The Scream of the Dark A crumbling

empty house stood in the middle of a barren, unexplored forest, next to a dormant village. It had shattered windows, the door creaked in the wind on rusty hinges, and crawling ivy covered the walls. The villagers spoke horribly of the house, which remained empty for centuries. Despite the fact that no one entered, they warned him that the place was haunted. Some claimed to have witnessed something moving through the shattered windows and heard a noise at night. No one approached it—until the night in question.

Rahul, a young man who had recently arrived in the village, was different from the others. He was adventurous, curious, and did not believe in ghost stories. He laughed out loud when he heard the stories about the house. He told his friends, "Ghosts aren't real." It is simply an old house. I’ll prove it to you.” Rahul made the decision to spend the night there despite their warnings. As the sun began to set, he set out with a camera, a flashlight, and an adventurous spirit. Rahul moved toward the house as the woods got darker. The trees crept up to him, the limbs curling up in the shape of skeletal fingers. The floor fell into an unholy silence as the temperature dropped. When outside the house, he stood uncertain for a while looking up its towering height. The door's creaking sounded inviting. Rahul took a deep breath and went in.

The interior was exactly as he had pictured it—moldy, rotten, and strewn with the trash of a life long abandoned. The stench of mold and rot filled the air as the ground creaked beneath his feet. Rahul activated his flashlight, but the beam was weaker than usual, struggling to penetrate the thick blackness. He started moving deeper into the room, taking pictures as he went. Except for a small wood creak or the rustling of the leaves in the garden, the house was quiet. Rahul began to feel uneasy as he continued to enter the house. It was becoming cold, and he could have sworn that he was being watched. He tried to brush it aside, reminding himself that it was his imagination playing tricks on him. But then he heard a whispered, soft voice calling his name. His chest was pounding as he stopped where he was standing and froze. "Who's it from?" he bellowed, voice trembling. There was no response.

The whisper returned, this time with greater volume, and it appeared to be coming from the basement. Rahul winced, his gut urging him to leave. However, curiosity won out. His heart racing, he moved toward the open basement door. As he made his way down the creaking stairs, the whisper became more urgent and louder. The basement was dark too, and the beam of his flashlight did not really penetrate anywhere there. Beside it, an old mirror, the face appearing very clean, considering the filthy state of everything else in the house. Rahul moved towards it cautiously, as far as the reflection faded away to nothing, and just shy of that, he started feeling a dark figure standing right behind him. Rahul didn't see anybody when he turned around. Before he could react, the twisted horror mask-faced figure returned to the mirror. It had hollow eyes and a sadistic grin with its mouth wide open. Rahul stepped back, but the figure stretched out of the mirror, its cold, bony fingers wrapped around his wrist. He attempted to scream, but there was nothing. With a firm grip, the figure dragged him toward it. Panic-stricken, the Rahul struggled to free himself, but to no avail. He was dragged into the water-like surface of the mirror by the figure. The last he noticed was his own terror-stricken face before the blackness engulfed him utterly.

The villagers spotted Rahul's flashlight and camera on the ground near the house the next morning. The camera memory card was distorted, and the last picture was a dark blur. Rahul never made an appearance or was contacted again. The house remained unchanged, with its secrets concealed behind decaying walls. The villagers continue to avoid the house to this day, especially at night. They sense whispers in the breeze, others a glow of light in the windows. But no one is brave enough to step outside and investigate. The house stands as a dark testament to the horrors that lie in the shadows—and the price of curiosity.

Final thoughts Although this is not the case, it serves as a reminder that some things should not be said. Darkness holds secrets and not all of them need to be said. Therefore, if you receive a call in the dark the following time, be cautious before answering. Darkness can also call, and sometimes it's too much for you to handle.