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Chapter Text

You knew on some level that the idea of shucking your big city responsibilities by quitting your corporate job and solving your problems by running away to become a farmer in a quaint little town was unrealistically romanticized, yet, as you boarded the bus out of Zuzu City with your small suitcase, you couldn’t help hoping that the change would be a good one. You had never farmed before; the closest you’d ever gotten to farming was when your coworker Alice gave you an aloe plant when you first started working at Joja Corporation. You managed to kill it within a month.

Undeterred by the memory of the brown, dried out husk of a plant that you’d unceremoniously tossed into a dumpster, you headed to Stardew Valley full of hope; your mind was filled with visions of a quaint little farmhouse, orderly vegetable patches, and friendly, adorable, unrealistically clean animals.

By the time the bus pulled up to the stop, you had daydreamed yourself into quite the adept agriculturist. Plants would flourish under your care. That aloe plant? Just a fluke. Best not to think about it.

“You must be ___!”

A warm, cheerful voice interrupted your thoughts. A tall, red-haired woman smiled at you before extending her hand. “I’m Robin. Mayor Lewis asked me to meet you here to show you to the farm.”

“Um…” You weren’t expecting a welcome committee, even one as small as this. You supposed it made sense. Your grandpa had been a resident for years; it was only natural for the townspeople to want to meet the new owner of his farm.

“Hello, Robin.” You smiled, reaching out and taking her hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Welcome. We’ve all been so excited to meet you. Ever since Mayor Lewis said you were coming to take over the farm… Oh, let me...” She reached out and grabbed one of your bags, easily hoisting it over her shoulder. “Shall we? The farm is pretty close. Mayor Lewis is already there getting things ready for you.”

You nodded enthusiastically, eager to start your new life. As Robin led you away from the bus stop, you looked around at the verdant, tranquil countryside, marveling at how much it resembled the illustrations from the various picture books you’d had as a child. It was so peaceful, so picture-perfect, that you almost had to bite back a sarcastic remark about how you expected woodland creatures and a princess to emerge from behind a bush and burst into song. You managed to stuff down any sarcastic remarks and any hints of cynicism before they became fully formed in your mind, however. That was the old, chronically depressed, corporate wage slave you. The new you, a nature loving, community building individual, would embrace such pastoral perfection. Your outlook was sunny, your thumbs were green, and the rest of you was ready to get a little dirty. You were going to be a farmer, damn it, and a damn fine one if you had any say in the matter.

“Ah, here we are!” Robin beamed at you. “Welcome home.”

Your mouth hung open as you looked around what was now your property. In the blink of an eye, your cottagecore fantasy of tending to tidy patches of fruits and vegetables and making fresh preserves and soups in a sunlit kitchen evaporated. The farm, or rather, what had once been a farm, seemed to have been entirely reclaimed by nature. Large stones and piles of rubble dotted the land, along with branches and other debris. The farther reaches of the property was covered in countless tall pine and oak trees. You couldn’t imagine how anyone, let alone you, could clear the land enough in order to grow anything.

Robin seemed to sense your shock. “I promise you, the land here is good. Once you get a patch cleared, you’ll be farming in no time.” When you still looked unconvinced, she cleared her throat. “Mayor Lewis is just getting things ready for you. Come and see your new home!”

Your expectations had already been lowered upon seeing the land, so when you saw the run-down shack that was to be your home for the foreseeable future , you weren’t particularly surprised. Before Robin could offer any encouragement, the front door opened and a grey-haired gentleman emerged.

“____! You made it. Good.” He clasped your hands good-naturedly. “I trust your journey from the city was satisfactory?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah, it was fine.” You tried to smile, but the best you could do was a lopsided almost-grimace.

The man ignored your obvious lack of enthusiasm. “Grand. I’m Lewis, the Mayor of Pelican Town. I’ve been getting things ready for your arrival.” He threw a glance over his shoulder at the ramshackle house behind you. “It’s not much to look at, but with a little work, it’ll feel like home soon enough.”

“I’m sure.”

Mayor Lewis was undeterred by your sullenness, and proceeded to launch into a speech about how much you were going to love Pelican Town and its residents, and how quickly you’d adjust to the sleepy, bucolic way of life. You could only nod and offer vague noises of agreement as he rambled on. Robin didn’t contribute much either, but nodded enthusiastically whenever the Mayor named any of Pelican Town’s positive aspects.

“Goodness me,” Mayor Lewis said, interrupting his own ramblings, “you must be exhausted. I’ll leave you to settle in. Perhaps tomorrow, you can come explore the town. Get to know its residents. I promise, you’ll love it.”

You finally managed to smile. “I’m sure I will.”

“And if you need anything,” Robin piped up, “don’t be afraid to ask. I’d be more than happy to assist in any DIY projects you might want to tackle.”

“Provided you can afford her prices,” Mayor Lewis grumbled, earning a good-natured elbow to the ribs from the cheerful redhead. “Anyway, you get some rest, ____. I’m sure it’s been an overwhelming day.” With a nod he turned on his heel and strode away, presumably towards Pelican Town.

“I’d best be going too.” Robin patted your shoulder comfortingly. “It’ll be okay. You’ll love it here.” She turned to leave, walking a few paces before stopping and turning back to you, regarding you thoughtfully. “Oh, and ____. You might want to stick close to the house when it gets dark. Or just stay inside. At least for tonight.”

You frowned at her. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere tonight, but…”

Robin laughed. “I mean, you don’t know the area yet. It gets pretty dark out here, and there are a lot of tripping hazards on your property at the moment. We don’t want to have to drag you to the clinic on your first night!”

You nodded slowly. “Riiight. Don’t worry, Robin, I have no intention of venturing any farther than my front door for the rest of today.” You meant it. The day’s events had left you feeling overwhelmed and eager to crawl into bed and ignore the world for several hours. Exploring the untamed wilderness that was your property was the last thing on your mind.

Robin seemed pleased with your answer. “Well, good. There will be plenty of time for exploring tomorrow. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. See you soon!” With a friendly wave, she turned and wandered down the path towards Pelican Town.

