
"Blinking?" His bright hazel eyes fluttered reflexively.
"Yes. Closing your eyes at the wrong moments."
He glanced toward the town beyond the gate.
"The more you do it here, the more you'll miss-without ever realizing you missed it."
Roy frowned. "Miss what?"
Arion didn't answer right away. He simply turned back to the gate, the smile still there—but thinner now.
"...Things," he said at last.
"Dude, I'm just here for a few days. By the weekend, I'll be gone, trust," Roy assured.
Arion smirked. "Sure... buddy."
That response irritated Roy more than he cared to admit.
"Don't be offended, my good man. Many say they'll stay for a while and end up staying indefinitely—by choice, of course."
"Are you trying to scare me or something?"
Arion withdrew an old pocket watch from his vest, its glass face faintly scratched. He checked it, then snapped it shut.
"Seven days," he said.
"Seven days for what?" Roy scoffed.
Arion slipped the watch away. "To leave."
Roy laughed. "I'm not staying that long."
Arion's smile returned—but this time, it didn't reach his eyes.
"Listen, buddy, I just wanna get into town and get to my–"
"–Great uncle's mansion, right?" Arion interjected.
"Yeah. Wait, how the fu–!"
-
The mansion stood at the edge of town, looming just beyond the treeline. Ivy crawled up its stone walls like it had been given permission. The gates were unlocked by the Watchman, Arion, who also helped drive Roy inside.
As the car rolled past the gates, Roy observed the bloodwood trees lining the drive like silent sentinels-their dark, resin-stained bark catching the light.
Clusters of deep red flowers hung among the leaves, rich and unsettling, as though the trees themselves had learned the color of old wounds.
The air felt heavier there, perfumed faintly with iron and bloom, and the estate slipped by with a beauty that was quiet, watchful, and faintly ominous.
What frightened Roy even more was the impressive murder of crows that flew past and perched among those same bloodwood trees-doing nothing but watching, judging him with dark, intelligent eyes as their possible new landlord drove in.
The mansion loomed before him, quiet and waiting.
Roy swallowed. "What is this place?"
Arion looked at the house, then back at him.
"Home," he said.
A pause.
"...Roy."