The House That Whispers
And Other Sounds You Can’t Explain
The old house at the end of Birchwood Lane had stood empty for twenty years. Its peeling paint, broken shutters, and sagging porch made it the perfect subject of local ghost stories. Teenagers dared each other to step onto its creaking steps, but no one ever stayed long—especially after what happened to the Millers.
Chapter 1: The New Tenants
Sarah and Mark Carter needed a fresh start. After Mark’s job transfer, they moved into the house on Birchwood—cheap, spacious, and, according to the realtor, "full of character." Their eight-year-old daughter, Emily, loved exploring the overgrown backyard, where she claimed she heard someone singing.
"It’s just the wind," Sarah assured her, though she couldn’t explain why the tune sounded like a lullaby her own grandmother used to sing.
Chapter 2: The First Night
The knocking started at 3:17 AM. Three sharp raps on the front door. Mark checked—no one there. The next night, Emily sleepwalked into the hallway, staring at the attic door.
"The lady wants me to play," she murmured.
Sarah’s blood turned to ice. There was no "lady" in the house.
Chapter 3: The History
The town librarian hesitated before handing Sarah a yellowed newspaper clipping: "Local Family Vanishes, 1983." The Millers—parents and a little girl—had lived in the house. The father went mad, claiming "something" was whispering to his daughter. One night, screams tore through the neighborhood. By morning, the house was empty. Only the girl’s doll remained, tucked in the attic.
Chapter 4: The Truth in the Attic
Sarah found the doll. Its porcelain face was cracked, one eye missing, its dress stained with something dark. When she touched it, the house shuddered. A woman’s voice hissed:
"She’s mine now."
Emily’s laughter echoed from upstairs—but Emily wasn’t home.
Chapter 5: The Final Whisper
Mark smashed the attic door open. Emily stood in the center of the room, facing the shadowed corner. Her head tilted at an impossible angle.
"Mommy," she said—but the voice wasn’t hers.
The last thing Sarah saw was the doll’s remaining eye blinking.
About the Creator
Duon Lee
I craft nightmares in under 1,000 words. I specialize in psychological horror that lingers like a shadow at the edge of your vision.Hope you like it!
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