With a sigh, you turned towards the small building that your grandfather had loved and cherished for decades. It certainly was… rustic. The front stairs creaked threateningly as you climbed up onto the porch. For a split second, you had visions of your foot going straight through the wood. Your grandfather wouldn’t have deliberately left you in charge of a safety hazard, but the farm had been left unoccupied for a long time, and it showed.

Mayor Lewis had left the key in the lock for you, a gesture you appreciated, as you had completely forgotten to ask him for the key. Unsurprisingly, the door creaked when you opened it, as if announcing its displeasure at your arrival.

“Likewise,” you muttered, closing it behind you and surveying your new living situation.

To his credit, Mayor Lewis had done a decent job of getting the place ready for you. There weren’t any conspicuously large dust bunnies or cobwebs requiring your immediate attention, and the house smelled faintly of citrus. You were grateful for the Mayor’s attempt at making an all-but abandoned home presentable.

The farmhouse was, in a word, small. It was a single room, with a small bed in one corner, an old fireplace in another, and a tiny excuse for a kitchen. A door off to the side led to a cramped bathroom that was in desperate need of a good scrub. You tentatively turned on the tap at the sink, sighing in relief when the water ran clear. At least you’d be able to bathe.

You turned your attention back to the rest of the house, noting with dismay that there was no overhead lighting, only a single lamp near the door. Small windows, save the one that was completely boarded up, provided you with some sunlight, but it was a far cry from the idealized images that your mind had conjured up prior to your arrival. It wasn’t perfect, but you supposed it could be worse. After all, your tiny apartment in Zuzu City definitely wasn’t anything to write home about. It had been about as small as the farmhouse, and the lights were headache-inducingly bright. Not to mention the noisy neighbors who had lived on all sides of you. At least here you had privacy. It would be fine.

***

It didn't take you very long to unpack and put everything away. There wasn’t much furniture in the house, so most of your things remained in the suitcase. You knew you’d have to take initiative and buy some furniture, hell, maybe a decent bed while you’re at it, but that was a task for Future You. Now, you just wanted to relax.

You hadn’t brought much with you from the city in the way of entertainment; there hadn’t really been much time for leisure activities with your brutal work schedule. Some books that you’d already read numerous times had made it past your draconian packing policy, but you were entirely too tired to focus on reading. You needed to do something mindless.

Your eyes fell on the ancient television set next to the fireplace. Did it work? Worth a shot… Striding over, you switched it on, grimacing when you could only access two channels, both of them local. One appeared to be devoted to broadcasting the weather (sunny tomorrow, apparently), and the other was… it was something. A garishly dressed woman sat behind a large crystal ball, rubbing her temples theatrically. “The spirits are angry today!” she proclaimed, her voice loud and dramatically tremulous. “Luck will not be on your side! Take care!”

Snorting, you turned the television off. You were either going to have to invest in cable, or buy some DVDs. Not to mention getting Wi-Fi set up… Suddenly, the amount of tasks that you had to complete in order to live comfortably seemed insurmountable.

Your stomach gurgling interrupted your budding despair. It had been hours since you’d last eaten, you realized, and the granola bar you’d crammed into your mouth as you were getting on the bus definitely wasn’t a substantial meal. You rifled through your purse in search of the meager snacks you’d packed for the bus ride, your heart sinking when you pulled out a bruised apple and another squashed granola bar. Your stomach growled in protest as you tossed them onto the bed. You were hungry, but the idea of choking down that sorry excuse for a granola bar was almost enough to kill your appetite. Almost.

Sighing, you checked the time. Almost six. Would anything even be open in Pelican Town at that time? You had no idea what was even there in terms of shops. You’d tried to research the town a bit prior to moving, but information on local businesses was scarce; Pelican Town had a negligible online presence.

As you weighed your options, you became increasingly aware of how the sunlight streaming through the single window was starting to dim. Sunset was still about an hour away, but Robin’s parting words had unsettled you. She’d seemed so concerned about you staying out past dark. Why? She’d said she was worried about you stumbling over an errant log or something, but…

The grumbling of your stomach, more or less constant now, spurred you into action. You really didn’t want to be stuck with the two unappetizing snacks you’d brought with you, and you still had a good hour of daylight left. Pelican Town wasn’t far either, just down the road, really. You could make it there and back within an hour. And honestly, there was no reason to be worried. You’d walked around at night countless times in the past, in the sketchier areas of Zuzu City at that. You couldn’t imagine that Pelican Town and its outskirts had such a high crime rate that there would be any real reason to be wary of being outside too late. Robin was just being overly caring, a concerned neighbor. As you stepped out of the farmhouse and headed down the road towards Pelican Town, all your concerns vanished, only to be replaced by visions of a hot meal.

***

You wanted to be surprised that there was a JojaMart in Pelican Town, you really did. You wanted to believe that the quaint village had remained unmarred by the unchecked expansion of the corporate behemoth. If you were being honest, however, you’d kind of accepted that Joja Corporation was just about everywhere these days.

Despite your reluctance to support big business, nowhere else in town seemed to be open, and JojaMart, with its neon lights and sterile interior, promised quick, easy, and affordable food. You hurried inside, wasting no time in picking up a few staples and a frozen pizza. There were a few other shoppers scattered around the store, but you didn’t stop for small talk. There would be plenty of time for that later.

***

The sun was rapidly sinking below the horizon as you hurried along the dirt path back to the farm. You shivered slightly; the nights were still chilly this early in the spring, and you’d neglected to wear a jacket. As you approached the farm, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you remembered Robin’s earlier concern, which had been well-meaning, but completely unnecessary. You hadn’t encountered any potential hazards on the short road into Pelican Town, save for a rabbit springing across your path and nearly giving you a heart attack. Still, you appreciated her concern. Nobody had ever shown that much concern about your well-being back in the city.

You smiled when you caught sight of the farm. It wasn’t much to look at yet, but it was home. The many trees that surrounded the farmhouse cast long shadows as the sky darkened; you couldn’t help throwing a nervous glance behind you as you fumbled with your keys. You’d never considered yourself to be someone who was easily spooked, but you could have sworn that you’d seen a shadowy figure in the tall grass.

“Hello?”

