"When the moon turns red, the Hollow remembers."
— Old Blackridge Proverb
Nestled between mountains that never seem to thaw lies Blackridge Hollow, a town forgotten by maps but never by the moon. Its streets are cobbled with old stone, its air always laced with mist, and its clocktower rings a minute late — as if even time hesitates here.
The locals say the Hollow was founded in 1642, by a band of wanderers fleeing a plague that turned men into beasts. They built the town on sacred ground, unaware that the soil beneath their homes had once been an altar. Beneath it, the Lunar Vein — an ancient energy born of moonlight and blood — still pulses in silence.
The First Night of Red
The first recorded "Red Moon" occurred in 1657. The townspeople awoke to the church bell tolling twelve times, though no one had rung it. At the same hour, every mirror in the Hollow cracked — and in the woods, they say the trees whispered a name.
That night, ten men disappeared. By morning, the forest smelled of iron and roses. Only one man returned — eyes silvered, skin pale as frost, unable to step into the sunlight. He was the first vampire born in Blackridge Hollow.
Fearing damnation, the survivors fled to the mountains, where the strongest among them drank from the veins of wolves and swore vengeance under the full moon. Thus, the first werewolves were born — men cursed to hunt their brothers until the end of time.
The Covenant of Silence
In 1723, the surviving families of both lineages signed a secret pact — the Covenant of Silence. The deal was simple:
Vampires would rule the night.
Werewolves would guard the borders.
Humans would forget.
To maintain peace, a single bloodline was chosen to keep the balance: The Lunar Lineage, mortals said to carry both light and shadow in their veins. It was their duty to mediate the feud — and, when the moon demanded it, to sacrifice one of their own.
For centuries, the Lunar blood ensured fragile harmony. But the last Lunar heir vanished nearly twenty years ago… until now.
Modern Blackridge
To outsiders, Blackridge Hollow looks like a sleepy, fog-drowned town. Tourists visit the Old Bell Tower, unaware that its bell is forged from vampire bones. Students stroll past the Rowan Woods, not knowing that wolves still patrol its edges. And no one remembers the old church that stands on the hill, its doors sealed with silver and salt.
But locals do not speak after midnight.
They do not look at the moon too long.
And they never, ever, follow the sound of a woman humming beyond the treeline.
Because sometimes, when the moon burns red, the town hums back.
Records from the Town Archives
(Recovered by Elias Thorn, 2002)
"We built a home beneath the moon, and the moon built one within us."
— Entry 41, The Hollow Founder's Journal
"The girl was born under a lunar eclipse. The wolves howled, the dead stirred. The priest called her a curse. I called her mine."
— Entry 93, Unknown
"The Hollow sleeps beneath a silver sky. But she dreams still."
— Final Entry
Closing Note
Legends say that every century, the moon chooses a Lover — one whose blood can end the cycle, or renew it.
And when that Lover arrives, both vampire and wolf will bow… or burn.
Until then, Blackridge Hollow waits.
And watches.