Whisper in the dark

The night was thick with a silence that felt almost suffocating. It wasn’t the kind of peace that brought comfort, but the kind that made every crack in the floorboard and every gust of wind feel like an omen. Lily sat on the edge of her bed, the only light in the room coming from the soft glow of a candle flickering beside her. The house had always been old, creaking and groaning as though it held memories of forgotten lives. But tonight, it felt different. There was something... off about it.

She had heard the whisper earlier, just before she had gone to bed. It wasn’t a sound she could quite place—more like a rustling of words too faint to make out. She’d assumed it was just the wind or the house settling, but the noise had come again, this time closer, as if someone had been standing right behind her. She hadn’t turned around. There was no one there. At least, not that she could see.

But the whisper, the soft, elusive murmur, had stayed with her.

Her breath hitched as she heard it once more, but this time, it was clearer. The words weren’t in a language she understood, but the tone, low and slow, was unmistakable. It wasn’t the wind. It wasn’t the house.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she slowly turned her head, staring into the darkened corners of her room. Her heart raced in her chest as she tried to focus on the shadows. Nothing moved. No footsteps. No sign of anything out of the ordinary.

She tried to convince herself it was just her imagination playing tricks on her. It had been a long, stressful week—work had been chaotic, and her sleep had been restless. Maybe it was exhaustion that made her hear things. But the whisper came again, louder this time, like a voice calling her name.

“Lily…”

The voice was unmistakable now. It was soft, almost familiar, and it carried an unsettling weight, as if it knew something she didn’t. She stood up from the bed, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet. Her hand trembled as she reached for the light switch on the wall, but she couldn’t bring herself to flip it. Something inside her, something primal, told her not to turn on the light.

With each step she took toward the corner of the room, the whisper seemed to get louder, but still no source was visible. She was standing directly under the dim candlelight now, her shadow stretching across the floor. Her pulse quickened. The air felt thick, like something heavy was pressing against her chest.

“Lily…”

This time, the voice sounded different, urgent, almost pleading. It echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls, but it wasn’t coming from any one place. It surrounded her.

Her breath was shallow now, panic starting to rise in her throat. She felt a cold chill settle in the room, and despite the warmth of the candle, she shivered.

“Who’s there?” she called out, her voice trembling more than she cared to admit.

There was silence for a moment. A long, aching pause where only the sound of her own heartbeat filled the air. Then the whisper returned, but this time, it wasn’t the voice of a person. It wasn’t even a whisper anymore.

It was a rustling sound, a faint scratching at the door.

Her blood ran cold.

Lily’s mind raced as she took slow, deliberate steps towards the door. She could feel her legs trembling beneath her, her throat tight with fear. The closer she got, the louder the scratching became, as if something was desperately trying to get in. Her hand hovered over the doorknob, but she hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to open the door to whatever was on the other side, but she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and swung the door open, her heart pounding in her ears.

Nothing.

The hallway outside was empty, bathed in moonlight that streamed in through the tall, narrow windows. The air was still, untouched. There was no one there. No whisper. No scratching.

Lily blinked, her pulse slowly returning to normal as she peered down the dark corridor. The shadows seemed to mock her, stretching and shifting unnaturally. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her again. The tension in the house had not lifted—it had only grown more pronounced.

And then, from the corner of the hallway, a figure emerged.

It was a fleeting image, a shadow shifting just beyond the reach of the light, but Lily could swear she saw it—a pale, gaunt figure with hollow eyes staring back at her. The figure moved closer, its feet making no sound on the floor.

The whisper returned, this time louder, clearer, unmistakable.

“Help me…”

The voice was not human, but something far older, far darker.

Lily’s breath hitched as the figure reached out for her, its fingers long and twisted. The warmth of the candlelight flickered in her peripheral vision, the light dimming as the figure grew closer.

She slammed the door shut with all the strength she had, the sound echoing through the quiet house. She backed away from the door, her mind spinning, her heart racing.

She wasn’t alone.

And whatever it was that whispered in the dark wasn’t just trying to reach her—it was trying to take her.

Lily turned toward her bed, a frantic urgency filling her. She needed to get out, needed to escape before whatever haunted this house could claim her too.

But as she turned, her eyes met the reflection in the mirror on the wall.

Behind her, standing just inches away, was the figure.

Its hollow eyes stared back at her. And it whispered, one last time, in her ear.

“Now… you’re mine.”

The darkness swallowed her scream.