You called out to the darkness, but received only silence in response. You frowned. It was… far too silent. As you’d walked along the path, the night was full of the chirping of crickets and the occasional hooting of owls. But now, as you stood on your front porch peering into the night, it was completely silent. No crickets, no owls, no frogs… nothing. Only the rustle of tall grass and tree branches.

That didn’t sit right with you. You were new to the country life, a city girl through and through, but even you knew that this was odd. You hadn’t spent any notable amount of time outside of the city since your parents dragged you on a camping trip when you were eleven, but you knew that the wilderness was never completely silent.

Then, you heard it. The unmistakable sound of someone, or something, creeping through the tall grass.

A person? No, not a person. Why would anyone be lurking on your property like this and not reveal themselves when you’d called out? An animal? Perhaps. You decided that you didn’t want to investigate further, and shoved your key into the lock, cursing when it proved to be stubborn and sticky.

You froze for a moment when the rustling of the grass grew louder. Whatever lurked in the darkness was getting closer.

You were a logical person. There was nothing to be scared of. The city was infinitely more dangerous. And yet, your stomach twisted into knots as you struggled with the lock. As the rustling, the sound of something in the grass, grew closer. Finally, after much jiggling, the lock cooperated and you forced the door open. You hurried inside and closed the door behind you with a slam, locking it and drawing the deadbolt closed more frantically than you’d intended.

Chest heaving, you stumbled over to the lamp, blindly groping for the switch. You found it, and the room was filled with a warm, slightly flickering, glow. Although you had initially cringed at the dusty, bleak interior, you now saw it as a cozy paradise, a safe-haven that provided warmth and light. Especially light. You felt that the light was particularly important.
Leaning back against the door, you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.

This is ridiculous, you told yourself. I’m being silly.

You certainly felt silly. Your first night in Stardew Valley, and you were already showing yourself to be the weak, delicate city girl you were sure the locals perceived you as. If any of them could see you now, spooked by what had probably been a deer…

You rubbed your eyes, chuckling at your own ridiculousness. A deer. That’s all it had been. It had to be. With a sigh, you picked up your grocery bags and headed to the kitchen, keen on quelling the growling of your stomach.

Later, as you sat cross-legged on the floor eating Joja Brand Pizza, your thoughts had shifted completely to your new property. You didn’t want to waste any time planting new crops, and were excited to go into town to see what was available. Meeting the locals was also on your to-do list; you’d heard over the years that small towns were usually friendly places. It would be nice to make friends, you thought.

You thought about your friends back in Zuzu City, who you rarely got to see with your busy corporate schedule, but who had insisted on throwing you a goodbye party at a bar none of you could responsibly afford. They’d reacted to your departure with varying levels of disbelief, ranging from dubious support to outright derision.

“A farm? You? But ___, you hate gardening. And nature. And the sun.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? Farming is hard. And you killed an aloe plant. Aloe, ___!”

“Do you know what condition your grandpa’s house is in? It could cost a fortune to fix up, and you’ll be living in a shack!”

“You’ll be back, ___. I’d give it six months before you miss the city lights and 24 hour conveniences. I’ll even let you crash on my couch.”

“Call me as soon as you’re settled! I’ll come visit. You’ll have wifi, right?”

As you ate your subpar pizza, checking your phone in the vain hope that you would have reception, you wondered whether any of your friends’ comments would prove to be prophetic. You were eager to give it a shot, but as you stared at the frustrating lack of bars on your phone, you wondered if you were truly cut out for this life. Just as you were about to call it a night and climb into the tiny excuse for a bed, you heard a loud creak coming from outside. Almost like something had climbed onto the rickety porch.

An animal, probably. A raccoon? Were there even raccoons around here? Surely there were…

Your thoughts were interrupted by another creak. Then another. If you didn’t know better, it sounded like someone was walking around on the porch.

But why would anyone be on your porch? And surely, if someone was on your porch, they’d knock. Not walk back and forth without declaring their presence.

You checked the time. Nearly ten. Far too late for social calls.

Another creak.

You looked up, and saw, or rather, thought you saw, something pass by the window.

But what?

You considered rushing to the window to look out, but something stopped you. What exactly, you couldn’t pinpoint. Some deep-seated, primal feeling. You had no idea what was out there, or indeed if there was anything out there at all, but everything in your body was screaming at you not to rush over to the window.

So instead, you crept over. You backed against the wall, and slowly made your way along it, flattening yourself as best you could as you sidestepped. As you passed the lamp, you switched it off. If there was anyone outside, you didn’t want them to be able to see you. Using your phone as a flashlight, you crouched down and crawled over to the window.

The creaking continued. Whatever it was, it was still on the porch.

You were sitting under the window now, heartbeat racing, your rational mind making you feel utterly ridiculous.

Why am I like this? This is stupid…

Still, you slowly rose up onto your knees, tentatively peeking out the window.

You squinted as you looked out. It was dark, pitch black. You made a mental note to get a new bulb for your porch light as soon as possible.

The creaking stopped, and you glanced around as best you could, unable to see all of the porch from your vantage point. You didn’t see anything in the darkness, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t anything there.

A split second later, and you grabbed the curtains and pulled them closed. If there was anything outside, it wouldn’t be able to see you. You closed your eyes, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your ears. In that moment, you would have given anything to be back in your shitty, tiny apartment in Zuzu City. Zuzu City, where rent was exorbitant and the jobs were soul-sucking. Zuzu City, where even the filthiest, sketchiest streets were illuminated. As you tried to steady your breathing, you listened. The creaking started again, and you knew, just as you knew that the sun rose in the east and set in the west, that whatever was on the porch, was not scuttling around like a raccoon or an opossum, but creeping with intention, taking measured footsteps. Bipedally.

Just as you were about to start praying to a god you’d never believed in, you listened again.

Silence. Nothing.

You exhaled, releasing the deep breath you’d been subconsciously holding. Whatever, or whoever, had been on your porch was gone. At least, you were pretty sure. If nothing else, it probably wasn’t on the porch anymore.

