Whispers in the Dark



The night was colder than usual, with an unsettling stillness hanging in the air as Evelyn walked through the dense woods. The distant croak of frogs and the rustling of leaves were the only sounds, their echoes amplifying the isolation she felt. She clutched the flashlight tightly, its dim beam barely slicing through the thick fog that seemed to cling to her ankles.

Evelyn had grown up near these woods, always hearing stories of the abandoned house deep within. Some said it had belonged to a witch, others claimed it was a place where people disappeared, never to be seen again. She had always dismissed the tales as superstitions, crafted to scare children. But curiosity was a stubborn itch, and tonight, she had finally decided to venture in and see for herself.

The twisted trees loomed over her like silent guardians of a dark secret. Shadows danced in the periphery of her vision, taking shape only to dissolve as soon as she turned. She could feel eyes watching her, the forest itself holding its breath. It was too late to turn back now, and each step pulled her closer to the house that had haunted her dreams.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally saw it. The house was even more derelict than she’d imagined. Cracked windows stared at her like vacant eyes, and the wooden walls were rotting, almost as if they were slowly being consumed by the forest. Vines crawled up the sides, clinging to the decaying structure, as if trying to pull it back into the earth.

Evelyn approached the front door, its faded paint peeling away in strips. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the rusty doorknob, a chill prickling the back of her neck. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open, and it creaked in protest, the sound echoing into the empty darkness within.

The air inside was thick and heavy, laced with the scent of mildew and decay. Dust particles floated in the beam of her flashlight, swirling in patterns as if stirred by an invisible hand. She moved cautiously, her footsteps muffled by the thick layer of grime on the floor.

In the hallway, faded portraits lined the walls, their subjects staring down with expressions that seemed almost alive in the dim light. One portrait, in particular, caught her eye—a woman with hollow, sunken eyes, her face a mask of sorrow and anger. Evelyn felt a shiver run down her spine as she continued to stare. For a brief moment, she thought she saw the woman's mouth twitch into a smirk, but she dismissed it as a trick of the shadows.

The deeper she went, the more the air seemed to close in around her. The walls felt narrower, the silence oppressive. Her flashlight flickered, and she tapped it, the small disturbance echoing far too loudly. Then she heard it—a faint whisper, barely audible but distinct enough to make her blood run cold.

"Evelyn…"

Her name floated through the darkness, spoken by a voice that was both familiar and strange. She froze, her pulse hammering in her ears. She scanned the room, her light falling on empty furniture and broken fixtures. There was no one there, yet the voice lingered in her mind, wrapping around her thoughts like a vine.

"Evelyn… come closer," it whispered again, softer, almost coaxing.

Her feet moved of their own accord, leading her toward a staircase that wound up to the second floor. Each step groaned under her weight, as if the house itself resented her presence. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, each word dripping with malice and curiosity.

She reached the top of the stairs and found herself in a narrow corridor lined with closed doors. The whisper seemed to be coming from the last door on the right, a door that was slightly ajar. Evelyn approached it cautiously, her heart thudding so loudly she was sure it would give her away.

As she pushed the door open, her flashlight revealed a small room, sparsely furnished, with a single wooden chair facing the corner. On the walls were scratch marks, as if someone had clawed at the wood in desperation. The whispers had stopped, replaced by a heavy silence that pressed down on her.

Then, a faint creak.

Evelyn turned, her flashlight flickering again, and in the brief moments of light and darkness, she saw them—figures standing in the shadows, their faces obscured but their eyes glinting with a hunger that sent a wave of terror through her. She stumbled back, nearly dropping her flashlight.

The figures moved closer, their steps soundless. They had an unnatural stillness to them, as if they were not fully part of this world. Her back hit the wall, and she could feel their cold, empty gazes boring into her.

"Evelyn… stay with us," the voice came again, but this time, it was many voices layered together, creating a cacophony of whispers that filled the room.

She shook her head, her voice coming out in a terrified whisper. "No… I don’t want to…"

But the figures were relentless, their shapes becoming clearer as they closed in. She could see faces now—familiar faces. Faces of people from her town who had vanished over the years, people she’d known, people who had become nothing more than ghost stories.

They reached out, their fingers cold as they brushed against her skin, and she felt a pull, a weight sinking into her very soul. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. Her vision blurred, her body feeling heavier with each second as if something were draining her, pulling her into their world.

Suddenly, her flashlight flickered back to life, the beam illuminating the room fully. The figures vanished, replaced by empty air, but the feeling of their presence lingered, oppressive and suffocating. She stumbled out of the room, down the stairs, her legs barely able to carry her.

As she burst through the front door and into the night, she didn’t dare look back. She ran, her breath coming in short gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. The whispers followed her, fading with each step until she was back at the edge of the woods.

Evelyn never returned to that house, but the memory of that night haunted her. Every now and then, in the dead of night, she would hear the whispers again, calling her name, inviting her back. And she knew that one day, she might not be able to resist.