The Cursed House

Cursed House

At dusk, the setting was in a small village in Jereshwari. The sky was cloudy, and the wind was wearing a creepy cold. At the other end of the village was the house of an old abandoned mansion - his walls were covered in ivy and barely hanging from rusty hinges. No one lived there for decades.

444 The legend whispered that the house was cursed. Villagers flickered at the windows that came out at night, talking in steaming tones of the eerie light that had been embodied. Some claimed they saw and observed a pale figure by the window on the upper floor.

Arindam, a young journalist from the city of

, had heard these stories before. In contrast to the villagers, he did not believe in ghosts. He believed in logic and evidence to find the truth. And tonight, he decided to reveal the secrets of the cursed house. Spukhaus One night at

Arindam arrived at the villa when the last rays of the sun disappeared. The entrance was blocked by overgrown weeds, but we pushed through. The wooden door groaned as he opened it. A damp, moldy smell quickly met him - rotten wood, mold and other mixtures... It burned a little weakly.

Made his flashlight shine, and he intervened. The magnificent wind stretched out in the darkness. The walls were lined with faded paintings, with subjects' faces barely visible under layers of dust. A broken chandelier was hanging from his crystal.

444 Then he heard it.

444 A soft sigh. 444 He frozen.

The noise came from a room at the edge of the hall. He gathered courage and moved on. The wooden floor smeared under the stage. When he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment and opened it.

The interior was an old mirror, and his glass had been dull before his age. Alindam caught his reflection - or he thought so.

444 But something moved. 444 444 The second person was behind him. 444

Girls. As dull as death.

444 She wore a white dress and was stained and torn apart. Her eyes were a hollow, dark cavity that seemed to be pulling it. 444 444 Arindam turned around. 444 444 There is nothing.

444 His heartbeat. He returned to the mirror. The girl was still there.

444 And this time, she whispered. 444 He knew what he saw - it wasn't his imagination.

For the first time in his life, he felt real fear. But he had to know the truth.

444 The heart swallowed: 444 The room seemed cold. The air thickened, and I pressed it against him like an invisible weight. 444 Then the whispers returned.

"I am Rohini. My daughter lives in this house. I was murdered here. "

444 A cold ran down his spine. His name rang the bell. He had heard the villagers of Rohini, the only daughter of the cruel landlord, Pratap Narayan. She disappeared overnight and was never seen again. 444 444 "Please tell me what happened," he pressed, his voice barely in a whisper.

The candles in the corner flickered violently. And the whisper turned into words.

444 Rohini was in love with a low caste man. When her father discovered her events, his anger was unaware of the limitations. He closes her in the room and refuses to see her lover again. However, Rohini was rebellious. She refused to give up on love.

On a fateful night, her father's anger reached its peak. He attacked her room, dragging her into his hair, his voice thundering. And he strangled her with his own hands in an unruly, angry confiscation. 444 Your invigorating body has never received a proper funeral. Instead, it was hidden under the panels at the Manor House.

444 and her soul has been captured ever since. 444 Breaking the curse, Arindam's hand trembled as he listened. He could almost hear the echoes of Rohini's screams, the sound of her father's rage.

444 "You must bring justice to me," her voice came into view.

444 "But what?" he asked.

"Under the board... my bones are still there. Please let me go. "

The room suddenly felt suffocated. Alindam knew he couldn't ignore it. He had to act. Armed with shovels and tools, they dug as soon as Rohini announced. The villagers looked at the shovel a little hard. 444

bones.

444 The human skeleton has been buried under the house for decades.

444 The truth has finally come into existence.

The villagers, frightened by what they saw, arranged a real funeral. Rohini's body was cremated, and the ashes of the river were scattered according to the ritual. 444 Tonight, I squealed the door to the villa. The air once became difficult with sadness, and now it felt easy. For the first time in years, the wind had no whispers, no screams.

444 Rohini was free.

444 And from that day, the house was never attacked again.