Cornersville Chapter One

A Southern Gothic Horror Novella

George Granger’s old pickup truck rattled and hummed as it cruised into Cornersville, a small town nestled in the Tennessee River Valley, cloaked in a quiet, almost eerie stillness. The sun was dipping behind the hills, casting long shadows that stretched across the narrow roads.

His destination had always been clear—Emily. She’d called him a few days ago, and there had been an unmistakable sense of urgency in her voice—though she hadn’t said much. Her words were vague, but George could sense the desperation that laced her tone. She needed him. The rest of the conversation had been filled with hints and half-formed explanations that barely made sense. But one thing was clear—something was wrong in Cornersville, and Emily was caught in the middle of it.

He had spent too many years and seen too much despair in places where the truth was buried beneath layers of lies. And when Emily reached out, he knew it meant something. He didn’t hesitate. He packed his things, got in his truck, and headed south.

He glanced at the small town as it came into view. Cornersville was a far cry from the bustling places he usually found himself in. It had an almost sleepy charm, with its old brick buildings and quiet streets. Yet, there was something off about it, something that kept gnawing at the back of his mind as he drove in. The town seemed like it was stuck in time, its walls hiding secrets that the world outside couldn’t touch.

The hum of the engine slowed as he coasted into the heart of town. George didn’t notice the speed limit signs at first—his mind focused on Emily—but the flash of red lights in his rearview mirror jolted him back to reality.

He sighed, his hand moving instinctively to the steering wheel. The sheriff’s car was there, not far behind, and he had been caught—a minor speeding violation. No big deal. But there was something about the way the car followed him that felt intentional.

The sheriff stepped out of the car, his grey uniform and badge gleaming under the fading sun. He was tall and broad-shouldered, the kind of man who looked like he was used to getting things done with a few sharp words and a heavy hand. As he approached George’s window, his expression was impassive, his face hard to read behind the aviator sunglasses.

“You were speeding,” the sheriff said, his voice smooth but firm. He seemed to be studying George more than usual, his eyes lingering a moment too long.

George leaned back in the seat, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Wasn’t paying attention, sheriff. Just passing through.”

The sheriff didn’t answer immediately as he lowered his sunglasses. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and for a second, George thought he saw something flicker in them. A recognition? He couldn’t be sure.

“I’ll need your license and registration,” the sheriff said, his voice suddenly colder. George handed them over, his fingers brushing against the sheriff’s, and something felt off. The sheriff’s aura was unnaturally cold—almost as if his skin had been touched by something that wasn’t quite human.

A few moments later, the sheriff handed George his ticket, a $150 fine for speeding. He didn’t speak much, just gave a curt nod as he told him to slow down. As he turned back to his car, George could still feel the tension in the air. Something felt off about this small town—and the sheriff’s speed trap was just the first sign.

As George drove on, his mind kept returning to Emily’s call. Why had she asked him to come? What was going on in Cornersville that had caused her so much distress?

The truck rolled into the square as twilight faded to dusk. The church on the corner caught his eye—its tall, looming presence a reminder of the town’s history. George didn’t know that the First Baptist Church of Cornersville was founded in the early 1800s by some of the town’s earliest settlers, who were deeply religious and believed that their town’s future was tied to divine protection. It became a cornerstone of the community, serving not only as a place of worship but also as a social gathering spot, a place where the town’s secrets were sometimes whispered and where influential figures met.

There was a sudden unease settling in his gut. There was something strange about the town, something lurking beneath its sleepy, timeworn facade. Emily needed his help, but he wasn’t sure what he was walking into. He parked near the church and sat for a moment in the truck, staring out at the quiet town. What was it that Emily wasn’t telling him?

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his thumb hovering over the screen as he glanced at the text message.

It was from Emily.

“Be careful. You’re already being watched.”

George felt his pulse quicken as he read the words again, his gut tightening. Watched.

The chill that had been following him since he arrived in Cornersville settled into his bones, and for the first time since he’d left his tangled life behind to come to aid his old flame, he wondered just how deep the rabbit hole really went.