The whispering house

The whispering House (Part 1)

Alyssa sat in the back seat of the car, staring out at the dense, towering trees surrounding the narrow road. Her younger brother, Ethan, played a game on his phone, oblivious to the eerie silence of the forest. Their parents sat in the front, their murmured conversation blending with the steady hum of the engine.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth. The road ahead twisted and turned, swallowed by the encroaching woods. Alyssa had heard rumors about this forest—a place where travelers often spoke of strange whispers, flickering shadows, and a house hidden deep within. A house that no one dared enter.

And then, as if fate itself had intervened, a sudden *thump* jolted the car.

"What's wrong?" Ethan asked, looking up from his screen.

"Flat tire," their father muttered, pulling the vehicle to a stop.

Alyssa’s stomach churned as she glanced outside. There was no sign of civilization—no gas stations, no houses, and worst of all, no signal on their phones. Just endless trees and a creeping fog that slithered between the trunks like ghostly fingers.

And then the rain started.

Not a drizzle. A torrential downpour that pounded against the windshield, turning the world outside into a blur of gray and green.

"We need shelter," their mother said, her voice tense.

And that’s when Alyssa saw it.

Through the rain-streaked glass, she spotted a structure looming in the distance—a house, standing alone amidst the trees. Its silhouette was crooked, as if time itself had tried to crush it but failed. The entire house was cloaked in darkness, except for a single window on the top floor. A dim, flickering light glowed from within.

Her heart pounded.

"We can’t just stay in the car," her father decided. "Let’s check it out."

Reluctantly, they stepped into the storm, their clothes quickly soaking through. The wind howled through the trees, whispering like unseen voices warning them to turn back.

As they approached, Alyssa felt an unnatural chill settle over her. The house was enormous, its wooden walls cracked and rotting. Vines clung to its surface like skeletal fingers, and the porch groaned under their weight as they stepped onto it.

Spiderwebs draped the doorway like curtains, and the old, rusted handle felt ice-cold beneath Alyssa’s touch.

With a hesitant push, the door creaked open.

Inside, the air was thick with dust and decay. The walls were lined with old, peeling wallpaper, and the furniture was draped in tattered sheets. The silence was deafening—no ticking clock, no scurrying rats, nothing.

And yet, the feeling of being "watched" was overwhelming.

Then, without a word, their eyes turned upward. Toward the staircase. Toward the only room in the house that wasn’t swallowed by darkness.

The flickering light beckoned them forward.

And against every instinct screaming at her to run, Alyssa stepped inside.

To be continued......