Whispers In The Dark

One day, Mari moved into her new home—an old Victorian-style house on the outskirts of
town, surrounded by overgrown trees and a rusty, creaking gate. Mari was drawn to the house's charm
due to its intricate designs and glass-stained windows. The house was left with remnants of its past
such as furnitures, mirrors, paintings, and more.

It was already night time and she had just finished setting the last of her furnitures for her
bedroom. Then suddenly, she felt a strange chill spiraling down to her core, even though it was still in
the middle of the summer. She shrugged it off as she assumed that maybe it was due to the house
showing its age. Feeling restless, she decided to explore a bit more before having her dinner.

Mari walked down by the halls of her new home, her footsteps echoing faintly in every step.
She stopped at some paintings that were plastered on the wall as she examined them with mild
curiousity and interest. She continued to walk down the hall until she heard a faint creak from the
floor, and then added by a faint whimper.

She froze, her breath hitching as she looked back at the hall, scanning her surroundings, but
she found none. The faint creak might probably be the house settling, but the soft whimper that
followed was hard not to notice. It sounded distant yet distinct, like it came from deep within the
house. She could feel that someone might be watching her.

The shadows seemed to stretch and shift around her, for a moment, she thought she saw
movement out of the corner of her eye. But when she looked, there was nothing there.

"Hello?" she called hesitantly, her voice echoing off the walls. The house answered with
silence. As she moved towards the sound, the sudden chill that she felt earlier deepened, and the faint
whimper repeated a little more loudly than it was before, it came from a door from the right corner of
the hallway, it was a door that she hadn't notice before when she first came here for a house tour.

She walked a little closer until she stopped infront of the door. She breathed a few seconds
before placing her trembling and sweaty hand on the doorknob. It felt oddly cold under her touch.
Slowly, she twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, revealing a small, dusty room. The room
was accompanied with a broken glass mirror and a wooden chair, its back turned towards her. And
then she heard it again—the faint but now loud whimper from earlier, but this time it came from the
chair.

Mari's heart raced as she stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the back of the chair. She
could feel her pulse thudding in her ears, and every instinct screamed for her to turn and run, but
something held her in place. The air in the room felt thick, and the shadows seemed to coil around the
edges of the room.

Her breath trembled, Mari forced herself to enter the room, the door creaking as it swung
open infront of her. She took a few steps inside, looking at her surroundings. She looked at the broken
glass mirror. The mirror's broken pieces seemed to shimmer in the dim light, its edges reflecting the
distorted fragments of the room. Mari's gaze lingered on the broken glass, as she stared at her own
distorted reflection for a brief moment, she thought she saw movement within it—a flicker of
something, or someone, standing behind her. She turned around, her breath hitching, but the room was
empty save for the wooden chair.

The whimper came again, more louder now, almost desperate. It echoed off the cracked walls
and it seemed to come from all directions, yet her attention was pulled back to the chair. Her eyes
fixated on it as she moved closer, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As she neared the chair, the tension in the room seemed to grow thicker, an invisible weight
pressing against her chest. She stopped a foot away, her breath shallow and ragged, and reached out
cautiously. Her fingers grazed the chair’s weathered surface, the wood cold and smooth under her
touch.

The whimper stopped.

The silence was so sudden. She looked back at her reflection in the mirror, yet all she sees is
none. Mari’s heart nearly stopped. The mirror, fractured and grimy, reflected the room—its dim light,
the dusty walls, the old chair, but not her.

Suddenly, a faint voice was heard. "Leave. Run. Don't look back." She whipped her head
around, searching for its source, but the room remained still.

"Who’s there?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Too late."

The door immediately slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing like a thunderclap. Before
she could process what was happening, a humanoid figure fell from the ceiling. The body laid on the
floor, it was wrapped in long white but dusty clothing. Its limbs were unnaturally long, bending in
ways that defied logic. Its face was obscured by a veil of shadows, but faint, glowing eyes pierced
through the darkness, locking onto Mari with an intensity that made her knees weak. The figure stood
up slowly in an unnatural motion as it rose up to its height. Its body was thin, the fabric of its white,
dusty clothes clinging to its frame like a shroud.

Mari stumbled back, her legs trembling beneath her. Her breath was shallow and panicked,
and her heartbeat echoed in her ears. She felt a suffocating pressure in the room, as if the very air was
being sucked out, leaving her gasping for breath.
 The figure took a step toward her.

Mari instinctively pressed her back against the cold, cracked wall, her eyes darting around the
room, desperately searching for any escape. There was none.

“It's too late, you cannot stay.” The figure spoke in a hoarse whisper. She could barely
breathe, let alone think.

With a sudden, unnerving hiss, the figure moved forward, its limbs extending impossibly
long. Its hand shot out, grabbing her by the arm with a grip that was both cold and burning, its fingers
digging into her skin with an unnatural strength.

Mari cried out, trying to free herself, but the figure pulled her closer, its face still hidden in
shadow. It whispered. "There's No Turning Back Now."

Mari’s pulse thundered in her ears as her vision blurred. She could feel the shadows, thick and
suffocating, closing in from all sides. “Let go…” she begged, her voice barely a whisper, her breath
shallow and panicked.

Suddenly, with a violent jerk, the figure released her. Mari stumbled back, her legs threatening
to give way beneath her. She ran for the door, her hand shaking as she grabbed the doorknob. The
door creaked in protest but finally swung open, revealing the dark hallway beyond.

Without a second thought, Mari bolted through the doorway, her breath ragged and panicked,
not daring to look back. The shadows followed her, their cold whispers growing louder as she ran
down the hall, towards what she hoped would be an escape. But no matter how fast she ran, it felt as
though the house itself was closing in around her, the weight of its dark presence pushing against her
from all sides.

She reached the stairs and began to climb, desperate to get away, but just as she reached the
top, a cold hand grabbed her ankle, dragging her backward. She screamed, her heart pounding in her
chest, as the shadows closed in, pulling her toward the dark heart of the house.

The darkness shut her down completely, and as the last light faded from her vision, the house
fell silent once more. Its newest occupant is now forever a part of its cursed existence. The echoes of
her screams, however, lingered in the air, a warning to anyone who might one day dare to cross the
threshold.

The house waited patiently for its next victim.

END