The Echoes Beneath

Carly’s hometown had its share of haunted spots, but none compared to the abandoned tunnels beneath the old Fernwick Orphanage. Closed decades ago after a string of tragic deaths, the orphanage sat at the edge of town, its empty halls and locked gates hiding the secrets buried below.

When Carly’s friends challenged her to explore the tunnels on Halloween night, she couldn’t resist. The mystery of Fernwick had fascinated her since childhood, with stories of children’s voices echoing from beneath the earth, and strange shadows flickering in the windows even though no one had lived there for years. Carly had to know the truth.

As midnight approached, she and her friends—Tyler, Jenna, and Nate—crept to the orphanage, flashlights in hand, and slipped through a gap in the old fence. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the broken windows seemed to watch them as they entered the building. The cold silence amplified each nervous breath and careful step.

At the end of a narrow hallway, Carly found the entrance to the tunnels: a rusted metal door chained shut. But with a bit of prying, Nate managed to break the lock, and the door swung open, releasing a wave of stale, frigid air. They descended the damp stone steps, their flashlights casting weak beams in the darkness as the walls around them closed in.

The tunnels were eerily quiet, except for the faint drip of water echoing in the distance. The floors were littered with toys, scattered like they’d been abandoned in a hurry: dusty teddy bears, cracked dolls, a forgotten jump rope tangled in the dirt. Carly shivered; it felt like they had intruded on a space that wasn’t meant to be disturbed.

They wandered deeper, calling out in whispers to one another as the tunnels twisted and turned, branching off into narrow passageways. The deeper they went, the more Carly felt a strange pull, a sensation that grew stronger the closer she got to the heart of the tunnels. It was as if something, or someone, was leading her deeper.

Suddenly, she heard it—a faint, childlike giggle, bouncing off the walls, soft but unmistakable.

“Did… did you guys hear that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her friends nodded, faces pale in the dim light. They strained to listen, but the giggle was gone, replaced by silence so complete that even their breathing seemed too loud.

Then, a voice—soft and innocent—called out from the darkness. “Will you come play with us?”

Jenna gasped, gripping Carly’s arm. The voice was close, too close, but when they swung their flashlights around, they saw only empty shadows.

“Let’s turn back,” Nate said, his voice trembling. But as they turned, they found the path behind them had vanished, the tunnels rearranged in twisted, unfamiliar patterns.

“Impossible,” Tyler muttered, stepping back. “This… this isn’t real.”

But Carly knew, somehow, that it was very real. They had wandered too deep. They were no longer in a place governed by logic or light.

The whispers began again, this time all around them—children’s voices, pleading, laughing, sometimes crying. They could almost make out words, but each time they tried to listen, the voices would fade, just out of reach. Carly’s heart raced as she felt a hand brush her arm, cold and small, but when she turned, there was nothing there.

Tyler’s flashlight flickered, then died, leaving them in near darkness. The remaining light danced over the walls, casting shadows that seemed to move on their own. The sound of shuffling footsteps grew louder, as if something—or many somethings—were moving closer.

“What… what do you want from us?” Carly called out, her voice shaking.

A soft, innocent voice replied from somewhere in the dark. “Stay. Don’t leave us… alone.”

The shadows closed in, shifting to form hazy, childlike figures, each one staring at them with hollow eyes, faces twisted in expressions of sorrow and longing. Carly and her friends backed away, but there was nowhere to go—the shadows surrounded them.

Then Carly understood: these were the children who had been forgotten, left to wander the darkness beneath Fernwick for eternity. The tragedy of the orphanage had bound them here, and they weren’t ready to let go.

Tyler stumbled forward, trying to push past the figures, but one shadow reached out, touching his shoulder. His eyes glazed over, and his face went slack. He turned to the others, a vacant, distant look in his eyes.

“Come play with me,” he whispered in a child’s voice, eerie and unnatural.

Carly screamed, but it was swallowed by the darkness, lost in the oppressive weight of the tunnels. Jenna grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Tyler, who now wandered into the shadows, blending into the crowd of forgotten children.

“We… we have to get out,” Jenna whispered, clutching Carly’s hand. They turned, rushing back through the endless maze, their footsteps echoing with the hollow sound of despair.

The shadows followed, their soft footsteps just behind, whispering in childish voices, begging, pleading. Carly felt herself weakening, as if the voices were leeching her will to move, to even try to escape. She stumbled, catching herself as she looked into the face of a little girl, her eyes empty yet filled with an ancient sadness.

“Please, stay with us,” the girl whispered, her tiny hand reaching out.

Jenna pulled Carly back, and together they ran until the tunnel began to shift, the air growing fresher, a faint glimmer of moonlight breaking through the darkness. They burst through the rusted metal door, collapsing on the ground outside, gasping for air.

But Tyler… Tyler never returned.

In the following days, Carly found herself haunted by his last words, his hollow, childlike voice echoing in her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadows still followed her, that the whispers lingered in her mind, soft and pleading, just beneath the surface.

Late at night, when she was alone, she could still hear the voice of that little girl, calling to her from the darkness.

“Please, Carly… come play with us.”

Thank you for diving into The Echoes Beneath. If you enjoyed this journey into the unknown, don’t forget to like and share—and keep an ear out for those voices that never truly fade. 🎃