As you remained sitting on the floor beneath the window, you began to feel silly again. Yes, something had been on your porch, but it could have been anything. Probably an animal. You remembered the way raccoons would make a serious racket going through trash cans back in Zuzu City; surely Stardew Valley was home to a vast array of curious creatures.

Yes. Definitely an animal. You were out in the countryside, on a farm that had been mostly reclaimed by the wilderness… of course it was an animal. You sighed and smiled, shaking your head at how easily you had let your imagination get the better of you.

Gods… if the people in this town knew how silly I was being, I’d be laughed out of the valley!

Resolved to think no more of it, you got ready for bed.

I’m tired. That’s all. It’s been a long day… Once I’ve adjusted, I won’t be spooked by the things that go bump in the night.

That’s what you told yourself, anyway, when you heard the strange cries piercing the night.

Chapter Text

Just as the meteorologist had predicted, the next morning was bright and sunny. You awoke early to the sound of birdsong. You groaned as you got out of the decidedly uncomfortable bed and made your way to the shower, thanking whatever deities existed when the water ran hot. After the night you’d had, you desperately wanted to soothe your muscles in any way you could. By the time you had pulled on your clothes and chugged some coffee before heading into town, the events of the previous night were a distant memory; in the clear morning light, in the blossom-scented breeze, it was easy to forget about ominous shadows and eerie noises.

Pelican Town also seemed far more alive in the daylight. As you wandered through the streets, you passed a good number of people, all going about their daily business. You couldn’t help but notice the curious glances thrown your way, and wished that you had the confidence to stop, introduce yourself, and offer a handshake. Unfortunately, life in the city had taught you to keep your head down, mind your own business, and to avoid getting too friendly with strangers right off the bat. You wanted to rid yourself of this learned behavior, but, when a green-haired woman smiled kindly at you, you could only manage a tight-lipped smile in return before staring pointedly at the ground. Old habits die hard.

Honestly, had Mayor Lewis not cornered you as you were casually eyeing the bulletin board outside of the general store, you probably would have just gone straight to JojaMart, bought everything you needed, and hurried back home.

“Ah, ___! So you’ve decided to come into town today.” Lewis strode up to you, beaming. “Getting settled, I trust? I suppose you’ve come into town to stock up on supplies.”

You nodded. “Yep. Can’t start a farm without planting a few seeds, right?”

Lewis’ smile widened. “Of course! Everyone has to start somewhere, eh? Now, let me say that Pierre,” he gestured to the general store, “has the best seeds available. You will not find better seeds anywhere in the valley…” He continued on for a while, singing the praises of Pelican Town and its citizens while not-so-subtly taking all the credit for everyone’s accomplishments. You smiled politely, nodding at what you thought to be appropriate moments. It wasn’t until Lewis mentioned the Stardrop Saloon that you perked up and paid closer attention.

“There’s a bar here?” You didn’t mean to sound quite so enthusiastic, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t a heavy drinker or anything, but knowing that there was a place where you could go to unwind and possibly socialize was a relief. 

“Of course! The owner, Gus, is a masterful cook as well. You simply must stop by…”

Your conversation with Lewis turned into him taking you on a quick tour of the town. He showed you the clinic, the museum-library hybrid, the blacksmith… Honestly, you were a little surprised that Pelican Town had a blacksmith. It just seemed like something so… specialized. So… old-timey. You knew that a modern-day blacksmith was unlikely to be forging swords, but the image popped into your head nonetheless.

Lewis didn’t show you around the entirety of Pelican Town and its surrounding areas, but he did point you in the direction of Cindersap Forest and the beach. You made a mental note about the beach in particular; the idea of leisurely hunting for shells on a cloudy morning appealed. When the mayor finally let you get a word in edgeways, you wasted no time in asking him about how to go about getting internet at your place.

“The farm is in a bit of a dead zone… no cell service…” You smiled apologetically, hoping that Lewis wouldn’t misinterpret your desire to connect with the outside world as boredom with small town life.

“Ah, right, right. I suppose that sort of thing is a necessity these days…” Lewis nodded as his face grew thoughtful. “I’ll take care of it. It can be a bit of an ordeal, getting anyone to come out here, but I can make a couple phone calls…” He chuckled. “Being the mayor has some benefits, you know!”

“Thank you.” You gave him a grateful smile. “I hope it’s not too much trouble.”

“Nonsense. ___, you’re a citizen of Pelican Town now, and it’s important we make you feel welcome.” He checked his watch. “Oh my, I must be going. I’ll follow up with you about the internet, and don’t hesitate to ask for anything else you may need. We hope you’ll be part of our community for a long, long time.” With a nod, he walked off, headed in the general direction of Cindersap Forest.

You had promised yourself that you would be more positive and less cynical, but you couldn’t help internally rolling your eyes at the way Lewis had greeted the townsfolk and talked like he was just one of the people. You’d seen his mansion. You knew damn well he didn’t consider himself to be the Every Man. But still, Lewis was your ticket to getting settled, so you would have to get over your cynicism and play nice.

No sense in making enemies. Not in a town this small.

Stop it. You told yourself. You’re supposed to be positive here. You were going to befriend the citizens of Pelican Town, run a successful farm, and most importantly, get some damn wi-fi and bring your home into the 21st century. 

Speaking of farming…

You headed towards the General Store, Pierre’s. Lewis has told you that you could purchase seeds and other farming necessities there. He’d also begrudgingly mentioned that similar items were also available at JojaMart for lower prices. While the idea of saving money appealed, you got the sense that the townsfolk didn’t particularly enjoy JojaMart’s presence, so you figured that you could ingratiate yourself with them by shopping at a local business.

***

It was already past five by the time you made it back to the farm. Pierre had talked your ear off about how badly he was struggling since JojaMart opened, and his wife had joined in on the conversation. You, of course, had been sympathetic, nodding your head and agreeing with their thoughts on how big corporations were killing small towns everywhere. They seemed nice, but you had wasted no time in using a lull in the conversation to make your escape. There was farming to be done, after all.

The sight of your property, overgrown and full of unruly flora and debris, quickly killed your enthusiasm. There was no way you would be able to get anything planted without some serious effort. Not before sundown, anyway. Not with the tools you had at your disposal. You thought about the old, slightly rusty garden tools you’d found in one of the chests that sat in the corner of your house.

