The House on Hollow Hill

Horror Story: The House on Hollow Hill

I first heard about the house on Hollow Hill, well, I didn't believe it. It had been passed around in local legend for decades: a place of unspeakable horrors where people went in but never came out. I had always dismissed it as superstition. Until I received a letter that would change everything.

This was a letter from my sister, missing for twenty years. She wrote in the letter that she was inside the house and couldn't leave, and she begged for help. I had very mixed feelings about going there. Fear? Yes. Anticipation? Yes. But something new that I'd never felt before: dread.

My sister had been everything in my life, my idol. She was eighteen, and I was sixteen when she vanished. She had always been of the adventurous kind where this urge to see the world beyond our small town burned inside her. She took a dare one day to go to Hollow Hill House and never came back. It was as if she turned into thin air.

The day I got her letter was the most trying time in my whole life. I felt split in two, like a fissure had appeared, all of a sudden; I tried to knit it back together with friendships and relationships, but they were rickety rope bridges that swayed and fractured. Nothing could fill the gap. I was lost, wayward, depressed. Now, two decades later, I could find her. Indeed, the letter was old and worn, but the message was quite clear: she was alive and trapped inside the House of Horrors. I couldn't wrap my brain around it. How could she stand it—be in that place for so long? I tried not to feel hurt by it; I just could not help it. We were so close.

I had read a lot about haunted places since—well, I mean, I grasped the premise—but don't know; it's just that, with blood, I felt inextricably linked: siblings. And well… I thought nothing could break it. Nothing.

I'm tired now. I just facing the house with flashlight on. Feeling, an air thick with ominous silence. Dry mouthed. Jittery legs. Nervous.

Scared.

The door creaks, and I step inside. Musty, cold air greets the senses; it almost feels dark in here. Being inside seems a living entity; it felt like there was being an eye on me. My flashlight flickers, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

I yell my sister's name. My voice shakes. There is no answer. The farther into the house I go, the heavier and heavier it gets. There's a groan beneath every step onto the floor. A chill runs down my back.

Then, suddenly, I hear it, a very low whisper. My heart is beating of excitement the moment I follow the sound. The whisper points me to some kind of door. I open it and find a staircase down to darkness.

I take a big breath and start down, the flashlight in my hand barely piercing this gloom. Whispers grow louder, more pressing. I reach the bottom, finding myself in a basement. It is damp, cold, and the walls have weird symbols.

There she is. My sister, sitting down, cornered, her eyes wide, like in the grip of fear. She looks just as she did twenty years ago. To the highest degree of pure terror.

I rush towards her but she steps back. "Stay away!" she screams, warning me. "It's a trap!"

The door slams shut behind me before I have a chance to react. Whispers grew to cackling laughter, while symbols on the walls began glowing, giving an eerie light. A presence all passe, ancient and malignant closed in on us.

We're not alone.

I yank my sister to her feet with my other hand. We've got to get out, but the room feels closing in—the walls seem to be shifting and moving. We run, but every path leads back to that basement. The house is a maze—the living nightmare.

As I turn it over in my mind now, I realize it was simply waiting for me. It lured me here with the promise of my sister. Now, we both are trapped—our lives forfeit to the iniquitous entity bound within these walls. But now, hollow and staring out into the darkness, I understand the true horror of Hollow Hill. This is no house at all. It's a predator, one that feeds on fear and despair. And we're only its newest meals. *** 688 words The fears of man, the boundness of family—such is what has always held a great fascination with me. This story shall borrow from the very depths of human emotion: those deep emotional connections with loved ones, and the terror of losing them to forces beyond all human understanding.