The Whispering House

On the edge of a small, forgotten town stood an abandoned house no one dared to enter. The locals said it whispered at night. Some claimed they heard voices calling their names, others swore they saw shadows moving inside even when the windows were boarded shut.

One autumn evening, three friends—Amir, Faizan, and Sara—decided to test the legend. They dared each other to spend just one hour inside. Armed with flashlights, they pushed open the creaking door.

At first, it was silent—dust, cobwebs, and broken furniture. But then, faintly, they heard it: a whisper. It wasn’t the wind. It was words.

“Get… out…”

Sara froze. “Did you hear that?”

The whisper grew louder, echoing in all directions. Their flashlights flickered. Shadows shifted on the walls, but none of them were moving. Amir tried to laugh it off, but when he turned to the door, it had shut by itself.

The whispers turned into screams. A figure appeared at the end of the hallway—pale, faceless, and pointing at them.

The friends bolted for the door, but the floorboards beneath them groaned and cracked. Just before the boards gave way, Sara yanked it open, and they all stumbled out into the cold night air.

Behind them, the house fell silent again.

The next day, the townspeople found the door nailed shut—as if it had never been opened.

No one ever saw Amir, Faizan, or Sara again.