The House That Isn’t There

Part I: The Black Room

Calla woke up with blood on her hands.

No pain. No wound. Just the metallic scent of something that wasn’t hers.

She was lying on the floor of a room she didn’t recognize — all black walls, no windows. A mirror hung on one side. Her reflection stared back, silent, hollow-eyed.

And then she saw it:

The words scratched into the wall behind her — “GO BACK BEFORE HE FINDS OUT.”

Part II: The Boy Who Says He Knows Her

His name was Elias.

He found her wandering the forest road barefoot, blood drying on her fingers, and panic clawing behind her eyes.

“Calla?” he whispered, as if saying her name might break something. “You’re alive.”

She didn’t remember him.

He said they were together. Said they ran from something. Said there was a house.

But Calla didn’t remember a house.

Not until he said the name: “Davenport Manor.”

Then the visions came. White walls. Fire. Screaming. Her own hands are holding something sharp.

Part III: The House That Isn’t There

They returned together, but the road he took didn’t lead anywhere.

Just an open clearing where the house should be. The grass is too green. Trees are too quiet.

“No, it was here. I swear—” Elias’s voice broke.

Calla walked ahead. Her feet crunched something hard.

Porcelain.

A doll’s head. Cracked open.

She blinked — and for just a second — the clearing flickered like a mirage. A Victorian house stood tall, its windows glowing. And a woman in the upper room, staring down at her.

Then it vanished again.

Part IV: The Memory Spiral

Elias begged her to leave it alone.

But Calla couldn’t stop. Every night, she dreamed of the house. Of a girl named Mara screaming. Of her own voice whispering: “She deserved it.”

One night, she sleepwalked into the forest.

She woke standing in the clearing. And the house was there again.

This time, she went inside.

It was dusty, abandoned. But someone had lit candles. And on the floor — a drawing in red chalk: a spiral with a name scratched over and over. MARA.

And behind her, the whisper: “You remember now, don’t you?”

Part V: Truth in Pieces

Calla ran.

Back to Elias. Demanding answers.

His face twisted. “You weren’t supposed to go back.”

“What did I do?” she shouted.

“You told me you killed her. But you didn’t remember why.”

Calla’s vision blurred.

She remembered standing over Mara’s body. A knife in her hand. The fire is spreading.

But Mara had smiled as she died.

“Why was she smiling?” Calla asked.

Elias said nothing.

Then he whispered: “Because she wasn’t real.”

Part VI: The Other Girl

Calla opened a box Elias kept hidden in the cabin.

Inside: Newspaper clippings. Photos of a girl who looked exactly like her — but with darker eyes and a different name.

Mara Elen Roth.

Missing. Presumed dead. Suspected arson.

Calla was in the background of one of the photos, barely visible.

But the dates didn’t line up. Mara went missing two years before Calla said she met Elias.

Then she found the journal.

Mara’s journal.

It ended with:

“If I disappear, it’s because she wants to become me. I can feel her in my head now. She looks like me. But she’s not.”

Part VII: Spiral of Fire

Calla couldn’t trust Elias.

Couldn’t trust herself.

She returned to the clearing again. Alone.

The house appeared again. Only this time, someone was waiting in the attic room.

She climbed the stairs.

Mara was sitting in a chair, staring into the mirror.

“You think I’m dead,” Mara said. “But I’m not. I just live where you can’t see me anymore.”

Calla trembled. “You’re not real.”

Mara stood. “Neither are you.”

And the mirror cracked.

Part VIII: The Basement

Calla descended into the basement of the ghost-house.

The spiral on the floor was glowing now, pulsing like a heartbeat.

And in the center: a second version of herself, crouched, smiling.

“You burned the truth,” the other Calla said. “But fire doesn’t erase memory. Just melts it down.”

Calla screamed.

Then the other leaned forward. “Do you want the real truth? Elias isn’t your lover. He’s your brother.”

Part IX: The Forgotten Pact

Elias found her in the basement, unconscious.

He carried her back and sat beside her while she trembled in sleep.

When she woke, she stared at him. “Is it true?”

He nodded, hollow-eyed.

“You and Mara were twins. You were… sick. You believed she was stealing your life. So you became her. You set the fire.”

Calla sobbed. “But I forgot…”

“I helped you forget,” Elias whispered. “Because I couldn’t lose you, too.”

She looked at him. “So what am I now?”

He kissed her forehead. “The lie I chose to keep alive.”

Part X: The Last Spiral

They returned to the clearing one last time.

This time, the house didn’t vanish.

Calla stepped inside, alone. Climbed to the attic where Mara stood, waiting — not angry, just… tired.

“You wanted to become me,” Mara said. “But you never asked why I was trying to disappear.”

Calla reached for her hand.

“I remember now.”

The two of them stood before the mirror, both reflections present.

Calla raised the match.

“If one of us must vanish…”

She dropped it.

Epilogue:

The fire spread again.

But this time, no one died.

Calla was found walking barefoot from the woods at sunrise. No blood. No name. Just a whisper:

“Don’t let her come back this time.