The Light in the Attic

A house with a mysterious attic was never part of Emily’s plans.

Emily had always dreamed of moving into a quiet suburban home. When she found an old Victorian house on the outskirts of town, she felt like she had discovered the perfect place. The house was big and beautiful, with creaky floorboards, tall windows, and intricate woodwork. But there was something about the attic that unsettled her.

The attic door was tucked away behind an old, heavy curtain. It had no windows, and it was locked tight when Emily first moved in. Curious but hesitant, she decided to leave it alone, thinking it was probably just filled with old junk. The house, however, had a strange energy about it. At night, when she was lying in bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching her.

The strange light that appeared in the attic at night became an obsession.

One night, as Emily lay awake in bed, she saw it—the light. It was faint at first, a small glimmer of something flickering from the attic window. It was unlike any light she had ever seen; it didn’t seem to be from a lamp or a flashlight. It was cold, pale, and unearthly, casting eerie shadows across the yard outside.

The light appeared every night at precisely midnight, and each time it was brighter, almost as if something—or someone—was slowly turning it on. At first, Emily told herself it was nothing more than the reflection of a streetlamp or some trick of the mind, but she couldn’t ignore it for long. The light intrigued her, and soon, it became an obsession.

Emily's curiosity led her into the attic, where something waited.

Driven by her growing curiosity, Emily finally decided to explore the attic. One evening, when the light appeared again, she grabbed the key to the attic door that she had found in the back of a closet. Her hands trembled as she unlocked the door, the rusty hinges creaking loudly as she pushed it open.

The attic was dark, dusty, and smelled of old wood. The light, however, was not coming from any source she could see. It seemed to emanate from the walls themselves, casting an unnatural glow that made the shadows around her stretch and sway. The room was empty, except for a large wooden chest in the far corner.

As she stepped closer to the chest, the light grew brighter, and the air turned cold. A chill ran down her spine as the whispers started—low, unintelligible murmurs that seemed to rise from the very floor. She opened the chest, half-expecting to find something that could explain the strange light. What she saw instead made her blood run cold.

Inside the chest was a collection of old photographs, yellowed with age, each showing a different person standing in front of the house. The people in the photos had hollow eyes, and their smiles seemed too wide, too unnatural. But it wasn’t the photographs that terrified Emily—it was the last photo, the one that looked like it had been taken just moments ago.

The photo was of her, standing in the exact spot where she was now.

The truth behind the light was far darker than she could have imagined.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind her, and the room was plunged into darkness. The light flickered back to life, and Emily felt a cold hand brush against her shoulder. Her heart raced as she turned around to face the figure that had appeared behind her.

It was a woman, her face pale and gaunt, her eyes hollow and dark. The woman’s smile stretched unnaturally wide as she whispered, “You shouldn’t have opened the chest.”

The light grew blinding, and Emily tried to back away, but her feet were rooted to the floor. The whispers grew louder, surrounding her, drowning out all other sounds. The woman’s face contorted as if in pain, her body jerking and twitching in unnatural ways.

In a moment of pure horror, Emily realized the truth—the light in the attic wasn’t a reflection or some odd coincidence. It was the light of those trapped in the house, their souls bound to the walls, forever forced to relive their final moments.

The photo in the chest hadn’t been taken by anyone else. The woman in the attic was the previous owner, who had disappeared mysteriously many years ago. Emily was not the first person to be drawn to the house, nor would she be the last.

With a final, chilling scream, Emily’s body was pulled into the light, her figure becoming part of the house’s dark legacy. The light flickered one last time before it faded into the night, waiting for the next soul to wander into the attic and discover its horrifying truth.