Whispering in the attic

The old house in Blackwood Lane remained for decades. His wooden frame fell under negligence for years, and Ivy raw over a cracked brick wall. The town residents spoke of the steaming whisper house and called it cursed. But for Ethan, it was a great place to explore.

Ethan was always taken to the supernatural. As a self-proclaimed ghost hunter, he has been researching local legends for many years, exposing myths and seeking future evidence. When he heard about the Blackwood house, he knew he had to see it himself.

On a cold October night, he arrived home with only one flashlight, a camera, and a digital recorder. The sky was cloudy gray, and the wind sprinted through the trees. As he stepped into the veranda, the wooden board slid under his weight. He took a deep breath and opened the front door.

The air inside

was thick and had a smell of dust and rot. Spider weaves and broken furniture stretching above the ceiling are scattered across the floor. Ethan clicked on the recorder.

"October 13th. Entry to Blackwood House. Locals claim it is a ghost. Let's look into it. “

He hiked around the house, took photos, and spoke on the recorder, and the silence was deafening, except for the occasional moans of the house. Whisper.

Like the breath against his ears, it was weak and barely perceptible. Ethan Frozen, Heart Hammer. He played the recording, but there was nothing. static.

shaking his nerves, he raised the stairs. The second floor was dark and the air was heavy. He moved carefully and peered into the empty room. Most were filled with dusty furniture and peeled wallpaper, but I noticed a door at the edge of the hallway. In contrast to others, it was tightly closed.

He turned the button. The door groaned, revealing the narrow stairs leading to the attic. The cold design penetrated the stairs and sent a shower through him. He hesitated and then climbed.

Aside from the narrow jets of his flashlight, the attic was pure white. The walls were lined up with boxes and old tribes. The air smelled like mold and something else - some fist.

Then he saw it.

In the center of the attic, there was a rocking chair that fluctuated gently back and forth. Ethan swallowed hard. "Is anyone here?" he barely called out his voice in the whisper.

Silence.

He approached, and the flashlight flickered. A huge blow echoed behind him. He turned around, but nothing was there.

Knite his recorder.

Ethans suck on his neck. He wasn't pushing the game. The device played itself.

A static, soft, dark whispering voice appeared.

「Get Out」.

His blood turned to ice. Suddenly, the attic door hit me. The flashlight flickered again and then died completely. Panic climbed over Ethan as he ate in the darkness. Then he felt it. Cold fingers brushed his neck. He stumbled, his breath being crushed and short of breath. The whispers grew, surrounded him, choking him. It wasn't just a voice. That was a lot. "Vacation".

"He's coming."

"Run". Ethan's instinct cried out. He plunged towards the roof floor door and pulled the handle, which couldn't stir. Behind him, the rocking chair squealed violently. The whispers turned into a high-pitched laugh. Then there was silence. Ethan turned around, his heart smacking.

The

the figure was in the darkness.

High. It's constant. Be careful. The air was cold. He couldn't see his face, his shining eyes - two pinpricks of white, bored with his soul. Then I moved.

Ethan let out a desirable scream as he hit the door. The problem got closer, and her movements moved slowly and intentionally. "Please!" He cried. "Let me go!"

The laughter came back and echoed around it.

The

the figure arrived for him.

The door flew suddenly and raided Ethan across the attic. He hit the floor hard and snapped in the air. The whispers stopped.

trembles, and he rose to his feet and left the house. He didn't stop driving until he got to the car. His hands trembled as he messed with his keys and raced his heart.

When he entered, he closed the door and turned the ignition. The headlights illuminated the house, covering a long shadow over the grass.

And then we looked at it in the attic window.

Ethan never returned to Blackwood House. He never talked about that night. But sometimes, he could still hear the whispers when he played the recording.

"I have warned you."