What did I sign up for?

You checked your watch, and decided that you would have just enough time to maybe clear some of the weeds enough to at least start making a decent area to plant the seeds you bought. Better than nothing. You steeled yourself for the work that lay ahead of you, and got to it.

***

By the time the sun began to set, you had made decent progress. You surveyed the results of your hard work.

Not bad, for a beginner.

You were filthy, and, despite only having worked for a couple hours, your muscles were starting to ache. The thought of bed, even your tiny, uncomfortable one, appealed. With a tired sigh, you trudged inside, more than ready to unwind.

***

“Greetings! It is I, the Queen of Sauce!”

You watched the energetic woman on the screen prepare a disappointingly kale-based stir fry. All your attempts to find something, anything else to watch had been fruitless, and so you resigned yourself to watching a cooking show about dishes you would never make.

Lewis had better come through with his promise of wi-fi, you grumbled to yourself. Until now, you had never really considered how much you relied on the internet. You were by no means a chronically online shut-in, but you definitely enjoyed curling up and binging your favorite shows after a hard day’s work. And chatting with your friends. You sighed, wondering what they were up to.

Pull yourself together! It’s only your second night away from the city.

You berated yourself. It was way too soon to start getting homesick. Besides, this was your home now.

You tried to think positive. You hadn’t made a big mistake, quitting your old job and moving to a strange place where you knew no one to make a living doing something you had no idea how to do. Nope. Not at all. It would be fine. Everything was fine. The future was bright. You were going to wake up tomorrow, grab your stuff, and plant some-

Creak.

You snapped back to reality. What was that?

Creak.

That noise again. The same you’d heard last night, right outside your front door. You’d forgotten about it. You listened, hating the way your hair stood on end. You had no idea what exactly was going on outside, but you knew with complete certainty that you did not want to investigate. You glanced around. The door was locked. Good. The curtains were drawn. Excellent. You may have been unable to see whatever was creeping around outside, but it was also unable to see you, which was of the utmost importance.

Creak.

Your blood ran cold. Whatever was outside was standing by the window. The curtains were closed, yes, but you could see its shadow, and whatever it was, it was big.

Your breath caught in your throat. Whoever, whatever, was outside couldn’t see you. Of course it couldn’t. The curtains were closed. However…

Your spine tingled as a grim thought occurred: it knew you were there. Could it get in? What if it tried? You glanced around your tiny house, searching for something you could use as a weapon if it came down to it. Your eyes fell on the small, disappointingly dull-looking axe that rested against the large chest in the corner of the room. Not great. Better than nothing.

As you made your way over to grab it, you happened to look up at the window. Whatever had been standing outside had seemingly moved on. Even so, you picked up the axe and held it at the ready just in case.

Never breathe a sigh of relief at this stage in the game , you told yourself. That’s when the jumpscares happen.

You waited, straining to detect any sign of your tormentor returning. Nothing.

Finally, you allowed yourself that relieved sigh.  Whatever had been trying to peer through your window, it had moved on.

A couple hours later, you were curled up in bed. The door was locked (you’d checked three times), and the windows were securely latched. For added security, though you felt a bit silly resorting to this, the old axe lay within easy reach. No bogeymen of any kind would be getting you that night. Secure in the knowledge that you were as safe as possible, you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, all while doing your best to ignore the gentle, persistent tapping against the window panes.

***

Mayor Lewis was true to his word, and a week later, your internet was up and running. You quickly decided, though, that it was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, you were able to contact your friends more easily and binge your favorite shows late into the night. On the other hand, it made going to bed at a decent hour and actually waking up to get everything done before sunset unbearably difficult. Farming required discipline, and you were not so sure you had it.

Despite your struggles, you managed to grow a half-way decent batch of parsnips and potatoes after a few weeks. Nothing mind blowing, but not bad for your first effort. You’d worked hard, and so far, your work was paying off.

You wiped the sweat from your brow as you finished harvesting the last of the potatoes. It was still early spring, but the sun’s rays felt intense as you rooted around in the dirt. As you put all of the harvested crops into a bag, ready to drop them off to be sold, something caught your eye. Tattered fabric, faded with age, sticking out of the earth a few yards away.

Frowning, you stood, grabbing your hoe and getting closer. You prodded at it, figuring it was just some discarded trash. As you pushed at it with your hoe, you managed to dislodge it, and saw what it was.

A doll. An old one.

You bent to pick it up, grimacing when you thought about how it was almost certainly full of bugs and other delightful creatures.

Who would give this to their child to play with? Creepy…

You stared at the doll, and its black, soulless button eyes stared back at you. You shuddered, thinking of all the B-horror movies involving haunted dolls that you’d watched in the past.

Nope. Not keeping this thing. I know better.

You tossed the doll back onto the ground, picked up your sacks of potatoes and turnips, and placed them in the shipping box next to the house. You checked the time, and saw that it was only 2 pm. Perhaps it would be a good idea to go into town, get to know the place a little more. Despite vowing that you wouldn’t become a hermit, you had scarcely spoken to anyone since you’d arrived. You’d been too tired and too busy, and the siren call of getting lost down internet rabbit holes and loafing in your living room had been impossible to resist. However, you knew that the only way to truly settle into your new life was to socialize and befriend the locals, so, with a tired sigh, you went inside to shower and change.

***

It was after 5 pm when you finally headed into town. You remembered that Lewis had mentioned a saloon, and, it being a Friday, you figured that it would be as good a place as any to meet people. Sure, you’d occasionally run into other villagers while going about your business, but you didn’t feel right trying to strike up a conversation with someone doing their grocery shopping.

As soon as you entered the Stardrop Saloon, you were struck by the sheer coziness and warmth of it all. Cheerful music emanated from an old jukebox in the corner, and several villagers stood chatting over large glasses of frothy ale.

“Ah! ___.” Lewis, of course, was the first to recognize your presence, and he cheerfully waved you over to where he sat with a kind-faced, middle-aged woman.

You returned his smile and wandered over to him, glancing around in search of other familiar faces. “Hi.”

