On the outskirts of a small, fog-covered town stood an abandoned mansion shrouded in mystery. Locals whispered of shadows that moved on their own and voices that echoed through its crumbling walls. Few dared to go near, but those who did returned with tales of whispers that lingered long after they had left.
One stormy evening, four friends—Emma, Liam, Sophie, and Noah—decided to explore the mansion, driven by curiosity and a thirst for adventure. Armed with flashlights and nerves of steel, they crossed the rusted iron gates that groaned under their touch. The wind howled through broken windows, and rain splattered against cracked walls as they stepped inside.
The air was thick with dust and the faint scent of decay. Their footsteps echoed loudly, disturbing the heavy silence. “This place is huge,” whispered Sophie, her voice barely above a breath. Liam shined his flashlight down a long hallway. “Let's split up and cover more ground,” he suggested.
Reluctantly, they agreed. Emma and Noah took the upper floor, while Liam and Sophie explored the ground level. As Emma and Noah climbed the creaking stairs, the whispers began. Faint at first—like a distant conversation—then growing louder. "Do you hear that?" Emma asked, gripping Noah's arm. He nodded, his face pale. The whispers grew clearer, repeating their names in chilling, breathy tones.
Downstairs, Liam and Sophie stumbled upon a grand ballroom. Chandeliers hung heavy with dust, and mirrors lined the walls, cracked and smeared with age. Sophie stepped closer to one of the mirrors, brushing away the dust. Her reflection stared back—but it didn't move with her. She gasped, stumbling back. "Liam... look!" she cried. But when he turned, the reflection had returned to normal.
Upstairs, Emma and Noah found themselves drawn to a locked door at the end of the hall. The whispers were louder here, almost desperate. Noah tried the handle; it was ice-cold and unmoving. Emma leaned in, pressing her ear against the wood. Suddenly, a scream—a shrill, piercing cry—erupted from the other side. They stumbled back, eyes wide with terror.
Without warning, the door creaked open. Darkness spilled out, shadows pooling at their feet. A whisper, louder than before, drifted into their ears: "You shouldn't have come..."
Panic surged through them, and they fled down the stairs, calling for Liam and Sophie. But the ballroom was empty—only their flashlights lay abandoned on the dusty floor, still switched on.
They bolted for the exit, the whispers chasing them, growing louder with every step. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the iron gates stood shut, locked tight. Emma turned back to the mansion, its windows glowing faintly with a sickly light. The whispers faded, but a single shadow stood at the doorway, watching them with hollow eyes.
No one ever saw Liam and Sophie again. Emma and Noah left town soon after, their dreams haunted by whispers and shadows that danced just beyond the light.
To this day, the mansion remains. Some say if you listen closely, you can still hear the whispers... and see shadows moving behind broken windows.
Would you dare to visit?
About the Creator
The Blue Ridge Stalker
Tom had left the Ford down the way, its spark plugs finally exhausted and no mechanics for a dozen miles back through the foothills to Strossburg. No matter, he had worn his boots—almost as if he planned for this to happen. The puzzle he sought to solve emanated from the woods clinging to the slopes above; the valley behind held no mysteries.
By Stephen A. Roddewig3 days ago in Fiction
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