**Characters:**

* **Liam:** A skeptical young man, always seeking a thrill.

* **Chloe:** Liam's cautious and pragmatic girlfriend.

* **Old Man Hemlock:** The local, weathered storyteller.

The wind, a mournful banshee, howled through the skeletal branches of the ancient oaks that ringed Blackwood Manor. The house itself, a hulking shadow against the bruised twilight sky, sat in a desolate hollow, miles from the nearest flicker of civilization. Locals whispered of it, their voices hushed and laced with a chilling fear. They spoke of a presence, a wraith of bone-chilling malice, who haunted the dust-choked halls.

"It's just an old house, Liam," Chloe said, her voice a thin thread against the wind's roar. She pulled her jacket tighter, her eyes scanning the gloom around them. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

Liam grinned, his teeth a flash of white in the fading light. "That's what makes it fun, isn't it? The legend of the Eyeless Bride."

Old Man Hemlock, who had reluctantly driven them to the edge of the woods, had spun the tale for them with a tremor in his voice. He'd described her in vivid, terrifying detail: a specter in a flowing gray dress, her hair a cascade of fiery red, and eyes that burned with an unnatural, malevolent crimson glow. He'd warned them, his gnarled finger pointing towards the manor, that she was searching. Searching for what she had lost in life - her eyes. And in death, she sought to replace them with the eyes of the living.

He'd painted a chilling picture of her victims, lured into her domain, their screams swallowed by the silence of the wilderness. He'd said she wouldn't just take them inside the house; she would follow you, a shadow clinging to your heels, until she claimed her gruesome prize. And the most disturbing detail of all - people had seen her, a gaunt figure pressed against the grimy windows, her glowing red eyes fixed on them, a sickening smile stretching across her face as she hummed a low, discordant tune before the darkness descended.

Ignoring Chloe's pleas, Liam pushed open the creaking, iron gate. The air inside the grounds felt heavy, thick with the scent of decay and something else, something?unpleasant. As they approached the manor, the wind died down, replaced by an unnerving stillness.

The front door hung ajar, a gaping maw inviting them into the darkness. Dust motes danced in the slivers of moonlight that pierced the grimy windows. The silence inside was profound, broken only by the frantic thumping of Chloe's heart.

"See? Nothing," Liam said, his voice echoing in the vast emptiness. He pulled out his phone, its flashlight beam cutting through the gloom.

They explored the decaying rooms, each one a testament to a life long gone. Cobwebs draped like macabre decorations, and furniture lay shrouded in dust sheets, resembling ghostly figures themselves. Chloe was jumpy, flinching at every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of the wind outside. Liam, however, seemed to revel in the atmosphere, his skepticism a shield against the rising unease.

As they reached the grand staircase, a faint sound drifted down from the upper floors. It was a low, melodic hum, almost like a lullaby, but with an unsettling, off-key quality.

"What was that?" Chloe whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

Liam paused, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "Just the wind, probably."

But the humming grew louder, clearer, and it was definitely coming from upstairs. It was a woman's voice, singing a wordless, mournful tune that sent shivers down their spines.

"Let's go, Liam," Chloe pleaded, tugging at his arm. "Please, let's just go."

But Liam, his curiosity now outweighing his bravado, was already halfway up the stairs. "Come on, don't be a scaredy-cat. Let's just see what it is."

Reluctantly, Chloe followed, her heart pounding in her chest. The humming led them to a large bedroom at the end of the hall. The door was slightly ajar, and a sliver of red light emanated from within.

Liam pushed the door open slowly. The room was bathed in an unnatural crimson glow, emanating from?nothing. The humming was louder here, a chilling, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in their very bones.

And then they saw her.

Standing in the center of the room, facing away from them, was a figure in a flowing gray dress. Her hair was a fiery waterfall cascading down her back. As the humming reached its crescendo, she slowly turned.

Liam gasped, and Chloe let out a strangled cry.

Her face was a pale, gaunt mask. And where her eyes should have been, there were only empty, sunken sockets. But within those sockets, two points of searing, infernal red light burned with an intensity that was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

A slow, horrifying smile spread across her face, revealing rows of sharp, uneven teeth. And from her lips, the wordless humming continued, a chilling serenade of doom.

She raised a hand, long, skeletal fingers reaching out towards them. And as she did, they both heard it - a soft, slithering sound, like something wet being dragged across a rough surface. It was the sound of something *moving* in the empty sockets of her eyes.

"Welcome," the Eyeless Bride whispered, her voice a dry, raspy rustle. "So glad you could visit. I've been so?lonely."

Panic seized them. They turned and fled, their footsteps echoing like gunshots on the decaying floorboards. They stumbled down the stairs, the chilling humming pursuing them, growing louder, faster, a frantic, hungry sound.

They burst out of the front door and ran, their lungs burning, the cold night air a welcome shock. They didn't dare look back. They ran until their legs ached and their breath hitched in their throats, until they reached the edge of the woods where Old Man Hemlock's truck was parked.

They scrambled into the truck, slamming the doors shut. Old Man Hemlock, his face etched with fear, didn't ask questions. He just started the engine and sped away, the tires spitting gravel as they left the accursed grounds behind.

They drove in silence for a long time, the events of the night replaying in their minds. As they finally reached the highway and the distant lights of their town came into view, a wave of relief washed over them. They were safe. They had escaped.

But then, as they passed a deserted stretch of road, Liam glanced in the rearview mirror.

Reflected in the glass, a pale, gaunt face stared back at him. Red eyes, burning like embers, were fixed on him. And on that face, a smile. A sickening, triumphant smile.

And he could hear it again, faint but clear, a chilling, wordless hum.

The Eyeless Bride. She hadn't stayed at Blackwood Manor. She had followed them.

Liam felt a cold dread wash over him. He looked at Chloe, her face pale and drawn, her eyes wide with lingering fear. He knew, with a sickening certainty, that she had seen it too.

The ballad of Blackwood Manor was far from over. The Eyeless Bride had found new victims, and she was coming home with them. And in the darkness, as the miles melted away, the chilling hum of her song followed, promising a gruesome end, a chilling reminder that some doors, once opened, can never be truly closed. And some eyes, once lost, are always looking for a replacement.