Sallie House

The air was thick with tension as the team gathered around the dimly lit table, the flickering of their lanterns casting distorted shadows across the room. Their breath was shallow, their hearts racing. There had been too many strange occurrences surrounding the Sally House—too many things that couldn't be explained. But nothing had prepared them for what they were about to uncover.

“Oh my God... what kind of teeth are those?” One of them gasped, voice cracking with panic. The others quickly turned to see what had drawn his attention. In his trembling hands was a small, delicate item—barely visible in the dark. His fingers shook as they gripped it, lifting it up for the others to see.

“What shape is that? What is it?” someone else murmured, fear creeping into their voice.

The object was unnervingly small—a drawing, simple yet disturbingly lifelike. But it wasn’t the drawing itself that made their stomachs turn. It was the inscription.

"Did you see what I’m holding in my hand?” the first man asked, his voice barely a whisper. His hand shook so violently that the picture rattled. “Oh my God, no, no, no... guys, it's a picture of Sally. The little girl we’ve been researching… and it says 'I heart you'. Why does it say that?"

There was a long silence as the group stared at the image, the words "I heart you" written in a childish, yet disturbingly perfect pencil stroke. But it wasn’t the words alone that made their blood run cold. It was the detail in the drawing—the little girl’s face, eerily perfect, as though she was watching them, seeing them through the paper.

But then, something even stranger caught their eye. On the back of the paper, written in crude, hurried letters: "eBay"—nothing more. No return address. No explanation. Just the word ‘eBay.’

“This can’t be real,” one of the team members whispered. “How did we even get this? And why is there no address? Who sent this to us?”

They turned to the others, their faces ashen, eyes wide with disbelief. The team had been investigating the house for weeks, collecting evidence, interviewing locals, and examining the terrifying paranormal activity surrounding the haunting of Sally. But this? This was beyond anything they had imagined.

“What the hell is going on?” another member muttered, her voice wavering. “And of all things... why Sally? Why is it her, of all people?”

he drawing was so detailed, so lifelike, it didn’t make sense. The lines were perfect, the shading flawless. No one in their team could have done this. The image of Sally looked almost... real. It was as if the little girl herself had sketched it with her own hand.

"There's no way we could have done this," one of the investigators said, shaking his head. "This is... this is too perfect. We didn’t draw this."

“We didn’t,” the lead investigator agreed, but his voice faltered as he looked at the picture again. “Someone had to have known. They had to have known we’d be here, we’d be investigating. How else would they know about Sally?”

His words hung in the air, thick with dread. Someone had left this for them. Someone who knew far too much.

But who? And why?

The room was silent as the reality sank in. Whoever had sent this—whatever force was behind it—had to be connected to the house, to Sally. The little girl who had died in that terrible, unfinished surgery. The little girl whose restless spirit had haunted the place for decades.

Suddenly, a chill swept through the room. The lights flickered. The temperature dropped. A whisper echoed in the air, so faint, so soft, it might have been the wind. Or maybe it was something else. Something darker. The investigators glanced at each other, fear twisting in their stomachs.

“We need to find out where this came from. Now,” the lead investigator said, his voice grim. “This is not part of the video. This isn’t something our team brought. Someone else—someone dangerous—is involved in this.”

And as they stared at the image of Sally, a sense of unease washed over them. The drawing wasn’t just a message. It was a warning.

But who, or what, had sent it? And why?

And with that, the realization hit. They weren’t alone in the house.

Sally was there, watching them. Waiting.They stood in a circle, their eyes unable to stop fixating on Sally's picture, as if she was watching them from within the pages themselves. The air was heavy and electric, like before a storm. Every little noise, every step of their feet, felt like they were managing to wake something out of the darkness

Just then, suddenly, all the doors upstairs slammed shut. The large door of the living room hesitated for a second, then slammed with a force that shook all the walls.

They froze in place. The absolute silence that followed the slamming of the doors was almost impossible.

"Are you sure it's us?" One of them asked, but no one answered.

From what they knew, there was no turning back. Something that understands everything that happens in this house, follows every step.

Sally? perhaps.

But what if there is something else, something much worse, waiting for the next opportunity to emerge from the darkness?