The Unwanted

The old Victorian mansion on the edge of town had been abandoned for decades, its windows boarded up and its paint peeling away from the walls. Rumors swirled about the strange occurrences that had taken place there, with some saying that the spirits of those who had died in the house still lingered on, haunting the halls and tormenting those who dared to enter.

Despite the warnings, a group of five friends decided to spend the night in the house as a dare. They were all seniors in high school, looking for one last thrill before graduation. They arrived at the house at midnight, each armed with flashlights and sleeping bags. They pushed aside the boarded-up door and stepped inside, their hearts pounding with excitement and fear.

The first thing they noticed was the musty smell of the place, the scent of mold and rot that seemed to cling to every surface. They shone their flashlights around, illuminating the cobwebs that hung from the ceiling and the dust that coated the furniture. Everything was covered in a layer of grime, as if no one had set foot in the house for years.

The friends began to explore the first floor, walking from room to room and trying to find a comfortable spot to settle down for the night. They passed through a grand foyer with a sweeping staircase, a formal dining room with a long table and chairs, and a parlor with a fireplace and a piano. None of the rooms seemed to offer much in the way of comfort, and the friends began to feel uneasy.

As they climbed the stairs to the second floor, they heard strange noises coming from the rooms around them. A creaking sound, like someone walking on the floorboards. A tapping sound, like someone tapping their fingernails against a hard surface. And a low, guttural moaning sound, like someone in pain.

The friends huddled together, their flashlights shaking in their hands. They tried to convince themselves that it was just their imaginations, that the noises were just the sounds of an old house settling. But deep down, they knew that something was wrong.

They reached the top of the stairs and found themselves in a long hallway lined with doors. The hallway was darker than the rest of the house, and the air felt colder. They tried the doors one by one, finding that most of them were locked or stuck. But when they tried the door at the end of the hall, it swung open easily.

The room beyond was the largest in the house, with tall ceilings and large windows that looked out onto the moonlit street below. There was a four-poster bed in the center of the room, covered in cobwebs and dust. But what caught the friends' attention was the writing on the walls.

The writing was scrawled in what looked like blood, with letters that were jagged and uneven. The message read: "GET OUT NOW. YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE."

The friends froze in terror, their eyes locked on the writing. They could feel the cold breath of the spirits on their necks, hear the whispering of their voices in their ears. They knew that they had made a terrible mistake by coming to the house.

Just as they were about to turn and run, the door slammed shut behind them, trapping them in the room. They pounded on the door, screaming for someone to let them out. But there was no answer, only the sound of their own voices echoing in the darkness.

Hours later, when the sun began to rise, the friends were found huddled together in the haunted room, their faces frozen in expressions of terror. They were rushed to the hospital, where they were treated for shock and dehydration.

No one knew exactly what had happened in the house that night, but the friends never spoke of their experience again. They went their separate ways after graduation, some leaving town and others staying behind. But they all carried with them the memory of the haunted house, and the fear that had gripped them that night.

Years passed, and the old Victorian mansion remained abandoned. The town grew up around it, new houses and buildings sprouting up like weeds. But the haunted house remained a fixture of the landscape, a reminder of the past and the secrets that it held.

One day, a group of children were playing in the fields behind the house when they heard a strange noise coming from inside. They crept closer, their hearts racing with excitement and fear. They peeked through a crack in the boarded-up window and saw a figure standing in the middle of the haunted room, staring up at the writing on the walls.

The figure turned, and the children saw that it was a young woman, with long brown hair and a haunted expression on her face. She beckoned to the children, her eyes wide with fear.

"Please," she whispered. "Help me get out of here."

The children ran to get help, and soon a group of adults arrived to investigate. They forced their way into the house and made their way up to the haunted room, where they found the young woman huddled in a corner, her eyes wild with terror.

She told them her story, of how she had been exploring the house when she had stumbled upon the haunted room. She had been drawn to the writing on the walls, and had touched it with her hand. That was when she had felt the cold breath of the spirits on her neck, and had heard the whispering of their voices in her ear.

The adults took the young woman to the hospital, where she was treated for shock and dehydration. But she never spoke of her experience again, and no one knew what had become of her.

The haunted house remained a mystery, its secrets hidden behind boarded-up windows and locked doors. But the children who had witnessed the young woman's ordeal knew that something dark and dangerous still lurked within its walls, waiting for the next unsuspecting victim to cross its threshold.