The visitor

Laura had always loved the old house. It sat at the edge of the small town, surrounded by thick woods, its walls covered in ivy that had grown unchecked for years. The house had been in her family for generations, a place filled with memories and stories passed down like heirlooms.

When her grandmother passed away, the house was left to Laura, and she moved in without hesitation. It was a bit run-down, but Laura found comfort in the creaking floorboards and the smell of aged wood. She spent her days cleaning, fixing, and exploring every corner, hoping to uncover the secrets it held.

One rainy afternoon, as she was sorting through boxes in the attic, Laura found something peculiar. Hidden beneath an old quilt was a small, ornate box. It was made of dark wood, intricately carved with patterns she didn’t recognize. A strange sense of unease washed over her as she held it in her hands.

She opened the box and found a single key inside. The key was old, heavy, and looked like it belonged to another era. Laura turned it over in her hands, wondering what it could unlock. She didn’t recall ever seeing a lock that might match it in the house.

Curiosity piqued, Laura began searching for the lock. She checked every door, cabinet, and chest in the house, but none fit the key. Frustrated, she sat down in the living room, turning the key over in her hand again and again.

As she sat there, the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed, its deep tones resonating through the house. Laura glanced at the clock, noticing that it had stopped. The key slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor with a metallic clink.

When she picked it up, she noticed something she hadn’t before—a small, almost invisible indentation on the clock’s face. She hesitated for a moment, then inserted the key into the indentation. To her surprise, it turned easily.

The clock made a soft clicking sound, and the front panel slid open, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside was a small, yellowed envelope with her name written on it in elegant script. Her heart raced as she opened the envelope and pulled out a letter.

The letter was from her grandmother, written in a shaky hand that betrayed her age. It spoke of a family secret, something that had been kept hidden for generations. The house, her grandmother wrote, was not just a home; it was a gateway, a place where the boundary between this world and another was thin.

Laura read the letter twice, disbelief mingling with fear. Her grandmother had always been a storyteller, but this felt different—more real. The letter warned of a visitor who would come, a visitor who had been waiting for the right moment to cross over.

As Laura sat there, trying to make sense of it all, a loud knock echoed through the house. She froze, the letter slipping from her fingers. The knock came again, louder this time. Laura slowly rose from her seat and walked toward the front door.

She opened the door to find a tall, shadowy figure standing on the porch. The figure was cloaked in darkness, its face obscured, but Laura could feel its eyes on her.

“I’ve come for what was promised,” the figure said in a voice that sent chills down her spine.

Laura’s heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. The visitor stepped forward, and Laura instinctively backed away, the key still clutched in her hand.

Before she could react, the figure reached out and took the key from her. A cold, eerie smile spread across its face as it turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Laura standing in the doorway, trembling.

The house was silent again, but the unease lingered. Laura knew that whatever she had unleashed, it was now beyond her control.