On December 30th, the town went dark. No lights. No decorations. No warmth left to hide behind. Then the singing began. Old Christmas carols drifted through the snow-broken, slowed and wrong. The voices came from houses that had been empty since before Christmas, places no one had stepped into… yet something still remembered the songs. This is a quiet winter horror story about sound that moves without bodies, voices that don’t need mouths and a town that listens when it should be sleeping. If you have ever stood in the dark and felt like the silence was waiting for you; this story already knows your name. Listen carefully. Some carols don’t end when the music stops.