Chapter One: An Invitation to Death

Bellhollow was a town shrouded in mist, nestled on the edge of thick, looming woods. A place where the trees whispered old secrets and the moonlight never seemed to reach the ground. The kind of town that stayed with you long after you left, like the memory of a nightmare you couldn't quite shake.

Pippa Fitz-Amobi didn't believe in ghosts. She didn't believe in monsters, curses, or haunted woods. She believed in facts, evidence, and logic. But standing at the edge of Bellhollow, where fog curled through the crooked iron gates, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of unease.

The message that had brought her here was simple enough: "Find her before she finds you." It was scrawled in messy handwriting, tucked inside an envelope with no return address. Enclosed was a single photograph—an old, grainy picture of a place marked on the back as "The Hollow Grave." The picture showed a cluster of decaying gravestones surrounded by dense trees. A place lost in time.

Pip didn't know Violet West. But she knew a disappearance when she saw one. And she knew when something didn't add up.

Violet West—age seventeen, last seen at Bellhollow High School's Harvest Ball two nights ago. That much was public knowledge. But when Pip had started digging deeper, making calls, she found the locals less than eager to share information. Bellhollow had secrets. Secrets that people kept buried, much like the bodies in those forgotten graves.

"Another small town with skeletons in the closet," Pip muttered under her breath as she crossed through the gates.

Little did she know, she wasn't the only one who had been drawn to Bellhollow by the promise of mystery. Dark eyes watched from the shadows, silently assessing.


The car engine cut out, and Pip stepped onto the damp cobblestone road, tugging her coat closer. The town seemed to watch her, houses huddled together in the fog, their windows like black eyes. She glanced down at her phone, checking the address for the B where she'd booked a room for the week.

She didn't get far before someone stepped out from an alleyway in front of her, stopping her dead in her tracks. The girl was pale, dressed entirely in black, her long braids draped over her shoulders like nooses.

"Pippa Fitz-Amobi," the girl said in a flat tone. It wasn't a question.

Pip blinked in surprise. "That's me. And you are?"

The girl's lips quirked into the smallest semblance of a smile. "Wednesday Addams."

Pip knew that name. She'd heard of the Addams family, the notorious clan with more history than sense and an affinity for the strange. But what was Wednesday Addams doing here?

"Wednesday Addams?" Pippa repeated, eyes narrowing slightly. "What brings you to Bellhollow?"

Wednesday tilted her head ever so slightly, her expression unreadable. "I was invited," she said. "I received a letter. An intriguing one." She held out a piece of parchment, yellowed at the edges. The handwriting matched the one on Pip's envelope perfectly.

Pip took it, frowning as she read: *"The Hollow Grave awaits. Come. It's a matter of life and death."*

"So, you're here to investigate Violet West?" Pip asked, glancing up.

Wednesday's smile returned, a slow, deliberate expression that was both unsettling and somehow comforting in its certainty. "Missing people have a way of showing up…eventually. Sometimes in pieces." She folded her arms, the white cuffs of her shirt peeking from beneath her jacket sleeves.

Pip's brow furrowed. "Right," she said, clearing her throat. "Well, I suppose we're working together, then."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Wednesday replied. "We're pursuing the same mystery. Whether or not we're 'together' depends on what I find." She gestured toward the woods at the edge of town. "The Hollow Grave isn't far. I plan to pay it a visit before sundown. You're welcome to follow. If you can keep up."

Pip's mouth tightened. She didn't particularly like the idea of being dragged along by someone else's agenda, especially not someone like Wednesday. But Wednesday had information. And as much as Pip hated to admit it, she needed all the help she could get in a place like Bellhollow.

"I'm coming," Pip said. "But we do this my way. Methodical. No rushing into creepy graveyards without a plan."

Wednesday raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "I find that rushing in often yields the most interesting results," she said coolly. "But by all means, lead the way, detective."


The woods surrounding Bellhollow were even more imposing up close. The trees were ancient, their gnarled branches tangled together like the twisted bones of giants long dead. The air was thick with the scent of moss and decaying leaves, and a persistent, eerie silence settled over everything. It felt as though the forest was waiting.

Pip and Wednesday followed a narrow, overgrown path that led deeper into the heart of the woods. The town had long since disappeared behind them, swallowed by the trees.

"The Hollow Grave is ahead," Wednesday said after a long stretch of silence. "I've read about places like this. Some cultures bury their dead in forests, believing the trees will keep them safe from the living."

Pip glanced over at Wednesday. "And do you believe that?"

Wednesday shrugged, her eyes scanning the trees ahead. "I believe that death has a way of seeping into the ground, no matter how deep you bury it."

The words sent a chill down Pip's spine, but she pressed on.

As they reached the clearing, the fog thickened, swirling around the base of weathered gravestones. The Hollow Grave was aptly named. The earth seemed to sag in the center, as though the ground itself had given up trying to hold back whatever lay beneath. The gravestones were crooked, some half-buried, others shattered. Pip knelt beside one of the stones, brushing away the moss to reveal a name: Elias Thorne, 1842-1901.

"This place is ancient," she muttered.

Wednesday didn't respond immediately. Her dark eyes were fixed on something at the far end of the clearing. Pip followed her gaze and saw it—a shallow depression in the ground, as though the earth had recently been disturbed.

"A grave," Pippa said, her stomach tightening.

"A fresh one," Wednesday corrected. She knelt beside it, her hand hovering over the soil. "Someone was here."

Pip crouched beside her, her pulse quickening. "Violet?"

"Perhaps," Wednesday said. "But I doubt she's resting in peace." She stood and took a step back, her expression as calm as ever. "The question is, where did they take her after they dug her up?"

Pip's mind raced. This was no longer just a case of a missing person. It was something darker, something far more twisted than she had imagined.

"Welcome to Bellhollow," Wednesday said, her voice soft, as though she were greeting an old friend. "Things are about to get interesting."

End of Chapter One


This work of fiction is in conjunction with ChatGPT. I wanted a story with Wednesday (Jenna) and Pip (Emma) solving murder mysteries together. I personally do not have the time nor the patience to write something but I really wanted to have their story happen. Just discovering ChatGPT for myself, I asked it to create this murder mystery. I've enjoyed it so far and hopefully you will too.