“This is Marnie- she owns the ranch over by Cindersap.” Lewis gestured to the woman sat across from him, who smiled and took a sip of her drink.

“Hey, Marnie.” You gave her your most friendly smile, noting the alcohol-induced pinkness in her cheeks.

“Nice to meet you.”  She set her glass down. “So you’re the new farmer I’ve been hearing about. As Lewis said, I own the ranch over by Cindersap. If you ever decide to try your hand at raising animals, I’ll be more than happy to help you get started.”

You thanked Marnie and Lewis and excused yourself, not wanting to try to make small talk with them more than you had to. They were being friendly, but you felt like you were intruding on something, and you hated feeling like a third wheel. You went up to the bar, scanning the room for any other familiar faces. Seeing none, you sighed, resigned to having to either sit awkwardly in silence, or muster up enough confidence to introduce yourself to other people.

“Can I help you?”

You looked up. The woman behind the bar was looking at you with a friendly smile, waiting to take your order.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll have a…”  You glanced around again, realizing with horror that your mind had gone completely blank. “Um… what do you recommend?”

The woman grinned. “The Stardrop Saloon has a bit of everything, but most folks here go for straight up beer.” She leaned over the bar, her voice dropping into a mock conspiratory tone. “It’s okay, but a bit bland if you ask me.”

You grinned, immediately feeling at ease. “Well, I’ll just have a beer, then. I’m not feeling too adventurous.” You paused. “I like your hair.”

Her face brightened as she twirled a lock of electric blue between her fingers. “Thanks! Wish I could say it was natural, but…” She shrugged. “I’m Emily, by the way.”

“___. I just moved here a little while ago.”

Emily snapped her fingers, her face lighting up with a realization. “Ah, you just moved onto that farm, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded.

“Ever farmed before?”

“Nope. First time for everything.”

“A city-girl, huh?” Emily giggled. “I can’t see why you’d move here of all places, but who am I to question anyone’s choices? I’m joking!” she added hastily. “How are you liking it?” She grabbed a glass and turned to fill it with the beer you’d ordered.

“It’s okay. Hard work.”

“Yeah, I bet.” She set the glass in front of you. “That place was abandoned for ages. I’m sure it’s been a nightmare getting everything sorted.”

“Something like that.” You were about to say more, but Emily’s attention was grabbed by another customer, an older blonde woman at the edge of the bar.

Emily flashed you another smile. “Duty calls. Enjoy!” She walked away, leaving you to your solitude once again.

You sighed and sipped your beer. It wasn’t half bad. As you drank, you squinted at the food menu scrawled onto a chalkboard behind the bar. Your stomach growled, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Just as you were about to call Emily over and order a pizza, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned, only to see Robin offering you a friendly smile.

“___, good to see you.” Robin leaned against the bar, ostensibly studying the menu as well.

“Hey Robin,” you replied. “Happy Friday.”

She laughed. “___, when you run your own business and work throughout the week, Friday is just another day. Though I’m sure you know that all too well. How are you settling in?”

“Can’t complain. Well, aside from the fact that every muscle in my body hurts like hell every day, that is.” You sipped your beer. “But really, it’s fine. Hard work, but I’m getting the hang of it.”

“That’s wonderful.” She gave you a sidelong glance. “Explored much?”

“I haven’t had the time.” You shrugged. “This is my first night out. Normally I’m so exhausted by the end of the day, I’m inside and in my pajamas before the sun goes down.”

“That’s farming for you.” She paused and bit her lower lip, as if contemplating what to say next. When she continued, she sounded hesitant. “You’re comfortable there, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I want to upgrade my bed at some point, but other than that, all good.”

Something almost like relief washed over Robin’s face at your words. “That’s great to hear, ___. I know that it can be hard adjusting to a new place. Especially a place like this. You know, with you being from the city and all.”

“You got that right,” you agreed, taking a swig of your beer. “You know, my first couple of nights here were rough.”

“How so?”

“Ah, you know. Wildlife. Rustling trees.” You chuckled. The warm atmosphere of the saloon made your fear-filled nights seem silly. “I’m pretty sure an animal was walking around my porch.”

The small amount of beer you’d had might have put you at ease, but it hadn’t dulled your senses enough to miss just how forced Robin’s chuckle was. “You’ll get used to it. Sometimes those woodland creatures can get pretty brazen. Just leave them alone and you’ll be fine.”

“Sure thing.” You studied her face for a minute. “What kind of animals are we talking about here?”

“Ah, you know. The usual. Rabbits, raccoons, the occasional deer.” Robin shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Keep doing what you’re doing. You’ll be fine.” She gave you a pat on the shoulder before turning and wandering in the direction of Lewis and Marnie.

You looked after her for a moment, thinking about what she’d said. Or rather, what she hadn’t said. You didn’t know her very well, but Robin had seemed cagey. This was the second time she’d acted weird about the farm and insisted you be careful in some way or another. What did she know? What wasn’t she telling you?

“Can I get you another?”

Emily’s bright voice jolted you from your thoughts. You looked at your now-empty glass. “Yeah, why not? Also, how’s the pizza?”

Emily grinned. “Better than the beer. Gus is a fantastic cook. Want one?”

Your stomach growled again. “Absolutely.”

***

You ended up staying at the saloon until nearly 10 pm. Emily had been right; the pizza was great, and you managed to finish half of it before throwing in the towel and asking for a to-go box. The beer had grown on you, becoming increasingly palatable with each sip, and you’d ended up having three over the course of the night. You didn’t get drunk, but the resulting buzz had given you enough liquid courage to chat up many of the other bar patrons, all of whom had been friendly enough, save for a sullen-looking man who had bluntly told you to piss off after you’d introduced yourself. All in all, it had been a pretty good night.

After you’d said your goodbyes, you set off back home. The streets of Pelican Town were dark and quiet. Peaceful. Safe. You relished the feeling. Back in the city, you wouldn’t have dreamed of getting tipsy and walking home alone this late.

As you walked along the dirt road past the bus stop, away from the warm lights of Pelican Town’s street lamps and towards your farm, you felt the cozy blanket of small town security begin to slip away. As you approached your property line, you noticed how dark it was. How the trees and tall grass seemed to loom ominously ahead.

