The Call of Darkness

With a deep breath, Ravi turned the knob, and the door opened with a soft groan. The moment he stepped inside, the temperature dropped noticeably. It felt like stepping into another world—one that was cold, forgotten, and untouched by time. The darkness inside the house seemed to swallow him whole, leaving him with only the dim light of his lantern to guide his way.

Part 4: The Sound in the Dark:

The moment Ravi stepped into the house, the door shut behind him with a soft, almost silent thud, as if sealing him inside. The air felt thick, heavy, and musty, filled with the scent of decay and neglect. It was as though the house had been abandoned for centuries, its walls holding memories that had been long forgotten by the world. Every surface in the entryway was coated with a thick layer of dust, and the silence was deafening.

Ravi took a cautious step forward, his lantern casting long, flickering shadows on the walls. His footsteps echoed in the silence, each one sounding louder than the last. The house was vast, its high ceilings disappearing into darkness, its corners shrouded in mystery. The faint light from his lantern barely illuminated the room, and the shadows seemed to move and twist, as though they were alive.

The furniture in the room was covered in dusty sheets, their forms hidden beneath the fabric. There was an old chair by the fireplace, its legs twisted and broken, and a large, cracked mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. The wallpaper was peeling, the once-beautiful floral patterns now faded and torn. It was a place frozen in time, untouched and forgotten by the outside world.

Ravi moved deeper into the room, his eyes scanning every corner, every shadow. He could feel the presence of something, something that watched him from the darkness. It was as if the house itself was alive, aware of his presence, waiting for him to uncover its secrets. His heart raced as he walked further, his breath quickening with each step. He knew that whatever lay ahead, it would not be easy to face.

Suddenly, a faint sound broke the silence—so faint that Ravi almost missed it. It was a whisper, so soft that it could have been the wind or the creaking of the house. But then it came again, clearer this time.

“Ravi…”

The voice was soft, almost tender, and yet it carried with it a sense of urgency. Ravi froze, his breath caught in his throat. The voice—his name—seemed to echo in the dark, filling the room with an eerie energy. He looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, but the room was empty. There was no one there.

“Ravi…”

The voice came again, this time closer. It was as if the very walls of the house were speaking to him, calling him deeper into the darkness. Ravi’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. He could feel his curiosity pulling him forward, urging him to follow the voice, to discover who—or what—was calling his name.

The house groaned as if in response to his movement, its creaking floors and shifting walls sending waves of unease through Ravi’s body. But he couldn’t stop. He had come this far, and the mystery was too great to ignore. He stepped forward, the voice guiding him as he moved deeper into the house, following the whispers that seemed to come from every direction.

The temperature dropped further as Ravi made his way down the hall, his lantern flickering wildly. The shadows seemed to close in around him, the air thick with an ancient energy. And then, ahead of him, he saw it: a door at the end of the hall, its surface worn and weathered. It looked like any other door in the house, but there was something different about it, something that drew him in.

The whispers were louder now, almost deafening. “Ravi…”

Ravi reached for the door handle, his fingers trembling as he touched it. The air around him seemed to hum with anticipation. With a deep breath, he turned the knob, pushing the door open slowly.