The whispering house ( part 2)

The Whispering House (Part 2)

Alyssa’s breath caught in her throat as she stepped into the dimly lit room. Unlike the rest of the house, which was consumed by decay and darkness, this room was untouched—clean, warm, and eerily peaceful.

Soft lavender curtains swayed gently despite the absence of any wind. The wooden floor gleamed as if it had been polished recently, and the walls were adorned with countless paintings and drawings. Some were portraits of a young girl with long, flowing hair, while others depicted scenes of the forest, the house, and something else—a dark figure lurking in the background.

Alyssa swallowed hard.

"This looks like a child's room," her mother whispered, her fingers trailing over a dusty bookshelf.

"How is this place so… perfect?" Ethan muttered.

Alyssa’s eyes wandered to a small wooden desk near the window. Something gleamed in the dim light. She stepped forward, drawn to it, and found a ring resting delicately on the surface.

It was beautiful. An antique silver band with an intricate design, holding a deep blue sapphire that shimmered under the glow of the lamp. It felt cold as Alyssa picked it up, yet somehow comforting.

"Alyssa, we should go," her father called from the hallway.

She hesitated for only a second before slipping the ring into her pocket. 

Morning arrived with a clear sky, and the family wasted no time fixing the car. By noon, they were back on the road, leaving the eerie house far behind.

But Alyssa couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

As they drove, she noticed something strange—the ring on her finger felt warm almost as if it had a pulse of its own.

That night, the nightmares began.

She dreamt of the house, of the paintings, of the girl in them staring at her with hollow eyes. Whispers echoed in her ears, soft at first but growing louder. The words were unclear, but the desperation in them was unmistakable.

Then, she saw herself standing in the room again. But this time, she wasn’t alone.

A shadow loomed behind her. 

She woke up gasping, drenched in sweat. The ring was glowing faintly in the darkness.

Over the next few days, things only got worse. Objects in her room moved on their own. The lights flickered whenever she entered. And at night, she heard footsteps outside her door—slow, deliberate steps that stopped the moment she held her breath.

One evening, as she stared into the mirror, her reflection 'smiled' at her.

Even though she wasn’t smiling.

That was the moment she knew—something was "wrong". 

Desperate, Alyssa confided in her mother, who took her to the local church. The bishop, an elderly man with kind but wary eyes, listened to her story in silence.

When she showed him the ring, his face darkened.

"Where did you find this?" he demanded.

"In that house… the one in the forest," she whispered.

The bishop exhaled sharply. "That ring belonged to a girl who lived there long ago. She disappeared mysteriously, and after that, no one dared enter that house. It is cursed. It binds the wearer to the spirit of its owner."

Alyssa’s blood ran cold. "What do I do?"

"You must get rid of it," he said gravely. "Throw it into running water. A river, a lake—somewhere it cannot be retrieved. Only then will you be free."

Terror gripped her chest, but she knew what she had to do.

That night, she stood on the bridge overlooking the rushing river. The ring burned against her skin, as if fighting to stay with her. The wind howled, and for a brief second, she heard the whisper again—Don’t leave me.

With trembling hands, she threw the ring into the water.

The moment it vanished beneath the surface, the air around her stilled.

The whispers faded. The presence that had haunted her vanished.

For the first time in days, Alyssa felt truly alone.

And she had never been more grateful.

To be continued…...?