Marvin takes the overnight shift at the city morgue for extra pay, expecting quiet nights to study. But when the temperature drops and drawers begin to move on their own, he encounters something unnatural—tall, stitched-together, and watching him with empty eyes. Whispers and wet breathing fill the morgue as he realizes the dead are not alone. Trapped, Marvin faces a terrifying truth: the morgue demands a new keeper. By morning, all is in order… except for one drawer, marked with his own name.

Max Shackleford believes suburban life is harmless and predictable—until one quiet night of experimentation fractures reality. A familiar hallway stretches impossibly long, revealing doors glowing with unnatural color. When Max’s friend Jerome opens one, he steps into a vast world hidden beneath the suburb: endless houses, endless half-lived lives. Jerome vanishes, leaving Max trapped in a normal world that no longer feels safe, haunted by the certainty that something vast and watching lies just beyond the walls.

Guy Nevins’ life appears, from the outside, to follow a flawless and inevitable trajectory. A football prodigy in Oklahoma, he becomes a hometown legend before adulthood, the kind of player whose presence alone fills stadiums. At Notre Dame, his reputation deepens; his name is spoken with reverence, weighted by expectation and destiny. When the Minnesota Vikings select him fourth overall in the 1992 NFL Draft, Guy believes his career has unfolded exactly as it was meant to—each triumph a logical step toward professional stardom. That belief fractures the moment he arrives in Minnesota and confronts reality. The Vikings already have a star quarterback entrenched as the starter—efficient, trusted, and beloved. This man embodies stability and success, the very qualities coaches prize and rookies cannot displace easily. For two seasons, Guy languishes on the bench, reduced to holding a clipboard, offering rehearsed smiles, and absorbing commentary about patience and development.

Alice finally fulfills her dream of owning a secluded coastal home on the Vineyard, a “legacy property” with centuries of history. At first, the house charms her with sunlight and creaking floors, but soon she hears strange tapping beneath the cellar. Nightmares of rising water and something pressing from below grow more vivid. The house isn’t just old—it’s alive with secrets, holding something in, waiting. Terrified, Alice flees, realizing some homes are never meant to be lived in.

Daniel Crowe knows the woods, but one night they turn against him. When the forest falls into an unnatural silence, he realizes he is no longer the hunter but the observed. A massive, unknowable creature emerges—unhurried, curious, unstoppable. Gunshots fail, escape is an illusion, and survival is never the point. Days later, officials blame bears, but hunters whisper of places where the air reeks of iron and rot, where footsteps follow patiently. Some things don’t chase. They don’t need to.

Veronica Hale becomes obsessed with a missing-child poster at her local market—because the girl looks exactly like her. Same face. Same scar. Same name. As Veronica uncovers a decades-old cold case, her own past begins to fracture: unanswered questions about her adoption, a father who refuses to explain, and visions of the child following her through reflections and dreams. When the poster changes and Veronica herself is listed as missing, she realizes the truth is not trying to be found—it is trying to come back.

Twenty-five-year-old Lisa Huntington pushes too far into the winter woods of northern Maine when her snowmobile dies and the trail disappears beneath fresh snow. With no signal, failing strength, and daylight fading, she presses on as the forest grows tighter and the silence turns watchful. Tracks appear. Sounds follow. By nightfall, Lisa learns the wilderness is not empty, not forgiving—and once it claims something, it never gives it back.

Born minutes apart in 1843, twins Jacob and Jack Underwood are separated by fate and raised on opposite sides of a divided nation. One grows into a Confederate soldier loyal to home and soil; the other becomes a Union man devoted to preserving the nation. Neither knows the other lives—until Gettysburg. Amid smoke and chaos, they come face to face, identical strangers bound by blood and circumstance. In a war that demands loyalty above all else, the brothers must choose between duty and kinship, proving that survival often leaves the deepest wounds.

By his sixth summer on the route, ice cream man Walter Sloan has learned that cruelty, once tolerated, only grows louder. When a group of local children push him too far on his final day in Alton Bay, a quiet, irreversible lesson follows. What happens leaves no sirens, no official answers, and a town permanently altered. As streets are renamed and memories suppressed, Alton Bay relearns silence, restraint, and fear. Temple Street is a dark meditation on patience, vengeance, and the cost of looking away—because some lessons, once learned, never fade.

Kevin Shaw, a veteran diver, believes the ocean is governed by rules he understands—until an anniversary dive in the Florida Keys reveals something that should not exist. Beneath shallow, familiar waters, Kevin and his wife Carroll discover a massive, ancient structure that feels less like a ruin and more like a boundary. When it stirs, the sea itself turns hostile, forcing a desperate escape. They survive, but awareness lingers below. The ocean has noticed them, and it does not forget.