A chill ran down your spine, and you instinctively fumbled for your keys. The need to get inside the safety of your house gripped you; the closer you got to the farm, the more urgent the need grew. As soon as your house was in sight, you broke into a light jog. You hurried up the porch steps, key at the ready. Just as you were about to unlock the door, you froze. There, lying on the porch, was the old, tattered doll from earlier.

You didn’t have time to wonder how the hell it had gotten there. Just as it had on your first night on the farm, the wilderness suddenly went silent. You knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that something was watching you from the tall grass.

Woodland creatures, my ass.

Without further hesitation, you jammed the key into the lock, turned it, and rushed inside, slamming the door behind you. As you slid the deadbolt into place, you found yourself wondering whether the current lock situation was enough. Suddenly, all of the bolts and window latches seemed far too flimsy for your comfort.

Even as you nervously checked to make sure everything was secure, your rational mind tried to take over.

You’re being stupid. There’s nothing dangerous outside. This isn’t a movie.

You forced yourself away from the windows, finally remembering the box of leftover pizza you’d brought home. You put it in your embarrassingly empty fridge, making a mental note to pick up some essentials the next time you stopped by Pierre’s. Someday, you’d be able to eat your own produce, but that was a while off. As you readied yourself for bed, pushing away any thoughts about whatever lurked outside, you thought about what new crops you’d like to try your hand at next. 

Green beans? Corn? Pumpkins? Maybe fruit of some kind. I could make my own jam if I grew my own berries…

You eventually drifted off to sleep, your enthusiasm for the future overriding your anxieties.

Chapter Text

You awoke the next morning to the sound of torrential rain. You burrowed further under the blankets, not wanting to expose yourself to the damp chill of early spring that had permeated the house.

At least I don’t have to water anything today…

After nearly half an hour of delaying the inevitable, you hauled yourself out of bed, put on a bathrobe, and wandered over to the kitchen to make some much needed coffee. You listened to the rain hammering down against the roof and windows, wondering if you would be able to put off your daily chores in favor of loafing inside.

As you sipped your coffee, you decided to venture out onto the porch, figuring that if the rain had sufficiently flooded everything, then there would be no harm in taking a day off. The cold, damp air hit you as soon as you opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. You drew your robe around yourself as you looked around, noting that your property had turned into a veritable sea of mud. That settled it. You would be doing no work today. You nodded decisively, and, just as you were about to go back inside, a strange, eerie howl interrupted the calming sound of rainfall.

You’d only been on the farm for a few weeks, but you’d gotten used to the strange and wonderful noises of the local wildlife. However, that noise in particular was new. And creepy as hell. You knew that in all likelihood it was just some weird frog noise or something similar, but it was unnerving all the same. It made you think of a comment you saw on a creepy video you’d stumbled upon once about how certain animals can sound like a person screaming.

What sort of animal? A coyote? A fox? You couldn’t remember. In any case, you didn’t like the noise you had heard. You turned to hurry inside, tripping over the tattered, mostly rotten welcome mat that you had neglected to replace.

You cursed and kicked the moldy mat to the side, then frowned. One of the porch planks that had been obscured by the mat had a strange symbol carved into it. You studied it for a moment. It was simple, almost rune-like. It almost reminded you of one of those cacti from the old western cartoons you watched as a kid. Or a cross of some kind. It had very clearly been deliberately carved into the wood, definitely not a strangely symmetrical split in the plank.

Another howl pierced through the sound of the rain, sounding a little closer than the previous one. Without so much as a glance behind you, you hurried inside, shutting and bolting the door. You exhaled and clutched your mug of coffee to your chest.

This is stupid. I’m being stupid.

You took a few more calming breaths as you attempted to convince yourself that the noises you’d heard were nothing more than the sounds of some benign animal. After all, you’d never heard any reports of wild animal attacks in the area. And besides, there was no way your grandfather would have willed you his old farm without warning you about any hazards first. Right?

You sat down on your bed, sipping your coffee and letting it warm you.

God, I need to get some more furniture in here…

You grimaced as you looked around and noticed the thick layers of dust and cobwebs that still coated the rafters. You really hadn’t given the house a thorough enough clean when you’d moved in.

You sighed.

Well, since I can’t do anything outside, might as well get to cleaning…

***

Your motivation to clean lasted for about twenty minutes. You swept a bit, but as soon as you realized that you were woefully low on cleaning supplies, you threw in the towel. Now you were curled up in bed, your laptop open as you aimlessly browsed the internet. The poor weather seemed to be interfering with your wifi, so streaming movies was a bust. Instead, you entertained yourself by typing in a variety of inane queries.

What animal sounds like a woman screaming?

Can foxes howl?

Can frogs make spooky wailing noises?

On a whim, you typed in another, slightly more focused query.

Pelican Town Creepy Stories

To your surprise, there were a few hits. You scrolled through the results, noticing that most were lists like “Top 10 Towns to Visit for Spirit's Eve.” Nothing truly informative.

As you scrolled, your eye landed on something that looked halfway interesting. You clicked on it, pleased to not be directed to another ad-ridden list.

The link took you to a forum that looked like it was created in the early days of the internet and never updated since.

“I think I had a wife once, but I can't remember.”

You blinked at the screen, puzzled by the post. You clicked on it to read the rest and immediately grimaced at the giant text block that appeared.

