rill
On a dark and stormy night, deep in a small village surrounded by dense forests, a group of friends gathered around a bonfire. They had planned this trip as a fun weekend getaway from the busy life of the city, hoping to relax and share stories around the fire. Little did they know that this evening would turn into an experience none of them would ever forget.
The group consisted of six friends, each with different personalities but bound by years of friendship. There was Adam, the adventurous one, always looking for excitement; Sarah, who loved telling ghost stories; Jake, who didn’t believe in anything supernatural; Emma, who was always cautious and scared easily; Rachel, the calm and collected one; and Sam, the joker of the group, always trying to lighten the mood. Together, they decided to share ghost stories that night, each trying to outdo the other with scarier tales.
The fire crackled as they sat in a circle, the night growing colder and darker with each passing hour. Sarah, with her love for horror, was the first to speak. She leaned in closer to the fire, her face half-lit by the flickering flames, and began her story.
“Years ago, in this very village,” she started, “there was a house at the edge of the forest. It was old, abandoned, and no one dared to go near it. People said it was haunted by the ghost of a woman who died tragically. Her name was Eliza, and she had been wronged by the villagers. They accused her of being a witch, and without proof, they burned her alive.”
Sarah’s voice dropped to a whisper, and the others leaned in, captivated by her tale. “But before she died,” she continued, “Eliza swore that she would return to take revenge on those who wronged her. The villagers never spoke of her again, and over time, the house was forgotten. But some say that on stormy nights like this, if you go near the house, you can hear her whispering in the wind, calling for justice.”
As she finished, the wind howled through the trees, and a cold breeze swept through the group, sending shivers down their spines. Even Jake, who usually didn’t believe in ghosts, looked uneasy. The atmosphere was tense, and no one spoke for a moment.
“That’s just a story,” Jake finally said, trying to break the tension. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
Adam, always eager for an adventure, saw an opportunity. “Well, if you’re so sure, why don’t we go find out?” he challenged. “There’s an old abandoned house not far from here. The locals said it’s been empty for years. Maybe that’s the house Sarah’s talking about.”
Emma immediately protested, “Are you crazy? We’re not going to some haunted house in the middle of the night!”
But Adam, excited by the idea of exploring something creepy, wouldn’t give up. “Come on, it’ll be fun! It’s just an old house. What’s the worst that could happen?”
The others were hesitant, but Adam’s enthusiasm was contagious. After some convincing, the group finally agreed to go, even though Emma and Sarah weren’t too thrilled about the idea.
They grabbed their flashlights and set off through the dark forest, following a narrow, overgrown path that led to the old house. The deeper they went into the woods, the more unsettling it became. The trees seemed to close in around them, and the sounds of the forest grew louder—the rustling of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot.
After what felt like hours, they finally reached the house. It was exactly how Sarah had described it—old, decaying, and ominous. The windows were broken, the roof was caving in, and the door hung crookedly on its hinges. The air around it felt heavy, as if the place carried the weight of its tragic past.
Sam, trying to lighten the mood, joked, “Well, this place definitely looks like it could use a renovation.”
But no one laughed. They all felt the eerie atmosphere that surrounded the house. Still, Adam, being his usual daring self, walked up to the door and pushed it open with a loud creak. “Come on,” he said, motioning for the others to follow. “It’s just an old house.”
Reluctantly, the rest of the group stepped inside. The air was thick with dust, and the wooden floor creaked under their feet. As they explored the dark, empty rooms, it became clear that no one had lived there for a very long time. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and the furniture was covered in grime.
Just as they were about to leave, they heard it—a faint whisper, like someone softly calling from the shadows. Emma froze, her heart racing. “Did you hear that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The others nodded, their faces pale. The whisper came again, this time clearer: “Eliza…”
Panic set in. “This isn’t funny, Adam,” Sarah said, her voice trembling. But Adam wasn’t smiling. His face was just as pale as the rest of them.
The whisper came once more, this time closer. “You shouldn’t have come…” it said, sending a wave of terror through the group. They bolted for the door, running out of the house and into the forest without looking back.
When they finally reached their campsite, they were breathless and shaken. No one spoke for a long time. The once playful and light-hearted group was now silent, the horror of what they had just experienced weighing heavily on them.
They sat around the fire, trying to make sense of what had happened. “It had to be the wind,” Jake said, though even he didn’t sound convinced. The others didn’t respond. Deep down, they knew that something beyond their understanding had happened in that house.
The rest of the trip was quiet. No one brought up the house again, and when they returned to the city, they promised never to speak of that night. But the memory of the whispers and the eerie presence in the house would stay with them forever—a ghost story they had lived through, and one they would never forget.


Comments (2)
Nice story 💞
Nice story 👏🏻