The whispering shadows

 

"The Whispering House"

Samantha had always been a curious soul. As a young girl, she spent her weekends exploring the woods near her home, often venturing into abandoned houses and forgotten places. But there was one house that she had always avoided—the old mansion at the edge of town, known as the Halloway House.

The house had been abandoned for decades. It was a decaying structure, its once-grand walls now covered in ivy and its windows shattered, staring out like empty eyes. The locals whispered stories about the house, tales of strange noises at night, of lights flickering in the windows, and of the terrible fate that had befallen the Halloway family. It was said that the family had vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but the house—and the strange, unsettling feeling that lingered in the air.

Despite the rumors, Samantha’s curiosity had always drawn her in. She had heard the stories from her friends, but she never believed in ghosts or curses. To her, they were just that—stories. One evening, after a particularly restless day, she decided to prove her friends wrong. She was going to enter the Halloway House.

As she approached the mansion, the sky above seemed to grow darker, clouds swirling as if the very air was responding to her decision. The wind picked up, making the branches of the nearby trees creak and groan. Her heart raced, but she couldn’t turn back now. She stepped onto the creaky porch and reached for the door.

The moment her hand touched the cold, rusted doorknob, a sharp chill ran down her spine. The door groaned open with a sound like bones cracking. Inside, the house was even darker than she expected, the only light coming from the occasional flash of lightning that lit up the sky. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she stepped inside, her flashlight barely illuminating the dark hallways ahead.

Suddenly, a soft whisper echoed through the house. It was faint, almost like a breath, but it sent a shiver through Samantha. She froze, straining her ears, but the house was silent again. She shook her head, trying to convince herself that it was just the wind.

She made her way deeper into the house, her flashlight flickering as if it were struggling to stay on. The air grew heavier with each step, and the whispers seemed to follow her, growing louder, clearer. “Leave… leave now… you shouldn’t be here…” The voice was low and distorted, as if coming from the walls themselves.

Samantha’s breath caught in her throat, but her legs moved on their own. She found herself in what had once been the living room. The furniture was overturned, the walls covered in peeling wallpaper, and the air smelled of damp rot. Yet, despite the decay, there was something strangely alive about the room, something watching her. She turned to leave, but as she did, she caught sight of a portrait on the wall—a painting of the Halloway family.

The family’s eyes seemed to follow her as she moved across the room, their faces twisted in expressions of terror. In the corner of the painting, a shadowy figure stood, partially hidden from view. It was a figure she had never seen before, but something about it felt wrong. The shadows seemed to shift around it, as if it were not fully part of this world.

The whispering grew louder now, a cacophony of voices filling her mind. “You shouldn’t have come… she’s waiting for you…”

Samantha stumbled backward, her heart pounding in her chest. The floor beneath her feet shifted, and the air became thick with the smell of decay. She turned to leave, but the door slammed shut behind her with a deafening crash.

Trapped.

Her flashlight flickered one last time before going out entirely. The darkness swallowed her whole. She reached for her phone, but it was dead, the screen cracked and unresponsive. Panic began to rise in her chest as the whispering voices continued, now forming words. “You can never leave… you are one of us now…”

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway behind her. They were slow at first, as if the person walking toward her was savoring each step. The floorboards groaned under the weight, and then the voice came again, louder and more urgent. “She’s coming for you…”

Samantha spun around, but there was no one there. The house seemed to close in on her, the walls pressing in, the air growing colder with every passing second. She backed into a corner, eyes darting around the room, looking for any escape.

And then she saw it.

At the far end of the room, a figure stood in the doorway. It was tall, its face obscured by a dark hood, its body draped in tattered, flowing robes. The figure moved slowly toward her, its footsteps echoing like a death march. As it drew closer, the whispers grew louder, until they were all she could hear. "She’s waiting for you… come to her…”

Samantha’s breath caught in her throat. Her body froze, but her mind screamed at her to run. The figure stepped closer, and for the first time, she saw its face—if it could even be called a face. It was a blank, pale expanse of skin, no features, no eyes, no mouth—nothing but a smooth, empty surface. The figure reached out a hand, and as it did, the temperature in the room plummeted. A chilling wave of cold washed over her, and she felt the presence of something ancient, something malevolent.

Samantha turned and ran, her footsteps echoing as she stumbled through the dark halls of the house. The whispering voices surrounded her, and the shadows seemed to close in at every turn. The house itself seemed to be alive, its walls shifting and groaning as if it were alive, chasing her, trapping her.

She reached the front door, her fingers desperately grasping for the handle. But when she tried to turn it, it was locked. The sound of footsteps behind her grew louder, closer. She felt the cold breath on her neck, and the whispering voices reached a fever pitch, now all around her, pressing in from every direction. "You can never leave…"

With a final, terrified scream, Samantha slammed herself against the door, hoping for any way out. The door groaned under the pressure, but it didn’t open. The house had claimed her.

The next morning, the townspeople found the Halloway House silent once more. The door was still closed, the windows boarded up. But when they went inside, they found something that made their blood run cold.

Samantha’s flashlight was lying on the floor, its light flickering faintly, casting eerie shadows across the walls. And on the floor, in a dark corner, was a single, twisted smile, drawn in the dust.

The house had claimed her. And now, it waited fo

r the next curious soul to wander in.

The End.