“Hi everyone. This is weird, so bear with me. So, I’m a single guy in my 30s. I live in a small village in Stardew Valley. It’s a peaceful place, quiet. It suits me just fine. Anyway, lately, I’ve had some weird stuff happen to me. A few months back, I was at the bar with a few friends. Totally normal. Then this lady walks in with a few other women I know from town. Guys, let me tell you, she was gorgeous. I’m a bit of a loner, but I had a couple beers in me and couldn’t resist introducing myself. It’s not every day a new face shows up in town! Let me tell you, the second I walked over to her, the atmosphere changed. Everyone seemed kind of tense. If this were one of those old western movies, it would be like when an outlaw walks into a saloon and the piano music stops. I introduced myself anyway. She was polite, but it was obvious she wasn’t interested, so I backed off. I figured she was new in town. But she was talking to these regulars like she’d known them her whole life! I eventually asked one of my buddies if he knew who she was, and he told me she lived in town. Guys. I have lived in this village since I was a kid, and I had never seen this woman before. We don’t usually get newcomers, and it’s kind of a big deal when someone moves in. That’s weird enough, but there’s more. A few nights ago, I was going through some stuff in my attic, and I found a necklace with a seashell pendant. No one who isn’t from around here would know, but you are traditionally given that by someone who wants to marry you. I have never had a serious relationship. My parents weren’t locals, so they wouldn’t have gotten engaged with one of these. Why the hell do I have it? I’ve also noticed other things. I found a box of old cards. Most were illegible due to water damage, but one was a “congratulations on your wedding” card. I couldn’t make out the sender. It sounds crazy, but is it possible I’ve been married before and just… forgot?”

You rubbed your eyes after picking your way through the text wall, and looked at the comments. They were a mishmash of replies, a blend of helpful, derisive, and dismissive.

“If you forgot your wife, I can see why she left you.”

“Have you been screened for early onset dementia?”

“This is fake as hell, lol.”

"Not reading this textblock."

“This whole post is irrelevant. Who the hell would accept a marriage proposal when offered a crappy shell?”

“Do you have a carbon monoxide detector?”

The one helpful comment that seemed to take the post at all seriously was one suggesting that the OP look at the public records to see if there was any history of them being married. The OP didn’t reply to any of the comments, but you clicked on their username to see if they’d posted anything else. They’d posted twice more.

“They won’t let me access the public records. What the hell is wrong with this town?”

“I’m leaving. I know something is wrong. People aren’t telling me anything. I thought they were my friends and neighbors. Can’t go on like this. I signed a lease on an apartment in the city. Screw Pelican Town.”

The final post had a handful of comments, mostly people wishing the OP luck or declaring his story lame. One comment, posted by a now-deleted user, caught your eye.

“Whoa you’re from Pelican Town? My cousin lived there for a while a few years back. He told me creepy stuff happened there, especially in the woods.”

There were several nested replies to that comment, so you clicked to expand them.

“What kind of stuff? Share!”

[comment deleted]

[comment deleted]

[comment deleted]

You sighed, feeling sillier by the moment. There you were, getting spooked by outdoorsy noises and looking for clues by reading what seemed like an early attempt at one of those internet urban legends. You closed your laptop and flopped backwards onto the bed. There were so many other things you could be doing…

You grabbed your phone.

***

Three hours of mindless scrolling later, your growling stomach forced you to get up and shamble over to the kitchen. As you made a meager lunch of buttered toast and an apple, you thought about your grandfather. He was always so kind, full of stories and jokes. Your parents worked a lot when you were young, and you’d always looked forward to when Grandpa would visit.

“You’ll have to come see the farm someday, ___. You’ll love it. The whole valley comes alive in the spring.”

Of course, you never did visit him here. Grandpa moved in with your family when you were seven. Your dad had been trying to convince him to do so for as long as you could remember. You had a distinct memory of one such instance. You’d been sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal as your father paced back and forth, the phone to his ear.

“Dad, please. We’d love it if you moved in. The farm is too much for you. No, we can’t move out there with you.” A sigh. “You know why.”

You remembered your father’s end of the conversation so vividly because of the way his voice had grown shaky. They way he’d hung up and grown silent, his broad shoulders trembling. At the time, you had assumed that he was upset because he missed his dad. Grandpa would only visit during the holidays, and even then, only for a short time. But then, your family had never made the trip to the valley to visit, which struck you as odd now.

Your phone started to vibrate on the counter, jerking you back to the present. You looked at the screen, seeing “Dad” flash across it. Perfect timing.

You answered. “Hello? Wait, damn. Hang on…” You hurried over to the one place in the house that had a halfway decent signal. “Still there?”

A moment of silence, then your father spoke. “___? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Signal is bad out here. I can hear you for now, though. What’s up?”

“Haven’t heard from you in a while. Everything okay there?”

“Uh huh. Yeah. Just super busy. I kinda lost track of time, you know?”

“How’s the farming coming along?”

“Pretty good. I managed to grow some parsnips.”

“Imagine that.”

You huffed. “You don’t need to sound so surprised, Dad.”

He chuckled. “You never had a particularly green thumb.”

“Thanks, Dad.” You paused, chewing on your lower lip. “It’s hard, but I feel better, you know? I needed to get away from my desk job.”

“Really?” He sounded unconvinced.

“Yeah. It’s getting easier, now that I have things more or less tidied up. It really was a mess when I got here.”

Your dad sighed. “Your grandfather loved that old place. It was his pride and joy when he was a young man.”

You fell silent for a moment. “Dad? Why did we never visit Grandpa when he still had the farm running?”

You heard an exhale on the other end of the line, then silence. For a moment, you thought the connection had cut out. Then, your dad spoke.

“Ah, ___, we were always so busy. Your mother and I had work, and you were in school… time got away from us.”

“Funny, we always managed to go on family vacations each summer.” You cringed as you said it, the words coming out more sarcastic than you’d intended.

Another sigh from your father. “___, you know, you can always come home if it gets too hard out there.”

There it was. When you’d told your parents that you were going to move to the old farm, they’d tried their best to dissuade you. You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll be fine, Dad. Everyone here is really nice and helpful. I even got an invitation to the Flower Dance.” It’s true, you had. You hadn’t gone, but the point is, you had been invited. Your dad didn’t need to know that.

“Flower Dance, huh? Sounds like you’re settling in.”

“Yeah. For sure. Look, I’ll be in the city in a couple weeks for Alice’s birthday. I’ll make sure to visit you and Mom, okay?”

You wrapped up your conversation with your dad and hung up. It had been good to talk to him after so long. You took a bite of your now room-temperature toast, mulling things over. The way he’d so clearly dodged your question about never visiting your grandpa’s farm didn’t sit right with you. Your family had always taken vacations to destinations way harder to get to than Pelican Town. Come to think of it, your dad rarely, if ever, talked about his childhood here. Or in general. Why? You made a mental note to ask.